Everyday I'm fighting that face in the mirror
with my emotions never getting clearer
Looking at a face
that I cannot see
a face that isn't me
A face I call my
own?
A face I do not condone
I look in to my eyes
I despise what I see
these eyes are not me
I stare at that smile
A smile that can tell
some stories for a while
That smile isn't me
That smile is what people see
They see
That face
That isn't
*Me

Brisk air
The wind in my hair
The things I love about fall
Small leaves tumble to the ground
The crunching sound
when you walk around
The smell of pumpkin in the air
The way the trees look so beautiful
so bare
I love so many things about fall
But it is him who I love most of all
The smell of his car when we go for a ride
The way his smile makes me light up inside
Now I could go on for ever about what I love
Instead I'll compare him to the season I speak of
Cold breeze on my skin
Standing hand in hand with him
I wish I could truly explain how I feel
But I can't
and thats how I know this is real
Thats how this season makes me feel.

Day one walk into high school
See all the freshman boys drool
Over senior girls in their short skirts
Over getting the championship football shirt
But high school is awkward
I'm not talking burping public awkward
I'm talking tripping and falling in to a bucket of ***** mop water that was just lifted of the buffet of germs that is the floor - awkward
Then having the hottest boy at school be right there watching
Traumatized - you get up and brush you self off
Only to turn around and see the mean girl there
Horrified -
High school is awkward
So don't spend time worrying about it
We all go through bad hair days
I know it's a cliché
But the more time you spend complaining
And waiting
The more you can hear a cracking sound
That is your own spirit breaking -
But you have to understand
There are going to be days -
Day's where it rains
And the water fills up your boots
And you want to say deuces
Because you are tired of being abused
But guess what
It's time to stop playing cute -
Silly goose -
Enough excuses
You have to be like a ******* and ****** -
****** high school like it's your *****
Like it might try and punch you in the face
And you wont even flinch -
Because some day you're going to be rich
And some day you're going to thank high school -
For showing you "it only gets better from here"
Because the only place to go from the bottom is up
And you're only getting prepared for your close up
So don't accept anything
And challenge everything -
Because contrary to what you're told
High school will not define you -
And if that's as good as it gets for some people then I'm sorry -
But there is so much more to life then learning the square root of ninety
Every time you want to hit the control key - and hit control Z
Don't
Because you cant undo the past
And you can't copy and paste the future
So if you're struggling that much - get a tutor
Life is not about just getting to the next goal
So don't be satisfied with adequate -
Average -
And "Just okay"
Because one day when you're old and grey
You will be sitting smiling in dismay
Dismay until you decay
Decaying in the ground
Put back where you were once found
You will no longer be thinking about that one time you and fell into a mop bucket -
But instead the time you made everyone your *****
Because no school can understand how strong one of us is
One who decides to look past the awkward and make themselves - awesome
And it's okay to be awesome
It's okay to rock them
Life is a gem
So pick up a pen
And the next time when
Someone tells you high school is awkward
Call them a coward
And tell them to take a cold shower
Because they need to wake up
And smell the - erasers
Before they get a facer
Because no greats have ever become so by taking it safer
Now do yourself a favor -
And Start Making High School **Greater

There is something to be said about a girl with no make up
No one thinks much of her
No one notices
but she is content with that
there is something about not caking on fake
not saying all those who do - are
but just saying there is something - as too far
when a girl can stand in the mirror and see
she is more than an absentee
absent from the flow of girls
with painted on faces and burned curls
The ones who will stand alone
who will try no more
than to just be known
known for nothing but herself
not needing any help
no aid to her face
no fake barbie standing in her place
it's something so rare to see
a girl who is brave enough - to just let her skin be
a girl who only has her born face to wear
something that is beautiful -  just naked and bare
There is something to be said about a girl with no make up
- no nothing just her

Empty room
Empty heart
I just wanna go back to the start
the start of it all
the walk before the fall
Beginning before the end
When
when will it end
The hurt
before being put in the dirt
before dirt is all i know
I mean c'mon we all know this is a show
for all the foes
and the hoes
who dared
dared to doubt my creativity
To suffer your insensitivity
to my insecurities
because when you're in your thirties
I'll be in my prime
while you wont be able to drop a dime
for the shattered
dreams wasted
seams burned
hate overturned
only crushed dreams
left for you, never me

