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It comes into your life- A fresh soul, Awaiting a home Waiting for tender loving and care You could offer them the world A field of friends, Connected by roots But when you start to neglect
you tried to teach me that I am made of air quiet, docile, not to be noticed it wasn't until you tried to burn me at the stake that I found out I am made of
I'm sorry for all the time I've made you cry And for making you loose that twinkle in your eye I'm sorry if I was the one too break your heart But fixing that is where I plan too start I'm sorry for not trusting in you That's something that I'm tr
Plant a kiss On whoever’s forehead you can Without awakening The more goodbyes the better, But too many On those who care too much
Today I’m talking about the experience of growing It’s hard. Learning to evolve. Learning to be strong But I am vital. I am loved. And today, I am glowing.
Burn choke crack Smoking Crack To fill the crack Smells like crack To just get some smack Id be alive again Feel alive again Try again Walking on eggshells
Never be afraid to turn away from the past.Never be afraid to burn the bridges.Some people can only grow once their roots are nothing but ashes.Like a pine sapling after a raging wildfire.
Soy un viento Fuerte pero suave, fluyendo a través de la vida Callado como un susurro Soy el sol Radiante pero a veces apagado, desanimado de la vida Roto como una luz titilante Soy un árbol Alto pero inseguro, temblando con el caos de la v
Like a small seed beginning to sprout from the soil A story of many chapters begins The plot of a life's story cannot spoil As the small, naive child widely grins
long ago, once upon a time without a worry in the world I knew life would be just fine as I grew and as I learned all of a sudden I had more concerns that really scared me at first
You learned that nothing ever stays still, And that life moves just beneath your feet. That falling in love is definitely scary, and that a broken heart doesn't mean defeat.
When I was in the ninth grade The school wanted us professional in how we dress and how we behave A certain day of the week Which they called a bit of a treat From the normalcy of uniforms of khaki and navy
Everything suddenly changed, beneath the ground that started to split She thought her feet were on solid ground, a truth she brought herself to admit The sun could only shine for so long, while a million suns sustained her world
I look back at my freshman year Blind and as ignorant as can be To believe there was nothing to fear My mind was exposed as far as I could see
Girl to Woman I am just a girl. 12 years and 8 months old when my mother decided to leave. I am just a girl.
I knew shifts started to happen when I became a man Less about playing and more about making a plan They say that the glow up was real All I see is the oppurrtunity took it and ran
I remember giving a bracelet to one of my babysitter's when I was young. I made it out of my mother's yarn.
you meet these people on the path of life as lovers, as friends, as family as something entirely different sometimes they stay,
I work days away. I save, play, and have to say what I want, and when.
If you ever lose me You did not chose me I am a river You are the bay I pour all of me into you For our connection to stay If you lose me You did not chose me
When I realized I was growing up There wasn’t just one instance for me First came the responsibility For I was given plenty
Sitting atop ruins Covering the rotting past I have found my own hideaway: This Hundred Acre Wood. To call my own. Yes, it is far
Growing up seems so tough
When I was younger I felt very lost I played with my toys But didn't realize the cost I knew I had a mission For my curiosity to explore I searched everywhere But never opened the right door
The days were unnumbered, nobody cared, Once a child I had nothing to fear, The years that passed were something I had beared,
I no longer need my mom’s help Phone bill and food all paid off by myself Ordering at least three pairs of shoes My mom now doesn’t have a single clue
My heart flutters and bangs its way throughout my body. Adrenaline courses through my veins and your hands trace it out of my skin. Hot breath in my mouth and out yours.
My mind and body so young and sweet Ready to grasp the world and be free Questions always spreading from my mind to my fingertips Young and wild and full of joy Another year older and brought to different standards
When did we start saying stomach instead of tummy? “I’m well” instead of “I’m good?” Steak instead of pizza? When did we start using words like love instead of like?
