Sticks and Stones

It's a tragedy.
When we ban people from carrying flashlights,
Because they are 'potential weapons'.
When kids can't play on the streets,
Because rapists and killers abound.
You know, sometimes we say the strangest things,
Just to get people to like us.
We put on a mask, bleed honeyed words,
Perfectly balanced on who we are not.
How many times have you told a lie to impress?
Eventually, your lies become you,
And it becomes harder and harder
To escape.
It's like the edge of a good dream,
On the very cusp of reality and fiction,
And you know you're going to wake up,
Into this nightmare of a world.
Why do we pretend?
Why do we gossip, injure others, mock and talk,
Just to gain approval?
To increase your social status -
Make others feel worse.
To fit in. Fit in. Fin.
To log onto Facebook, or Myspace,
MSN, Google Talk, ICQ,
And to do what? Gossip about others?
"Did you hear she got pregnant?"
"He's going out with her now. What a joke."
"She's so fat. She should lose some weight."
"Man, he's the ugliest kid in school."
We've all felt it, said it, been on both ends of the stick.
In the caf, in the halls, you see these people,
Shunned by the social crowd, wandering,
Trying to find just one place
Where they can fit in.
A loneliness that can become a physical sickness.
If no one cares for you, why care for yourself?
So you start doing things to gain attention.
Maybe you do something stupid one day,
Like swear at a teacher, or get into a fight.
Suddenly, you're noticed. You're superman.
But the next day, everyone has already forgotten you.
So you fight again. You gain status at the expense of others.
And one day, when you're noticed, and have respect,
You see someone, wandering the halls, alone,
Just like you used to be.
And you say,
"Look at that loser."
Stick and stones may break my bones,
But words can never hurt me.
What a lie.