It’s amazing how one hospital trip can change the rest of your life. Or even lack of one even. He was four. I, three.  It was late, I had no idea why I was going to Bridget and John’s house. More importantly, I didn’t know why Zack wasn’t coming with me. 11 pm, I guess that’s pretty late for a three year old. I don’t think at that point I really had any grasp on what was actually happening. That nothing would ever be the same again. Half asleep, trudging to that sliding glass door I’d seen hundreds of times. I went into the house, the aroma of sweet cinnamon and love hung in the air.
      Burnt toast and peanut butter. That pretty much sums up an entire year of my life. Three years old, and for almost every weekend, which was too many, spent with Bridget and John, sleepless nights and peanut butter toast. There was: late night toast, midnight toast, way too early morning toast, morning toast, breakfast toast, too much toast. I think I was a picky three year old, then again, that isn’t exactly unheard of. I wasn’t very fond of peanut butter or toast, but I still ate it. I yearned for a sweet taste of normality. I craved something routine. Funny, because my life was everything but normal during that year. Funny, because I will never eat peanut butter toast ever, again.
     Many nights spent waiting for an answer. Wishing to go back, and hoping for everything to be okay. But as the car rolled out of the gravel driveway on that first night, so did an unmedicated future for my brother.

I was once asked to spell the word Depression
Now that was an interesting question to me because lets face it
Who does not know how to spell depression
It is three syllables
It is ten letters
It is just once word
Or at least that was the answer he was looking for.

I was once asked to spell the word Depression
I thought for a second and said
"Which way would you like me to spell it"
The teacher paused and looked at me quizzically
"What kind of question is that"
He chuckled

Like he thought I was dimwitted he repeated himself
"I would like you to spell the word Depression it is rather simple"

And now this is where I got to chuckle and say
"Sir, I believe what you are asking is a question I cannot answer, because to me Depression is not a three syllable, 10 letter word. Depression is when my sister comes home to a dead father, and Depression is when my best friend get diagnosed with Cancer. You see to me the Depression you are asking me to spell is the same Depression That gets you laughed out of a hospital. The same Depression that gets you a handful of 'cheer up's' and 'Get over it's.' and maybe even some 'Oh just be happy's' But last I checked when someone has Cancer, we do not tell them to "Just get better" or when someone is sitting in the ER with a cracked skull, we do not tell them to 'Just give it time, you're fine.'"

The boy sitting in front of you could not "just give it time"
When his mother died in his arms
And the girl that you pass through the halls could not "just be happy"
After she had true love ruined for her when some man did not Understand the word "No"
And your dad who calls every sunday cannot "cheer up" because the love of his life has died and his own son does not care to come see him on his birthday

So Sir when you ask me to spell Depression I ask which way because
I spell Depression D-E-A-T-H
and I spell Depression A-L-O-N-E
and I spell Depression S-I-C-K-N-E-S-S

So Sir I spell Depression S-U-F-F-E-R-I-N-G
And I define it as misunderstood for something in ones control/

So do not tell me it is simple to spell and do not tell me I am stupid when I ask in which way you are asking because to me
Depression isn't a simple
Three syllable
Ten letter word
That you use to define those who you do not care to know

I guess I've been uninspired
lately
I think it's time for a change
maybe
I think I know where this is going
faintly
I guess I've been uninspired
lately

I am 17 years old
but have to still ask to go to the bathroom
I am 17 years old
and expected to know what I want to do for the rest of my life
So tell me when this stops
When I am no longer held to a double standard
"Respect your elders
But hold yourself because you
are a role model
and not to be coddled
but could you pretty please put your hand up to go ***
and honestly
can't you see
that your future depends on our needs
I mean fail my test and see where your life leads"
Growing up *****
but so does being a kid
and lets face it I can't be at "home" forever
Mommy and Daddy
will no longer have me
and sadly
the real world is a cavity
for not only success stories
but failures especially
and out there is deathly
so don't tell me
That I'm too young to leave class
but old enough to try and decide my future
without a confidence booster
This situation lacking humor
if only I would have been told sooner
that there is no fine tuner
for the future

Children between the ages of six and ten
boys not even close to being men
And you, you call yourself a man?
A man of what, of cowardice
a man of strange
of deranged
thoughts
scared faces
reduced to
scarred hearts
unable to heal
being torn apart
All the pain is too real
The eighteen children too young to know
to go to the unknown
A place set for a person no longer here
Eighteen children you robbed of their lives
put their families through all the fear
For what reason
Children no older than fingers on their hands
no younger than the time on their stands
standing graves for eighteen children
who won't know anymore of a summer breeze
or getting down on one knee
to pledge the love
the same love you took
from families
and victims alike
Causing all the strife
So you call yourself a man
when you stood before
eighteen children
That you put on their death bed
along with yourself
who couldn't listen
to his own **** head.
36 parents who have to
identify their child
who no longer roams free and wild
all because you exiled
The innocence and life
out of eighteen
bight
children
Tell me, what right
did you have
to be given the title
of a *Man

