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As a child, play Every night and day We see the world as our playground, Though we are not from around. But as an adult, we have to work Even though work is a jerk. Adlts have to think
Nobody ever told me that growing up meant leaving things behind, that dreams don't just appear but are to be fought for,
The mind is like the gravel next to the track Always in front and in the back Is it fast or is it slow? It depends on when the train goes Sometimes it completes
Organized Ramblings A collection of various poems by Kate Emrich April 29, 2017
Anticipation - I felt, during the hot, arid summer, with the fan’s soft whiz in the background. “I’m going to be a senior, this year.” Fear- a feeling that built up, slowly at first, then
There was a boy who stowed A box of lollipops beneath his bed.Each evening he would take one outAnd gently scratch its head.And then the pop, so gleeful,would reveal its great surpriseA flower bloomed around its headAnd danced before his eyes.Each
I look at the ground underneath my feet
Poor Poor Alita from Chickapee Street.
I see your face near tearsto our future reflected
One day, the man just wasn’t there anymore
I remember how the dogs never slept at night, how sticky my skin got after a day in the heat, how I stopped taking showers because I thought lake water would do just fine, and if your hair got greasy,
Trapped in a shell She's clawing to get out But no one can tell She makes sure, without a doubt. Father would be enraged That's why I keep her caged. If you differ in opinion,
Who I am, I am someone who is not who they appear to be, Secrets, are what make up who I am, A past that haunts, however does not prevail over who I want to be, I am who I am,
We have a tendency to hideEveryday before leaving homeWe put on our maskAnd leave to go into the real worldThere's almost no room for authenticityHow can we "just" be ourselves?Your beliefs, my opinion,
I grew up in the Bronx Where gang war goes on Drung Dealers sell to crack heads And teen mom raising babies Old people have no health care And homeless people have no where to go
I meander through the neighborhood, searching for the house. Once found, I happily jump the 5 steps to the front door and pass a silhouette smoking a cigg.
I remember, when I was fourteen, I found out my friend had been raped. I didn't even know what it meant back then. My friend, she was a drug addict. Living with the trauma.
I used to prefer ignorance But no, no, no, I did'nt. I hated the mindset of "ignorance is bliss" I was a walking contradition Bound to get hit with reality
another day wasted on waiting for only you to come back to me
god i constantly feel like I'm screaming i feel like I'm just crying into peoples ear drums begging them to help me oh please oh god please help me i constantly feel like I'm clutching their hands
The burning under my skin, a fire clawing out of my body. I hear the tortured souls cry as they are slowly burned. The demons hide in the shadows, waiting for me to sleep. The moment I close my eyes,
Time. It just keeps ticking. Do I let it pass me by
"I will always love you," she said to the man she wed
Sea of Love By: Jimmy Orantes The sea of love My darling Is where i found you Our eyes locked Our hearts stopped The stars aligned Oh, how we met by great design
I don't know when this started really. This feeling of falling. This feeling of emptiness that started as a dark seed and seemed to grow and grow, taller and darker, branching into the paths of my mind,
We peel each other’s clothes off Unwrapping gifts My Roman statue in the flesh
He's glaring at meI can see the shift in himCharm rusted"Don't play adult games when you act like a child"He says this with a new sullen toneOne I hadn't heard him use before
I. I wonder if I’ll ever learn to spell the word receipt without having to google it first, if I’ll find the courage to pull back the curtain and enter into the uncertainties of my life
Up I go Onto my own two feet My first time My first step I pulled myself up But then I fell I began to cry But my mom pulled me up "Don't cy" She said
Sit and stare at the photo
Are you afraid, are you left cold By the thought of our parting, The final separation On that lonely day Somewhere in the distance, The unknowable future that Folds the Now and the Then
If you were to visit my elementary school playground between my 3rd and 6th grade years you could find a
I. Where do the days go When a mind smooths itself above The rippling bubble Aimlessly resting Unaware of the big pop. Where will the days go? II. Old
A young girl plays in the warm sunlight. Tag, you're it. Running, Laughing, Living. Hours pass. Like all children, the girl in the lavender dress is restless. Dusk.
Legato, my heart, but sing with sweet joy The eternal tide of time tarries on Even though these moments have long been gone That is only our cruel mind’s clever ploy Dreams do not fade or fly; dreams do not die
You said You promised (Cross your heart and hope to die) That you would never tell That I was the one who took the last cookie that day in Kindergarten Because we were
my earliest memory of you was back in India, when I visited your house for the first time since we left the country
The children venture Into still deeps of forest, its edges ink black, A wall of silence. Their lantern held high Aloft, a sole point of light Within the void, Without the night.
There once was a dragon. He breathed fire. He was bright pink with golden stripes. But he wasn’t a mean dragon. He was a nice dragon who flew around and gave people cotton candy.
When I’m standing at this ridge between today and tomorrow, And I’m learning to fix my mouth to call myself a woman, And l scratch for the crack of a niche in which I’ll fall into place, I exhale and I write.
It's kinda funny how when you're small all you dream about is growing tall and becoming an adult. But they never said life would be this hard. It's not all sugar plums and fairy tales.
Understand that there is doubt, that you may lose whom you care about But such is the weight of living; and Although we have fear: Trembles Visions Lust Hindsight Hope Doubt Depression