Mental health is a topic very close to my heart, and not only do i have my own issues, but my twelve year old son too. There is simply not enough provision for mental health, especially child and adolescent. This poem was inspired by a documentary that was on a couple of weeks ago. Broke my heart. NB My son is not suicidal, he has anxiety issues, but many kids are.


When you’re twelve years old and you’ve had enough
Of this sickened, filtered, twisted, rifted
Motive shifted, Kardashian tit-lifted world
When days are knocking on the doors of empty houses
Gazing through windows of opulence
But at night you’re there again, sleeping rough
In this maze of mental health
In this haze of giving up cos life’s too fucking tough.

So a pill’s a pill
So what if you knock back a death sentence?
What if you let your soul bleed and your tears spill?
And the pills slip down, down
Emotions drowned, regrets not making sounds
Years of heartache and sadness driving your pain to the ground
Pain to the pill to the pill to the pain
Who gives a shit if you sit here and cry again?
No one dares to see you, sane or insane
Hurtling along like a broken bowling ball
in the pre-teen child psychiatry lane.

When you’re twelve years old
And suicide is the coat you covet
And you wear the hat of a depressed diplomat
Playing self-harm cricket with a knife and not a bat
And with each hurt comes another scar
And with each hurt comes another scar
And with each hurt comes another scar
And twinkle, twinkle little scar
I see your tears, I see your fears, I feel your pain from afar
So why doesn’t anyone
Fucking help me?

Is it those poison ivy girls again?
Do their tongues clack their tickety-boo nonsense?
Churning words of insults cursed,
Wickedness in unrehearsed dramas
They know how to hurt the hurting
And the hurting know how to hurt.
You are worth so much more
If your strength would rise up and thrust a fist
through the floor
Of their house of sticks
Then maybe the sticks and stones would break THEIR bones.

When you’re twelve years old
And you’ve had enough of the merciless world
But the world hasn’t had enough of you
And you’re trying to lose your feeble grip
But the world keeps clinging on
And you’re exhausted and your soul is void and blue
And you wish everyone would just fuck off
Just fuck right off
And you could do this suicide thing
You could finally see it through.

But the world hasn’t had enough
Of you

©2020 Sarah Drury


Last week my son was accused of cyberbullying because he fought back against a boy who had been mean to him for a few weeks, calling him a dumbass and stupid. My son retaliated for a change and it got him into trouble! It prompted me to write this little poem…


I see you, schoolboy
Hiding behind your fancy computer
Loitering behind your flashy keyboard
Waiting for your victim to come online again
Waiting for that kill, to inflict your vicious pain
I see you, schoolboy
I see your game.

I see you, schoolboy
Hiding behind that tough façade
Fists raised like a literary sword
Gathering up your bully boy herds
And your nasty flock of bully birds
Bruises, punches but in menacing words
I see you, schoolboy
I see your ways, the wicked, the absurd.

I see you, schoolboy
You go for the jugular, you go for the kill
With your don’t give a shit attitude
With your superior airs, with your steel nerved will
Putting your victim through a suicide mill
Sending them crazy, throwing them downhill
I see you, schoolboy
I see how you feel the thrill.

I see you, schoolboy
Why are you so intimidating all the time?
Why do you get your cheap thrills online?
Don’t you care about the person
at the other end of your heartless line?
Don’t you even give a shit, are your emotions benign?
I see you, schoolboy, your victim’s hopeless, but you’re doing just fine.

©2020 Sarah Drury

Farewell Innocence

I am a child
And innocence
Innocence you owed me nothing.
When you held up your weapon.
Into the heart of
My sinlessness
into the heart of
My righteousness
into the heart of
My guiltlessness
into the heart of
My blamelessness.
Straight into
My heart bleeds
With the remorseful blood
Of my sins
My heart bleeds
If it is a sin to be a victim
I will perish
In the burning vaults of Hell
Although I am there
And I am burnt
And the devil had a kinder demeanor
Than the hallowed nuns and priests
Purveyors of misery
Since God gave them power
Over the voiceless innocents.
I will be defiled
At the hands of those
Who cup my sanguine little heart
In hands gnarled with the falsehood
Of celebrity faces
Parading their goodness
On the silver screen
Dipping toes into
In forbidden oceans
Possessing innocence
Like an evil spirit
Possesses a holy child.
Aim again at my head
Digital technology
Leaves me for dead
See him, grooming so sweetly?
He asked me ‘How old?’
I told him ‘Old enough’
He told me
‘over 13’s not welcome’
‘and do you have any interested friends?’
The curse of Facebook
And Snapchat
And Whatsapp
And Instagram
As age is not a truth
And you’re only as old
As the filter on your selfie.

I am a child
And innocence
You owed me everything.
In a day that playing in the streets
Is a travesty
As hungry eyes
Sick with the affliction
Of deviant sexuality
Scrutinize the imagined suitability
Of a pure heart innocent
Cerebrally laid at the altar
Of an act so despicable
I turn the weapon
I aim it at your twisted head
For all I despise your sickness
And the fact that
I cannot live in a world
Where I am safe
I am loved
And am not a victim
Of sexual perversion
I cannot kill you
Because you are a God
In this monopoly
Of this sick society
In which we so sadly
You live.
YOU live.
I die.

© Sarah Drury 2019