America
Land of the free
Home of the brave
but don’t forget the clinically insane
because they’re here too
Making different people black and blue
especially the ones of a different race
What is freedom if it comes with a price
the price of too many lives
lives cut short by the bitter bite of a bullet
piercing through years
resulting in more fears
causing more tears
tears of families
and friends
watching their loved ones life come to an end
thats not even the worst
no justice is being served
to those who got the last word
words shooting from a gun
words denied in court
inequity for those whose lives were cut short
people like Renisha McBride
feel like they now have to hide
from people like Theodore Wafer
who refused to be safer
lack of understanding that Renisha was hurt
and she wanted help
but you ended her life with a yelp
as she knocked on your door
she had no idea she wouldn’t live anymore
gun to her face
you sent a message out to her race
that she went to seek help in the wrong place
telling those like her they don’t belong
in the human race
sadly is isn’t the only case
Jordan Davis
who was not even on a first name basis
with
Michael Dunn
shot nine times
even though he had committed any crimes
nine
times
Trayvon Martin
whose life ended
at the end of a gun
in the hands of the one
who took the “law” onto himself
obvious patterns show
this was no accident
although
he was
acquitted
and he got his gun back
permitted
information was not told
omitted
Zimmerman got refitted
and Martin shot dead
because something was off in someone else’s head
sent to his dead bed
the truth never said
Zimmerman fled
and how are those like him
suppose to move ahead
guns hiding in every direction
ailing like an infections
running from their own reflection
and I have an objection
because this is not the act of natural selection
and it’s sad people of different color still need specialized
protection
because apparently
pulling out a wallet
justifies being shot
41 times
not
but it does for the NYPD officers
and for a South American immigrant
Amadou Diallo (Jallo)
only 23
died callow
shot by four men
so shallow
4 guns
19 hits
41 shots
Bang
dead
----
How can this country preach
that we not only have freedom
but freedom of speech
but as soon as Bruce opened his mouth
and let the truth come out
and talked about
the truth behind
41 shots
he was “un-American”
he was a “flying ***”
it’s sad
we treat other human beings
as animals
and we claim to be equal
but there are people here who are still evil
and law officers who are deceitful
and last I checked ******
is illegal
and you are allowing upheaval
A mother should not be afraid to sent her son
out to get groceries in fear
that he may never come back
So don’t tell me
America
is equal

The window fogged over
No longer sober
I wish I could go back
and start all over

My eyes close shut
The silence remains uncut
I wish it was different
I guess it is
Somewhat

Standing in the door
Can't look in your eyes
With a heart too sore
Please I need you for more

A grave stands alone
Name, age and date shown
On my heals I turn
I leave your grave stone

72 years. Thats how long true love lasts. Well I like to think it lasts longer. I don’t know that for sure yet but I’d like to some day. Together since age fourteen and sixteen, I think thats pretty impressive. A different time. Which ***** because so much of ‘love’ nowadays revolves around lust. Which is more physical than emotional. So then I wonder how can they throw the word love around, whilst throwing themselves around. Oh the irony
Well I thought I loved someone once. Eight months, with probably triple that amount in fights. Though we fought it came easy to us. I guess thats more than I can say then the couples that were around us. But it was too hard. Hearing what he really thought about me. Not good enough. Too far away. Like I was so object only to be attained, to be shown off. Like a prize. Well I stopped being that object the same day he decided he didn’t love me
That’s what also ***** about this generation. There isn’t just a relationship or single there is: Talking, talking talking, flirt texting, couple dates talking, occasionally hook up talking, got drunk that one time at a party and now things are awkward talking. Then there’s: Having a thing, kind of together, pretty much together but not official, pretty much together but not Facebook official, together, and too many more.  
We can’t go two seconds with out Facebook stalking, texting, IMing, calling, or being together without fights, or assumptions about unfaithfulness. People are treated as objects and love it because someone, somewhere is paying attention to them and making them feel special. Generation X. Who can’t stop worrying about all their ex’s. More like generation disappointment.

