You miss a meal,
Then it turns to two,
A day passes,
And no one notices you.

Craving nutrition,
There goes a week,
Those many hours,
Longing for something to eat.

Using the same excuse,
"I'm not hungry, I just ate,"
The numbers keep dropping,
Was sixty-three, now fifty-eight.

You can't go back,
People are noticing you,
They say you should eat, and you say,
"You have something better to do."

It's harder than you think,
Just leave me alone!
Stop telling me to eat and drink!
If I need you, I can find my phone.

Her eyes stand out,
On a canvas full of ink,
The contrast between them,
"Nothing better," I think.

Her eyes reflect her heart,
And the liveliness of her soul.
She's like a problem, needing an answer,
And her eyes are the main goal.

The trees stand before me,
Like a crowd of men,
A jury of wooden minds,
Facing me again.

Unknowing of the consequences,
Of my actions’ reply,
These trees are the gates,
To the forest’s eye.

A whole journey ahead,
And I shall trek on,
I shall take the chance,
Before it is gone.

Take that chance,
Take that risk,
Just believe me,
It shan’t be brisk.

Happy Valenitne's day,
Hope you have a good one,
Because I'm here to say,
Don't got a date? Just run.

Sit on the couch,
Binge some Netflix,
Get the food in the pouch,
It's a simple fix.

That's what I'm gonna do,
As the guy I like, doesn't back,
But, good luck to you,
With your lovely Valentine's hack.

No matter what religion,
Or what race,
Or what name,
Or what face.

Through all the torture,
Through all the hate,
In the end we all,
Meet the same fate.

Today is another day,
It won't be like yesterday,
It will be good,
Like any day should.

Better, it will be,
Just you wait and see,
My day will be great,
The sun won't be late.

The moon won't come,
We'll be surrounded by sun,
We'll be doused in light,
Forgetting the night.

Today will be fun,
I won't have to run,
It will be the best,
Like every day suggests.

It won't be bad,
I won't be sad,
I promise you,
The sky will be blue.

...

...

...

No... It can't be,
I know what I'll see,
It will be a bad day,
It'll be like yesterday.

[New Message]
It reads,
Great, more trouble,
All I need.

Opening the inbox,
What could it really be?
Please not another,
"PARIS, a sight to see!"

I have had enough of spam,
So, please be some news,
And not a "favourite show" quiz,
I'm not obliged to choose.

A message from my boss?
No, he's already out of town,
A notice from the tailor?
No, she can't've done the gown.

Well, what is it?
Why won't it load?
Is it a virus?
Or some kind of code?

Well, I give up,
That is it,
I'll check it later,
For now, I quit.

A word can have,
Such interpretation,
And the word sinking,
Exceeds expectation.

It can be joyful,
Sinking into love,
Or sinking into sadness,
And sinking from above.

Sinking can be a ship,
With memories aboard,
But when this ship sinks,
They're forgotten and ignored.

Sinking can be anger,
Or sinking with fear,
Hiding away,
From those we hold dear.

Sinking, what a word,
But I can't help and think,
What if I'm waiting,
And am destined to sink?

“Alice, Alice,
Where are you?”
I’m dizzy, I’m dizzy,
Stuck in a cloud of blue.

My vision is blurred,
My mind is scattered,
Where’s the White Rabbit?
Where’s the Mad Hatter?

The Queen of Hearts,
Should’ve yelled by now,
“Chop off her head!”
Or make me bow.

I’m so confused,
And lost in this land,
Where is my dream?
Where is Wonderland?

Where is Twiddle-Dee?
Where is Twiddle-Dum?
Where’s the Blue Catterpillar,
Getting drunk on ***?

The Cheshire Cat,
Must appear soon,
I can’t be left alone,
This can’t be my doom.

I can’t feel my feet,
I can’t feel my hands,
I don’t know where I am,
Where is Wonderland?

You know, every time they ask me
What are your life goals?
What are your ambitions?

I answer;

I'm not sure yet.

They ask me if I'm happy
If I know what I'm doing with my life

I answer;

I'm not sure yet.

