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Shania May 2018
I remember a dark and weary night, slowly losing sight—
A sense of lost—an absence, if you must.
Forevermore I slowly waste away—Sort of like rust.
As I slept the night away—A nightmare awaits me.

The darkness tonight is curious and awfully strange—
The starlight that lights the way—Guides the wise men astray.
No fear or hesitation stops the day.
forevermore, the fear overwhelms me—
Like a vicious stray dog ready to attack.

I slowly begin to fade away—Again!
Into a deep sleep or call it a somber.
I am dreaming—Of death and bombers.
Forevermore I awake—it's already another day.
Like it never happened— Again I wander.

The day is loud, and full wandering wonders—of a child.
Excitement throughout— the valley of death.
A war! Another fret? Another death! The children are dying!—Innocents.
Mothers are crying— for the death of the younger one—
Now nightmares are appearing.

BOOM! BANG!!—The loud bangs.
A deadly bang that rings throughout the land.
Awake— reality seeping through these veins—
As if they were chains digging in the fragile skin.
Fevermore—do only nightmares wander?

Those wandering wonders are dead.
Lead to the valley of death—Where the unsaid is said.
Nevermore shall there be wandering wonders.


~Shania
The atomic bomb, "Little Boy" dropped on Hiroshima, Japan's seventh largest city.
#supportyourlocolartist
Shania Apr 2018
Out my window—the leaves are bountiful like a song.
Here I catch myself singing along.
There and there they pull me in—A dance.
But here I am—Stuck In.

Out my window— I watch them fall.
The leaves are not happy—Not happy at all.
Why must you fall down?
—They fall and they fall.

Out my window—I see and I’ve seen it all.
Where have you been and what have you seen?
I ask myself this— something's amiss.
My place in this.

Out my window—I stare and I stare.
Is there nothing to this?—To this Staring.
I am so far, far away from home.
I miss being home. Feeling safe I guess.
I'll just write more poems.  Please tell me your input. I'd like to hear it.
Shania Apr 2018
Love is a flower that seems to have this sort of sour.
A sort of dull, but sweetness that lingers.
Here I am dancing with the singers.
You bloom as the music is in you.

Then you fall as the music turn to blues—Are you a moon?
Are you swayed by the night as it passes with the swiftness light?
As you spin around—Am I not the fool that is spinning in you?
Am I not—Am I not—Enough!

Love is a flower that grows and grows.
It grows so much it hurts.
It hurts so much—It’s love! Is love supposed to hurt?

Your rosey vine with many sharp thorns—
I must be careful of those who are torn—
They sway and they sway— I  will not be swayed away.
I will not—And I will not—love like a flower.
Please like and supoort your local artiste!
Shania Apr 2018
A dream is the night creeping on little cat feet.
Slipping away into the shadows.
Preying on the broken-winged bird attempting to fly away.
Waking up from a deep sleep only to be caught again.

~Shania
Shania May 2017
The core of your self
Was not at all absent, you weren’t lost but bewildered
To give up all of the pretending and just become.

- The core of your self
Stand your ground and come home
You don't have to find your self, you just have to exist.

- The core of your self
Belonging or not belonging
it's one’s true self to live

- The core of yourself
You don't have to find yourself.
You just have to let yourself in.
Let yourself be whole.
April 7, 2016
Shania Apr 2017
Who
I think I'm just a dime in a dollar world.
Feeling confused about my own action.

I'm susceptible to kindness and vulnerable to temptation.
Sympathetic toward those who are unfortunate than me

Getting hurt by criticism.
feeling childish for being lighthearted
Going through  an intense sentiment of confusion of who I am
Personal feeling toward me maybe? Maybe towards someone else?
I don't how to feel about this thought but i'm hurt.
#controversial #cultures #feelingEXTREMELSADDNESS
Shania Apr 2017
The wind is so gentle, but yeht so cruel.
Her cry can be poked through your logic.
Her mind is adrift.
Feeling empty, she breathes in and breathes out.
Susceptible to his contention and getting hurt by his cloud.
Her insecurities destroy her and making her silent.
#beautifulwords #feelings #sad
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