The life has left her eyes
her body, has left its ties
no matter the cries
His life has ended
with the saddest demise
Floor stained red
thoughts rush to her head
The darkness spreads
Herself left
******

A pair of eyes can hold more than a thousand lies
some of the deepest darkest ties
these eyes can show skies
skies that hold secrets
little whisper winds
Of what makes up a face
a face of beautiful
a face of grace
a face that holds no regrets of what race
Racing lips
lips that can contain the words to be put on a page
lips that make a cage
a cage of rage
waiting to be unleashed from
the tongue like a stage
Still holds less than that of the Eyes
eyes like the darkest skies
eyes of a deep and haunting demise
A pair of eyes are the window to a soul
a soul blackened by change
a soul as darkened and deranged
as change
a body the greatest of all machines
It can endure heart break
it can recover recover from fake
it can give
it can take
But most of all it can make
This body
This mind
This soul
Made of many things
Most of them being
These secrets hiding behind
These
Green
Eyes

Hands
being washed of sins
Of all the places been
You can relax
and shed your skin
what's done is done
it's your life to begin

We are only human
only able to be who we are
slightly imperfect
as long as slightly means
a lot
and imperfect means
awesome
I've been spending a lot of my time thinking
and been doing my fair share of looking for inspiration
but not without some perspiration
I guess what I ended on
was being human
such a cliché
I know
but I think that there is something to be said about it
being human
interesting that everyone knows
knows how ****** people can be
and yet continue to act so petty
lies and deception
everyone assumes they are the exception
not comprehending their misconception    
giving everything but affection
hating - people
breaking souls
aching hearts
slivers of confidence being torn apart
all because they just prey -
on the weak
the ones to shy to stand up and be the hero they seek
living life just for the end of the week
Don't be that person
the one who makes a kids life worsen
all because you're too ******
to be your own man
to take a stand
and lend a hand
to the poor kid sitting alone
because no one
will ever know
what it's like to never have grown
grown up with nothing but your thoughts to come home to
when home is only their mind because they've never had a penny to their name
let alone a claim to fame
not even their family backing them up
so who are you to put them down
down lower than the ground
because one day
they will put themselves there
and it's all because you couldn't spare
small smile
instead swears thrown like knifes
stuck deep into the thoughts of their mind
thinking that know one would ever be so kind
as to show them that life is not a solo climb

Hypocrite
you lie
you tell me you're fine
Not this time
I see the fear
don't think I can't hear
the things you say behind closed doors
And I know you're fighting a war
but please understand
we're here to hold your hand
stop lying
no ones buying
I can't believe after all this you think no one cares
but all I know is I can't bare
the thought of loosing you
stop
we all know you can push through
don't think you're not strong
because clearly you belong
Lemme get this right
you can tell others to fight
through
but you can't even
believe in
yourself
Please
we all know you can
man
you still don't understand
how much life is worth
between death and birth
You say you have it bad
we know.
But some are cursed
with a life much worse
So chin up
blade down
change that frown
because there is never something
worth cutting
Hypocrite
you must admit
theres a lot more
worth smiling for.

I'm a rocker
I'm a talker
I'm a walk the walker

I'm a gamer
I'm a player
I'm a rule breaker

I'm a smile faker
I'm a mover and
I'm a shaker

I'm a questioner
I'm a challenger
I'm a game changer

I'm a grain of sand
I'm a past summer of tan
I'm a small helping hand

I'm a shower grammy winner
I'm a everyday sinner
I'm a life beginner

I'm a needer
I'm a pleader
I'm a leader

I'm a living room pj dancer
I'm a wiki search answer
I'm a hallway happy prancer

I am free
I am she
**I am me

What makes you a poet
is it for you to make something and say you wrote it
what defines you as a writer
is it showing you're a fighter
I don't think the definition of an artist
comes from being the smartest
I think it takes a lot to put words on a page
maybe not necessarily to be brought upon a stage
What makes you a genius
because it's not grades nor brains
but something that falls on a level of understanding
Something about ones mind expanding
I don't expect the world to suddenly change and get better
but I do hope to be accepted as a trend setter
and I don't mean cute clothes  
nice hair
or pricey looks
I mean some sort of trend that comes from the books
The idea of changing the world with your words
Well maybe not the world but just a few
to have an impact on even just one's view
whether you're a writer
artist or poet
make sure you use power in the words spoken

I don't write poetry anymore
I was lying on my bed lost in my thoughts and I realized I don't write poetry anymore
I used to write so much that my fingers would be sore
and that my words would almost become a bore
but now I don't write poetry anymore.

