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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Teen · #1527243
A poem about a group of teenagers from a sheltered community.
Highlands Ranch
We are the bubble people
Encased in our own dreams
With money flowing from our pockets
Seeing life with rose tinted glasses
With roses in our ears
And in between our teeth
We are the beautiful people
Who don’t know what its like
To be dirty, torn and left behind
This is how you see us
We who hide in our glass houses
We of the high pedestal
Who have so far to fall
Our society and authority
May be blind
But we are not
For we, the bubble children
Have seen all that is exiled
With our parent’s money
We eat our lives away
As we stand face to face with vanity
And feel so lonely that its sick
With needles in our veins
We forget to feel
And we don’t get caught
We’re allowed to slowly kill ourselves
Because of what we have
Because we, the bubble children
Could never do what we are doing
And when we’re hanging from the rafters
Or having pills pumped from our hearts
They seem oh so surprised
When we all knew what was happening
Behind the gilded doors
But who are we to speak out
Us perfect, shining bubble people
They clamp their hands over our mouths
Like the boys in the rear seats
Who are entitled to take everything
Because their blood is rich
And ‘no’ means less than air
For our reputation means more to them
Then our innocence and our virginity
As long as no one hears of evil
Then there is none
But tell that to the girl
Who knows porcelain bowls as friends
And tell that to the jock
Who knows what its like to sweat and bleed
To please everyone but himself
To the bubble kids in jail
Hidden in ditches
Hidden in rehab
To the bubble kids in homes
Covered with bruises
From fists, booze and words
Tell us that we know nothing of pain
Tell us that we know nothing
And its true that we know nothing of you
But we are the bubble people
And we didn’t ask to be
You may have the world to fight in
But we only have each other
And we’re eating each other alive
Because you put us on this pedestal
Hemmed in all our secrets
And we, the bubble children
Know what it’s like to be trapped.
© Copyright 2009 Elizabeth Rose (elizabethroze at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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