The echo’s walks, as the only one along with her
‘Why let go storks?’ wishes not yet her mom differs
Stiletto’s warp, her back as she tries to be noticed
Any contact, results in hearing ‘you be hopeless’
Many on that, at twelve she delves into memories
Slur endlessly, unanswered ‘do you remember me?’
Sits at playtime shoulders hunched forward, chin tucked
Six of age: find this with her bold name pin stucked
On her grey blouse, people stare with nose up, raised brows
And then giggles, teacher’s mistaken and praised crowds
When she wriggles, from them grabbing and teasing her
More than niggles, that she hadn’t heard a pleasing word
A grey picture, last to use paints that’s left murky
Each day a chore, see not her but others breast perky
Preach ‘prayers bore’ after doing it too much it does
Her hands a lost, every lunchtime she’d clutch her mug
So stuck to shrug, to continuously enticed vultures
Given the cold, shoulder and could make ice sculptures
Thinks of her dolls, they were her best and only friends
Slinky to roll, were going down like her own pretends
Cried the Thames, her and her body played in the park
Tried to tend, towards kids but now stays in the dark
Strive descend, like friends going on a slide together
Permanent print, poised for what goner’s mind endeavours

Being demised, was tried to be equalled by self harm
Leaving deprived, matters behind ‘they get to hurt me’
The hurt endured, made her skin become a diary
Help work in stored, her mum had begun inquiries
Felt worse fo' sure, they talk to her because they have to
Told councillor, that ‘hate hitches her like age grasps you’
Amazed last view, prompted all involved she’s an enigma
A gaze mask’s to, lateral lengths leaving the stigma
Within herself, rids most miserable memories
Tattoo’s hurt felt, by the invisible tendencies
That occur else, mental anguish would not neutralise
But it’s now that; thanks to carer’s the disputes arise
Twelve, allowed at secondry school and a second chance
Her mind scowls back, at stupid wishes to get romanced
But she found out, love touches everyone: even her
Who was bound nout, hates intimacy ‘s not leaving her
That’s love: round bout, for it is a special connection
To die at times, made her strongly wrestle objection
Surprised to find, a dawn of a new day, no two ways
About the sign, that rids doubt in mind of ‘old you saved’
She realised, there is beauty within the ugly
The ashes rise, thought ‘if I believe they will love me
I’ll grasp your eyes, like the very retina of mine
Sinners confined, what I think'll make winners incline’

-Pot1ent


This piece was great and touching, had great diction, and it really left the reader with something to think about. For all these reasons, it's legendary. And Pot1ent is my baby's mama.
Maven.