At some point in the last two years I stopped writing
blame life, blame time
blame the fact that maybe I forgot how to rhyme
Okay, I didn't forget how to rhyme but maybe I forgot to be passionate.
I don't write poetry anymore

Words and thoughts and ideas used to pop into my head
and I could not keep my fingers on the keyboard as they fled
fled from my head
fled to the page
whether fueled by passion or by rage
I had things to say and words I wanted heard
and now it seems so absurd
I have no ideas, no thoughts come to mind
I know poetry takes time
but
I don't have much time
things to do and people to see
the world seems to expect so much out of me
two years have passed and I almost forgot this task
task of passion and of heart
task I had fallen in love with from the start
words mean so much and I love to write
I guess that is why I am here tonight

I had this thought and it shook me to my core
this hobby I used to adore
time I used to feel I had a purpose for
but now my fingers have forgotten how to soar
my thoughts and ideas are poor
I guess that's why
I don't write poetry anymore

I miss
I miss the nights when things were different
I miss the nights when I asked what pokémon you caught
not what STD you got
I miss the fridays when we asked what you were doing
not, who you were *******
The nights when it was about us
and not them
the nights when we smiled
not cried
Why is it
why is it we want to grow up
instead of living
because before we know it
there wont be any time left to live
and we’ll be wishing to have it back
missing the nights when things we different
the nights when I didn’t have to worry about
losing you
the nights when you remember
what happened
the nights when
you didn’t have to ask others
what happened
when will it end
the nights when
you don’t come home
you don’t call for a ride
and you don’t come back.
because one day
people will be saying
boy I knew her when
when things were different
the nights when partying
meant cake and weird hats
not drugs and bad tat’s
all I’m trying to say is not
how to live your life
but to live your life
people say you only live once
thats true
but
you only die once
don’t make that once
because you were young
and stupid
remember
remember the days when
you could walk yourself to the car
the nights when drinking
meant juice
and higher
meant on a swing
and the only thing getting baked
were cookies.
Now
the twisted meanings
are your life
were your life
when the nights
were different.

my intelligence is not defined by a number, nor a letter.
nor should I be graded on a curve
by people
who don’t know me.
What does knowing the pythagorean theorem
have to do with me being a good person?
what will memorizing words on a page
help me with my rage
raging about how education has become
this conveyor belt
chewing up and spitting out
society’s warped up idea
of intelligence.
Throw me in a classroom with twenty-something students
just to tell me I’m better than him
but not as smart as her
teachers saturating our brains
with force fed textbook equations
telling us this is what we have to know to make it
“make it on time”, they say
“Passing it in late is not okay”
but when I am eventually thrown out
of this conveyor belt of education
the realization will be that life does not have
a set schedule.
my life will not change on time, as you ask
I cannot cram my creativity onto a five-paragraph
piece of paper.
I cannot crunch my knowledge
down onto six pages
about who I am
Don’t give me guidelines
my future does not have guidelines
you think you’re teaching us information
but in reality, you’re teaching us around the system
of how to get a passing grade
but not the exceeding knowledge
knowledge about what?
Our history?
what about our future?
We can’t learn about our future by staring at a blackboard
in a dim-lit room
with twenty-something other people
wondering what the hell we’re doing here
but being too scared to stand up
and ask.

Don't look me in the eyes are say you are hear to teach
***** please that's the last thing that you need to preach
I stand in a room listening to you speak of learning and education
Funny when they only thing I'm learning is how to ration
thoughts in my mind race like booming speakers
playing music so loud you feel it in your sneakers
I guess I'm not here to make much sense
but now is the time for the system to pay their rent
rental space in my mind
consuming time
thoughts that are no longer mine
Pressed into my brain this idea of education
running this **** like some federation
can't get thoughts in between regurgitated words and facts
Well I think my brain has hit the max
Maximum capacity for the ******* you're spewing
I will no longer be chewing
your lies and conformity
treating different learning like a deformity
No longer an idea of teaching
but memorization
words on a page
Here in this developmental stage
all because they are going through some 'phase'
that makes them stupid
Most of us are fluent
So don't tell me I'm not smart
because I don't know the periodic table by heart
because I'm not well versed in trail of the court
don't tell me I'm stupid
Just because I'm human
That's something that is overlooked
by the ones forcing you to study the books
Unable to see there is something to be said about knowledge of life
Or even the knowledge
not to get
pushed over the edge
Because sometimes enough is enough
And believe me
this "education" **** *****

I spent too much time wishing I would be someone I'm not
I wish I had smaller thighs
I wish I had prettier eyes
I wish I had cuter toes
I wish I had a better nose
I wish I had fuller lips
I wish I had smaller hips
I wish my stomach was flatter
I wish all this didn't matter
All this wishing
And compliment fishing
Does nothing to change my soul
I'm just trying to fill a hole
A hole created by this warped definition of beauty
But I'm unique
I'm no longer weak
No longer wanting to change
Something
all because
Someone
Somewhere
told me they swear
Unique
would
Never
Fall under this 'category' of beauty
But I am here to prove them wrong
And show that I am strong
And show I belong
And she
And we
All belong
in this 'category'
of  Beauty
no longer warped
no longer having to be worked
on
to be given the title
Of a *Beauty Queen

