Two Weeks of Hell

This poem details a narrative that starts on April 7, 1999. So many things happened during the next two weeks. It started with the dramatic fight with my parents and ended with a break up after a friend's death. It also included prom, competitions, Columbine, friend's suicide threats, and more. This poem is true... and is the only time in high school I really remember thinking that life was totally falling apart.

11th grade, age 16

Two Weeks of Hell
They say hell is hot, with burning raging flames.
It's a mix of a thousand evils, just faces, no names.
But how can a place so red, be so sad, and so blue?
Where you're lonely, and silent,
and where you realize what is true.


Where pain draws no blood,
but the river runs deep and long.
Where the weak are broken farther,
and evil destroys the strong.
Hell's a place where laughs are fake,
and smiles fade away.
It's not in the center of earth,
but surrounds us all each day.


Two weeks ago I found that hell is on the earth.
Though I thought this to be heaven,
whatever the thought is worth.
My family ripped apart, with 
violence, anger and shame.
All because of stories, and the author hid the name.


Then came the all out truth, the hate was finally clear.
And once again we started, and chose to remain here.
Then the threat that tears the heart, that of suicide.
My best friend, wouldn't promise me, he held too much pride.


How can you deserve to live, if you can't save another?
Yet somehow he held on, we still needed each other.
The weakness of the moment,
cause more loss to come
and plans of years before are missed,
and that can't be undone.


And those who held you up
with respect and admiration,
Now don't notice you, they
think you folded from intimidation.
They left you to rebuild, written you off as weak.
They simply nod instead of listen, anytime you speak.


Then that awful night with a stupid little mistake.
Left a family without a girl and a school with a shake.
The fight to cope was hard, a battle to get time.
It was all so senseless, no reason or rhyme.


And the killer is hated, yet he was once a friend.
He simply made a mistake, and made a life end.
Usually you'd forgive him, but the loss affected you.
So no you choose between dead and alive, and you 
don't know what to choose.


So you watch friends cry, you watch all the tears.
And so weak you can't help, you can't calm fears.
Now the pain lives in you and in all the rest.
Yet you can't stop to heal, though you try your best.


Then tragedy strikes again, and 16 are left dead.
And questions and fear arise, and live on in the head.
So left alone to grieve one person takes the hand.
And when you felt like falling, he helps you stand.


Yet, he is so distant, and you feel he'll soon be gone, 
and when it all end, alone you'll move beyond.
He caught you when you fell, he held you up so high.
Now you fear he'll throw you down,
and down you will lie.


So alone now, are you, no one to lead the way.
And you're left to your thoughts,
praying to end the day.

Hell is the place where hearts feel with hate.
Souls are full of fear, comfort found too late.


I'd take a bloody battle, with injuries for a day,
Before I'd live with the pain
caused by waiting this way.
Waiting for the flames to die, and for life to return.
For the ashes may make it better,
but it's not worth the burn.


I wish I could just turn it off, 
forget and close my eyes.
Till everything goes away, and the pain all dies.


For hell is a horrible place, lonesome, fearful, and sad.
It takes away all the strength,
You only thought you had.