Oh little Anika. You have dealt with crap. You have been ripped of your innocence, With social statuses social quotas, social pressure,
it was blossom of spring a spring in my step a beautiful flower rising up from the broken dirt the blossoming of new found and new born life the life of a girl who used
Childhood. A concept where everyone hopes, Wishes, and dreams Will last a lifetime. There is much stigma on both sides,
She falls apart often she pretends it’s alright But she goes back to that night it wasn’t the first, it wasn’t the last but it was the one that shattered her mask she ignored the things from the past
By : Brianna Garcia 1,2,3 hey little Bri Everything has changed It's not how it used to be from a shy little girl curled up in her head to a full grown women
It is bittersweet. I miss taking you to eat and I miss rubbing on your feet. I miss having someone to trust and to be vulnerable with and to lust after.. You'd eat my broccoli and I'd eat your crust.
The tyranny of the sun is harsh, Oppressing its subject Creating laws which say you always have to smile But smiling is hard It's hard to when your friends all smile
Taunting vultures circulate overhead Without invitation. The incessant, whipping wings Pay no mind to The air that I displace.
It is two am- the limbo between morning and night- and I have to be up in 5 hours max. Can't sleep. All I can think about is time travel 'cause I just watched a movie where they played with time
at the age of twenty-four, i will stand at the foot of my bed and stare down at the single imprint in the mattress where my body laid for four days. as a profession of loneliness,
I couldn’t use a glass pen For it would break From the pressure I place All the words and mistakes It would break
Under my shirt is my skin under my skin is my heart under my heart, boiling water an ocean above flames. The fuel, words a combination they call poetry metaphors and similes
I apologize that you don't like me. I apologize that you don't understand me. I apologize that you never got to know the real me. I will not apologize for being me. I will not apologize for having a dream.
I walk on a thin line. The one that leads to nothing. On either side, a place I am scared to be. I walk in hope of something to revive me.
Inside me is a story of struggles and pains Its wandered too far and deep in my veins The story in my veins is behind my blood and skin It travels throughout my body telling dark tales of sin
I never feel like I belong anywhere and I always feel as though I'm in someone else's space. I don't think this is the way I am suppose feel, I miss being secure and stable in the person I was.
they way that poems speak; had once spoken to me, it said, "ain't your time to leave" don't worry you'll pull through, you still got air to breath. but we've got work to do to get you on your feet
At 9 you will discover feel that you are So grown up-and in too many ways you are Because you have to be but please remember That it’s okay to be a kid
To my First, I remember the day that I witnessed your impressionable smile and sparkling eyes. I remember the tiny flutter of my heart, that feeling that you were going to mean something to me.
Dear former self, I’m writing you from the other side of that place Where the two rivers meet You haven’t seen it with your earthly eyes But have with your soul You haven’t a memory of it
Dear lost lover, I miss you in the morning. My coffee doesn’t taste right without the hint of your laugh that you used to add to it. The birds don’t sound as good as they used to without
indigestible being that was the lesson-- you had to leave they needed to let you go even though you thought of youself as sweet remember, you too, were poison.
Dear 5 no presents under the Christmas tree, only means that Santa is still working and refining your gift. dear 7 loud screams in the kitchen and hiding under the covers wont last forever,
I was nine and in the fourth grade, I was favorited by the teacher and By my peers. I excelled in class and on the playground, I was the one that brought the fun.
To my ambition, To my dreams. At first, you popped into my mind Like a grape from a vine, Whilst I watched Youtube videos of
To my younger self, I did not know I did not sow Oh, how you’ve come to grow In this battle I must have shown
I gave you somethingyou probably shouldn’t of receivedI’m weary eyedthinking about how you seemed to lead charming sweet smiledemeanor honest and truthfulwhy did my heart have to be so couthful?
A heaving chest, Quick breaths, You stole the very air from my lungs. A watchful eye, Beautiful surprise, You took my focus for yourself. A thumping heart, Set apart,
A smile on my face even when it hurts to make it happen A ache in my heart , not knowing why it's happening A broken mind,trying to holding on to every piece pain and anger is the only things escaping me
I've fallen into the mirror again Eyes on me, but where have mine been Escape this version I try to explain Lost within the thoughts in my brain Anticipating the end of my rope
Yesterday you were but a seed in your forefather’s mind. Love, continue growing.