Hidden
Hidden in secrets
in lies
No longer having ties
to who I am
I wear a mask
A mask to change
Rearrange
Deranged
to be judged
reputation smudged
Covered in fake
my mask to make
No truth
Hidden, tucked away in a booth
Back of my head
wishing I was dead
So kind
They don’t mind
me
Before I can judge
I must be judged, right?
Well I will not be judged without a fight
I will use all my might
Who is society to tell her she’s not worth it
Him he’s not going to make it
and me I’m not a poet
but I will say what I want about my mask
Painted
Tainted
I have to make it
Make me
Fake me
The world can’t shake me
Maybe break me
No
because I have the key
the key to my destiny
The key
that comes with a fee
to take off my mask
and be me
be you
be he
be she
be we
We together
Stand together
Get together
And remove our mask of
hate
fate
lies
dead like flies
fake
remake
together
We are unique
No longer weak
Together we seek
The maskless faces
The faces like our own
Now its our turn
To watch our masks burn.

Dear black haired boy
I write to you to say
you used my heart like it was your toy
and I let you
just to call you My black haired boy
To be in your arms
away from the harm
Was all I wanted
but you taunted
my heart
Getting hurt from the start
But in the end just wanted to
be your brown hair girl
who made your world twirl
instead treated me like i meant nothing
made me feel like crumbling
You sent my life tumbling down
only able to show a frown
from your hateful crown
you fell
crushed by someone else
crawling back to your brown haired girl
who welcomed you with an open heart
which was still broken from the start
just waiting to be healed
at the hands of my black hair boy
even though my heart
was nothing but a toy
To said black hair boy
who never really gave me a choice
but to use my own voice.
Sincerely,
no longer your brown haired girl

I need to write a slam
what about
about people
about places
about money
about faces
I am a human being
not to be judged about my creativity
judged on my productivity
Not an object
I will not be contained by letters on a page
A page written by people who don’t know me
Claim they can show me
a picture is worth a thousand words
they say
Then what is a face worth
Starting at birth
we trap ourselves
limit ourselves to these words crammed together
letters
these small portrayals
to who I am
I stare
stare in a mirror
reflection getting clearer
clarification getting nearer
you’re pretty they say
then they turn around and you hear
‘she’s already classified’
classified as average
nothing special
You’re telling me
I am pretty
I am witty
A 5 letter portrayal
of a person
will not define me
will not make me
show me
who I am
I am not an object
not to be used as a pawn in the
circus we’ve happened to be spawned
into
The way i see it
there are few
few people to realized I am not contained by a page
nor a word
And I will stand up and be heard
I stand to say
Someday
fairness will come my way
When you will not be able to
confine a person in one word
nor a hundred
Someday you will ask yourself
Will I be okay
You will be okay at somethings
great at other things
But you will be outstanding at everything
Stop limiting yourself to a definition
only in words
define your self in actions
pick yourself apart in fractions
Change your life in transactions
and stop worrying about what your new definition is
I hear small voices begging to be defined
Tell me I’m pretty they say
pretty what
Pretty desperate
Pretty pathetic
Pretty separate
separate from those who choose to be content
being undefined
becoming redefined
staying behind
Hiding our plastered on definitions
Plastered to these facades
That become flawed
splitting apart at the seams
limiting your dreams
but brief descriptions
plated to our foreheads
So Pretty
Really Witty
What a Pity
Pity it is to let others define you
Your own self becoming blurred
These small molds called words
Taking you and forming you
into a conveyor belt barbie
The same as her
no different than she
But I will be me
I will be heard
I Will Never Be Defined
By Just Words

Work crushing  
Being pulled in the opposite direction
I hope I am dreaming.
Time slipping
Striving for something a little better than perfection
I need to be dreaming.
Water overtaking  
Craving for just a little affection
Air leaving
Please let me be dreaming.
My body and mind have lost connection
-
*Please let me be dreaming.

You’ll realize when its too late
how you wish you could change your fate
But now your death bed
is a set date.

