Favorite Poem

This is by far my favorite of all of the poems that I have scratched out on paper. There was a boy named Johnathan Bruda in my high school who had an enlarged heart and one day, during track practice, it burst and he was lost. I wrote this about a month after this tragic event blasted my school to its knees.

Pointless Mass

I have been the comic relief of everyone’s life but mine. 

Inside there’s a waging war with bombs but I’m fine. 

No need to worry about little old me, 

I have shackles and chains but everyone’s free. 

The pain and the hurt you cannot comprehend. 

Everything else can go on but I want to end. 

Continue on as you were before you met this strange child. 

The jungle is never calm because it is always wild. 

The city lights weren’t for me as no one can plainly see, 

But then neither is the wide-open country. 

Don’t take notice of the crumpled body in the corner. 

She’ll be alright. No need to call the coroner. 

That isn’t blood on the floor but wine. 

Just keep walking in your line. 

Ignore the loss of life and continue on with yours. 

The morgue is beneath all your floors. 

Your days will go on. You will still breathe. 

Many things will happen that you cannot conceive. 

The war will eventually finish its bout. 

The blood will eventually stop its spout. 

The open blood vessels will close on their own 

And this insignificant body will die all alone.