America, the great dream That lured so many Still a renounced temptation America the great dream of more More land, more space, more freedom You can breath There is room to grow
take this cup away from me do not force me to believe the lies you feed me i can see them a mile away. like the greens on the plate of a child. they're avoided and taste awful when swallowed
i snap and snarl when thoughts dark and vial are found inside my head so with my jaws and help from the Lord i shake them out of my head when the thoughts grow back
I. January Do you want to know what it’s like to be introverted? Imagine you are at a pool; music playing, people laughing You splash your way around, treading on the tips of your toes Floating
2016 was just another year for me. But I know as the new year comes, 2017 I will grow smarter, more responsible, and ready to take on new challenges. 2017 is the year I graduate.
I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry. I drown - my mind draws a blank, Everyone is flying, Down, I drown. One breath of air, But I don't see the source of oxygen. I breathe, but small, cautious breaths.
1460 nights agotogether, we sit on top of a stranger’s washer and dryer our legs swing our hearts pound
Chipped nails, relieved breaths I let go of filing, and painting and repeating Two years of ink, deep breathes All for a sheet of paper, it hangs on my wall New room, cold breaths
I don’t remember January. I came into this year terrified, A friend about to commit suicide. Tears, tears Are all January brought.
I remember my first A story about hidden pain A story about the desperate cries I remember my first Because then, I had nothing to gain I found my mind devouring the paper
When I was 4, I spoke with a stutter. My parents were concerned- I, I, I, didn't know I spoke the way I did. When I, I, I, was 8, my stutter went away. No, it did not vanish, it made a home in my brain.
On the day my sibling chose the rope A woman came to the door After dad cut him down I listened to his chest There was no beat
Growing up, I learned that if I wanted to be with the angels, I had to attack the situation from a different angle, In order to earn my halo, Which I should never hang low. Growing up,
I wrote three poems this morning. One was lost on the all encompassing sea of digi-perdition The second wasn't true. This one had better mean something.
Why am I still standing here In this place where I was once happy Even though I close my eyes I still feel you staring down at me Why won't you leave me alone? How am I supposed to move on with this stare?
I remember the days of having a prime directive The forward motion of my life insured beyond doubt I had a line to tow me in if the tide of the world grew too strong
everything i write lately has been nothing but pain but i fail to notice all the flowers growing from the rain i see the storm not the cleanse i see a new beginning as the end
I reminisce of weightlessness: peering down into 10, 20 feet of air. My delicate days, I recall, as a haze full of branches: a careful cloud of offshoots that, long as I could,
The sands fall wastefully, Across the charcoal floor, How? I ask, with a harrowed sigh, Might I fill the glass with more?
I am the girl with the new glance each day I open my eyes all bright and shiny The morning shimmers in fresh irises now blue, now green, then brown again Have you ever seen someone so transitional?
The things I see in the darkness of my room at night they flicker with fairy-like insincerity of dreams you don't quite remember Memories of your hand in mine fades like I've rubbed my eyes too hard
I have seen so little in this life The people I know fill my head with stories but my eyes have not seen the fullness of this earth I have seen so little of this world
I am a human I started small And grew up large Started thin And gained my curves I am a human I have two strong legs That carry me Daily Across school Across my journey
A winding road of thoughts.
As the cool wind blew briskly through the barren forest a single head of fire bounced down t
I am from a Caucasian mother and an African American father
I am a growing tree but I'll always be cut down. They tore out all of my flowers, and threw them on the ground. Yet I'll continue growing, I'm never going to stop. Even if they all uproot me
A eight-year does not sit in the summer grass and think up their future selves. They think of the next glass of kool-aid and where their "pet" frog went.
Oh to have a beard, that is my dearest wish. I am so smooth and hairless just like a little fish. It would be smooth and silky like ladies underwear
In this orchard, Everyone is picking Their own juicy apples.
Today I went through my poems and threw out everything I ever wrote about you Yesterday, I would have cried
Time, I’m begging you please Slow down for me You’re going too fast Like a child running mad Yes, Like a child running mad Time, please go real slow
I remember when our connection had its first break: I changed so sudden, and the whole time I was feeling your heart break. It was a pain so strong that sometimes I still feel your heartache.