Rockout like you scored the winning basket with 1 second left
Rockout like you remember all the secrets you've kept
Rockout like you have a house full of food and nothing but time
Rockout like you can make anything rhyme
Rockout like that cute boy just called you babe
Rockout like he first knew your name
Rockout like you have no shame
Rockout like all the **** you've ever done has passed all the blame
Rockout like you can fit into that one pair of jeans you've had forever
Rockout like all your comebacks to ******* are clever
Rockout like you have the best clothes in school
Rockout like you can break all the rules
Rockout like it's summer all year round
Rockout like you could break the ground
Rockout like you'll die trying
Rockout like you got asked to the biggest party around
Rockout like you said hell no and turned that invitation down
Rockout like rumors don't exist and all people can know about you is what you choose
Rockout like you made it on the 5pm news
Rockout like it was for being awesome
Rockout like you can jam on your axe like clapton
Rockout like your life can't become undone
Rockout like you're hair always falls into place
Rockout like you feel great without makeup caked on your face
Rockout like you did bring **** back
Rockout like you never slack
Rockout like you love someone a lot
Rockout like you and your family never fought
Rockout like you recall all that you've been taught
Rockout like you can say all your thoughts
**Rockout like it's all you got

A beautiful girl dressed in red
she can seem to get out of her own head
Beautiful eyes
met with the saddest demise
Red ribbon waving in the wind
in all the places she had been
A handsom boy dressed in blue
waiting to start anew
Broken heart
wanting to restart
Misses the girl in red
Holds her ribbon close to his heart
wanting to go back to the start

I’ve met 37 girls named Sarah. My name. Sarah. Five letters, nothing special. It’s not beautiful like Lena. Not creative like Anastasia. No one has any trouble pronouncing it. Which I guess isn’t all that bad. Until they go into that story about that one Sarah who gives my name a bitter taste in their mouth. Spiting out the two syllable, five letter word that defines me, like they know something about me. “Oh Sarah, I knew a Sarah once.” Please don’t say my name like that, don’t elongate that first a, cut sharp the sound of the r, only to drop the h at the end. Five letters said as if there are only four.

I am not an object
I am not a body
good for nothing
I am not a mannequin
defined by some different facade
to aid the next animal of a boy's
hunger
for what
lust
love
not the latter thats for sure
hungry for nothing but a good time
well excuse me when I don't jump to your call
on the drop of a dime
don't stand there and tell me I'm better than the rest
Or that this time's different
you haven't change
don't take me for deranged
I know how it works
tell me I'm something special
with your words
though your eyes scream
just adequate
Don't stand there and tell me I'm special
Somedays the hurt gets me
it attacks everyone at some point
right
well tonight it's got me
wrapped its arms tight
around my body
I can't take it anymore
I am more than a body
in fact
I have a soul
no
I am a soul
A soul
that comes at with the toll
of a body
An unflattering vessel to something
amazing

Enough
Enough death
Enough lies
Enough hurt
Enough cries
Loosing a battle we should have won
Enough is enough
This should be done
Enough tears
Enough fears
time to make it clear
that being put down through all the years
only makes you stronger
Stand taller
Show the world your life was meant for longer
Fight harder
Become strong
Show them they were wrong
Move along
Life going on
Life going strong
Life moving on

I want to make the world a better place
but
Poverty is a disease on its own
the prerequisite to depression
U
S
A
only trying to stay
stay rich
and sway
sway money in front of those who are just out of its reach
and then they preach
“If we give handouts they wont know how to work and they will wait for us to do everything for them. it’s not our fault they ****** up their life, theirs.”
it’s their fault
nineteen year old mother
cares for 3 week old baby
“cut loose” for missing two nights on the street corner because she couldn’t handle selling her body when
when years from now
her daughter will call her mommy
and her **** will call her sloppy
and she
will look scrawny
and now as she puts 3 week old baby to sleep in her
cardboard box crib
and think to herself
“this is my fault, I couldn’t find any other work. So I had to sell her mother to nothing more than an object.”
well now that cardboard crib kid is
eighteen
and fresh out of school
fresh on the streets
fresh flesh enmeshed
tangled in the rich mans net
starting the cycle over again because
at eighteen
on her own
she cant afford college
at eighteen
on her own
even if she has the knowledge
at eighteen
living in the streets
at eighteen
pregnant
--------
Mommy wasn’t there when she took teenage boy in the ally for the first time
taught it was okay because they needed money
and she knew no better way
baby had nothing to say
baby just needed the pay
now there is no way
she now is her mother
and baby is now inside her
and poverty has tied her
and the government denied her
mother never to guide her
and as she lied down her her bed all she could think of is
maybe if I wasn’t so poor
the government might care about me
-------
future baby
cradled in the mind of loving mother
regretful for choice of father
hoping
“maybe this will all go away
maybe if I pray
I wont live another day”
Poverty a disease on its own
the prerequisite to depression
because
U
S
A
is the only country who has the
power
freedom and ability to change the poverty rates and chooses
to only offer jobs to those who own a house
instead of those who need them
ignored by those who could help
because they are the ones who need it
poverty is a disease
and you better believe it runs in the family
poverty begets poverty
believe me
I’m not suggesting communism
but when a man can have a ninety dollar glass of wine
but that eighteen year old can’t even afford to buy something to eat
Change is needed
people getting cheated
don’t tell me there is freedom
when I see how the poor are treated
not eating
they are human
and we pass by and ignore them like animals
tangible
pass by graves
candles
people killed by a government disease
leaving parents absent
children abandoned
and don’t tell me
there is nothing we can do
because seeing men live in 100 million dollar mansions
when someone out there
eighteen years old
is left with no more chances
chances are this wont change anything
but to stand by
and allow people to die
is ******
and poverty
is genocide
we can’t hide
the inequality
or when given the affordable health care policy
call it comedy
honestly
its time for an apology
and to stop the hypocrisy
because poverty is commonly
in large quantities
and logically
poverty shouldn’t be an unborn child’s prophecy
just because their a impoverished mothers progeny
doesn’t mean their life couldn’t be quality
so pardon me
while I speak audibly
when I say the government has no monopoly
on poverty