Four trees grew in a clearing A weeping willow An oak A dogwood And a sapling. A stranger planted the sapling
Flowers have been planted in my heart Roots intertwineing with my veins pulling them apart Seeds burrowed deep inside my chambers The planters thinking they are doing me a favor Some stay and help them grow
I am from a small house with many people, The sound of birds and smell of food. Toys all around and bikes scattered on the ground. Sitting at a full table and dreaming of a new life.
Like a sunflower, I am growing. As a child I was a like a seed,
These times are clouded by impenetrable facades; Captivated by the immaculate charades. Foreseen by those that are watching in awe, As they stand only to be cursed and decay.
Life and its troubles are changing with each passing day the world’s Pain is severe and unending and can lead the strongest-willed astray But a bigger part of the soul,
Notice all the old folks, hear them say What happened to the kids nowadays? Sitting on their ass, shorts way too high Lying, cheating with pants down to their thighs This is the age of the young, wild, and free
Growing Pains I think we become a bit of everyone else before we truly become ourselves. I always told my mom that I wanted to be this beautiful girl I saw on tv when I grow up.
I gaze into the mirror, wait that isn't me Someone else is looking back at me An eldery man, clean shaven with striking brown eyes I then realize, they are mine. Sunken cheekbones of slow death
Sweet flower, oh so delicate Awaiting to bloom, within the first week of November To have something to give thanks for The beautiful flower that is to come
The volume of my heart is low,
I made myself in their image by the time I was 13. Squeezed my body into the pieces of their machine. My laugh too boisterous, I learned to snicker. My smile too wide, I snapped it in half.
The strong person finds inspiration in pain and strife. The weak person wallows in it. Choose your person Find your strength Remember who you are, What you stand for
As a seed we learn and soak in experiences and hurt. Our growth is formed solely in our direction whether we follow the light of the sun or the dark of the room. But to learn in the right we must be taught by another.
The legend of the koi fish goes that if the koi fish swims up the waterfall it one day it will become a dragon. Since I was little,
I'm my own mind,thoughts, and process Creating thoeries from my past Asking why did I turn out the way I am Thinking sullenly like the dark clouds in the sky
I am from the cicadas of hot humid summers
I remember how I used to be; all the same, I remember who I used to want to be.
Why must you make me suffer? One error and I am faulty? Why do you uproot my regret and prevent me from my blossom? Even the most delicate rose has its thorns, and you still
Lights Within Us Ashley Shea A spec afar Whose luminosity amplifies as darkness approaches A small light Suspended in the gloom Much like the hearts within us
Social Media Facebook - Making a page that will deliberately describe what I want to say.
Mommy says she taught me bestMommy says she taught me right
Please take a minute and look into my eyes I'm going to speak a little of my demise You see, Just one job could change my life if you look at me, you can't see my strife
Life hits you like a bolt to a tree,
A good friend of mine once told me "Close friends? You don't have them. They're all over there, away from you, Because you, yourself, are making a schism." This struck me as odd, and I stopped.
Rising like a Tree Grow, grow, grow Reach for the sky Climb ever so high Never stop
When I am left alone I feel as though i'm fake. A clay sculpture that can't live a mistake no one can fix. What it has done to love, a wound never being healed, only getting worse,
Changing the world is an impossible thing,
I am the strange man. The man that is a boy. The boy that is a man. I play words as a decoy, I refuse to write and wrong with the same hands. So I try to write as well as I can.
he counts the money in his wallet the bills running through his cold hands he imagines them as her hands she counts the freckles on her shoulders her skin is cold
The night she will always remember Her eyes wide, the lights dim around her Silence
i dream of happier days:before the cell phone,her now-constant companion.before computers, iPods.before she caredabout how she looks.about fitting in,conforming.back when a night light
From this distance, The outline of her is only visible. Time has made a small impact, But her coldness has caused the gap I call her name, Only to see her respond to another.