It is time to revolutionize education
Because I am tired of memorization
Creation of nothing but the same
Desks behind desks
Staring at a black board
Bored of all the information
Citation after citation
And all for what
I’m tired of education
Because I don’t learn anything
Teachers preach
But no students learn
We try to earn the grade
But we only play
Play the game of school
This “learning” should be a tool
But instead were only being taught
How to memorize
To categorize
And to analyze
Words
Formulas
And answers
Never
Taught information
True helpful
Real world stuff
That is enjoyable
In the game of school the rules are simple
Stay quite unless spoken to
Sit down until forced to stand
Most importantly
Having an opinion is okay
As long as it matches the teachers
When we are born the first things we learn are to stand up and speak
As soon as education age hits us
We learn how to sit and shut up
To empty our individual cup
To listen and abide
To hide
hide opinions and stand aside
“because I am a teachers and this is education
and what I say goes
why
because I said so”
I’m tired of learning how to be normal
Because I want to learn how to be a bad ***
So why can’t I
And I don’t want a hundred for coloring in the lines
I want a zero for coloring everything but
Education is in groups
Smart
Average
And stupid
Not to be cruel
But its true
And believe me
You are judged on it too
But when looked at as individuals
-Something education discourages-
Everyone as smart
Because the only person you’re being compared to is yourself
That education
No any two snowflakes are the exact same
And no any two people learn the exact same
We have four different classes
English
Math
Science
And History
Four periods of sitting through plenty of worthless information
I wont listen to anyways so why force me into it
If I’m not interested
Why bother
Passion based learning is what we need
So I’m planting the seed
Seed of thought
In the minds of those who have power
Power to change education  
To a passion based formation
I will no longer allow educations dictation
To control me
It’s now time to see
What “Education” could really do for me
I guess I'm not here to make much sense
but now is the time for the system to pay their rent
rental space in my mind
consuming time
thoughts that are no longer mine
Pressed into my brain this idea of education
running this **** like some federation
can't get thoughts in between regurgitated words and facts
Well I think my brain has hit the max
Maximum capacity for the ******* you're spewing
I will no longer be chewing
your lies and conformity
treating different learning like a deformity
No longer an idea of teaching
but memorization
words on a page
Here in this developmental stage
all because they are going through some 'phase'
that makes them stupid
Most of us are fluent
So don't tell me I'm not smart
because I don't know the periodic table by heart
because I'm not well versed in trail of the court
don't tell me I'm stupid
Just because I'm human
That's something that is overlooked
by the ones forcing you to study the books
Unable to see there is something to be said about knowledge of life
Or even the knowledge
not to get
pushed over the edge
Because sometimes enough is enough
And believe me
this "education" **** *****

You take those pills
to numb the pain
you scare me half to death
while my life seems to be covered by a rain
a rain of tears
tears that will fall
when you don't wake up from
the oxy induced slumber
when your life seems to get duller
Your life should be fuller
Not even a year into high school
and your low on that fuel
fuel to make you stay here
with me near
because I can't be there for you
that makes you
choose those pills
so you can get over the hills
that you face
erase
that pain
one text
"I took more and I love you..."
Don't say that beautiful
life is worth more than that
I promise I'll show you that
please let me show you
the color of the trees
the smell of the leaves
its all worth it I swear
just to feel the wind in your hair
the sand beneath your toes
the frost nipping at your nose
The love of a friend
willing to do anything
to keep your life from the end