I fear myself well who i think i might be i might be gay but my heart denies me it tells me no yours as straight as they come and then i see her and the butterflies run
We walk the same path
War.War within myself,War surrounds me.Inside I'm freedom,but self-made bonds are magnetizing me.
There was constant sobbing That could not be held in any longer They sat on their bed looking at their body They knew that they were not worth the effort They didn't want to belong on this planet
From the time we come into this world To the time we pass away, Our souls continue to grow I have a growing soul. When we begin to crawl, walk Then talk, Our souls continue to grow
I'm tired of pretending I'm happy. I'm tired of pretending I'm okay. I'm tired of pretending I don't care, when there's so much more I could say. I'm crying out, but no one hears.
Be free like you should beOnly 16.I won't hold you back any longerIn the mess I'm used toThe abuse I've gone through.
I constantly feel like I'm growing, my knowledge, height, but always terrified of it happening to my waist because that's what I was taught growing up that beauty depended on the number on a scale
I’m like a vine of ivy I need a tree to climb I will grow so long and lithe I’ll make that flora mine The moment I reach the sky feel O2 in my green
Smiles are like trees Growing Changing Supporting Branching.
I am a testament to small potatoes. I am a testament to childhood dreams I forgot I had, Only to uncover them in fit of tears and to the knowledge that
Change changes the page Of the story I live, Rearranges the stage Of the performance I give. Swiftly sifting the sands Of this time, Surgically snipping the strands Of my prime.
You stare at your reflection, Sighing at your imperfect complexion. Your now “okay” haircut that’s past the trend, And your pouty face you try to defend.
I am an adult in a child's body,Borrowing Mommy's risque red lipstick,Wearing her sky high black heels, andStrutting around with her cell phone in my hand.
One, two, three, four, five, / A child's delight so simple, / Green and growing, she.
I live my life trying to create such precious memories. Living with all these people I thought were a friend to me.
Tonight the moon is rusty redHanging low over the horizons bedI haven't seen to far beyondThat's going to change when I'm goneI've always felt the sting of bright lightsI just yearn for starry nights.
The houses of the holy made from rotting pine and ichor the soft sinew of fallen things abounds the stench of decomposing things could palpitate a figure in miasmatic rapture from the grounds
Time may separate Yet thoughts and feelings transcend Finding their way home.
I would say I love the like the night loves the day, But we cannot correlate the feelings of all the times I created each one. My poems were a song of sorrow, They expressed my deepest anger with the world I used to know.
I have always lived in a world of fantasy unicorns, mermaids, werewolf's, monsters. The thoughts and hopes and dreams of a child feeling beyond her years. Being made from pataches of different colors
Here I am, once again Sitting in the same place, same routine, same faces I’ve mistaken a change in pace to be progress, a step out of this mess I’m discouraged at the realization, no longer through the rearview mirror;
Little tiny tricycle All shiny and new Painted bright red With a little white stripe Ready to ride, To stride, to wheel, Ready to begin, Eager, To be ridden by one Who would enjoy it,
Hello My name is Ashleigh I am a 19 year old African American female that was born in December Not only am I trying to succeed in beating out the statistics I am also proving that I can and will be something
If I were a tree, I would want to grow, tall, and round green and brown. I would stretch my branches wide, so that children, in them, would hide. And when my time to go was near, I would never shed a tear.
Tossed in the air, how's it gonna fall? sometimes two options are easier than all, but you never really understand, the power is out of your hands I can still hear the sound of the echo
In my time of need, words rushed me Incoherent and strangled words Fearful and swarming in my mind So I took them into my hand And stuffed them into my pocket They became scattered and sullied
Sun kissed rosebuds grow over dreary old benches quiet pairs to hold.
I’ve daydreamed myself invisible. Lost in the blur of faces, names, laughter, colors. The school hallways are Tetris, and I’m a piece trying to fit before I am crowded out. Crowds.
I’ve daydreamed myself invisible. Lost in the blur of faces, names, laughter, colors. The school hallways are Tetris, and I’m a piece trying to fit before I am crowded out. Crowds.