They ask me if I've made up my mind
If I decided what shirt I'm going to wear
If I know what my lunch will be tomorrow

I answer;

I'm not sure yet.

See, I'm not sure of much right now.
And I don't want to be.

But I do know that I want to spend my time with you.

I want to see you achieve your goals
I want to cheer on your ambitions

I want to make you laugh and smile
With the cheesiest of jokes and impressions

I want to see you on a Sunday morning
Sitting silently on a sunlit seat
Singing to yourself in my oversized purple jumper

I want to dance with you in the kitchen
While the moonlight dances along with us
Spinning to our own tune

When it comes to life, I'm not sure yet.

But one thing I am sure of... is you.

The metal hanging from my wrists,
And the steel clutching my ankles,
The chains weighing me down.

The chains not allowing me to move,
Or eat, or drink, or breathe,
The chains that stop me,
In my tracks,
Simply to listen,
To give in.

The chains of depression,
Dragging me into the depths,
The darkness that lays below,
These chains are the problem.

Will I ever escape them?
Will I ever find a way out?
Will I ever be free?
Was I ever free?
How am I supposed to know?

The chains that cling onto my limbs,
Are the chains we all dread,
We all despise,
We all don't want in our lives.

But hey, I was lucky enough to get them.

I met a girl,
When I was three,
My best friend,
She was soon to be.

We met by a pool,
She was older than I,
We were inseparable,
I can't lie.

But few years ago,
She moved away,
Across the globe,
She couldn't stay.

I still love her,
She's still my best friend,
And no way on Earth,
Is this close to the end.

People tell me everything and I say nothing.


Late night talks filled with secrets and
  bittersweet  sorrow.

The stars tell me their stories,
and I tell them    nothing     of it.

The moon whispers
   words of
       worried
           regret,
never once asking mine.

I hear the sky’s gossip and thoughts of
    wilful      sadness,
and the wind chimes in with the
    sound     of      anguish.


But I am okay.


      This is the façade I’ve grown into.


Sometimes I wish for an ear,
          to listen to what I hear,
     to keep what I want kept,
  to no longer be the Keeper.


But I am okay.

War is a play,
A theatrical piece,
Readying the cast,
Before decease.

Props in hand,
Mics linked up,
To calm yourself,
Drink from death's cup.

A play for onlookers,
To watch and stare,
Ready before,
The speakers blare.

Before the crowds,
We are attacked,
A play repeated,
To reenact.

Wind through my hair,
Like water through a drain,
Running through life,
Running through the pain.

I dream of a home,
I dream of a place,
A place of comfort,
A place of grace.

A safe haven,
One to share,
One I dream,
Is our secret lair.

I dream that we,
Can cut the sky,
To reveal a galaxy,
For you and I.

I dream that birds,
Lilt in the air,
When we surrender,
To our secret lair.

The white flag is raised,
But instead is a dove,
A token of surrender,
A token of love.

I dream for a happy place,
A place to call my own,
I dream of a place for us,
A place we can call home.

Algebra, how wonderful,
Calculus, even greater,
Do you want the cons,
Now or later?

Well, I can't say I don't enjoy it,
Mathematics is interesting enough,
But it can get a tad confusing,
And pretty freaking tough.

I'm currently in math class,
How funny is that?
Yeah, not much,
But we can't exactly chat.

We can't talk, I finished the task,
So now, what do I do?
Write a poem of course,
With equations like, 73+2.

I tried my best,
A poem in class,
I hope you enjoyed,
But it doesn't mean I'll pass.

"Living the same year,
Seventy-five times,
And calling it life,
Is the greatest of crimes."

A paraphrased saying,
Of Robin S. Sharma,
Reliving a bad day,
And calling it karma.

Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
Stuck on one word,
Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
It begins to seem blurred.

Repeat; Repeat; Repeat,
No longer sounding of dialect,
Repeat has become faint,
The word has lost its effect.

It seems to be the meaning,
That the word has lost,
No longer sounding real,
This seems to be the cost.

The cost of repeating,
The same over and over,
Yearning for some luck,
A lucky four-leaf clover.

Nothing seems to help,
Stuck in this trance,
No escape is found,
That was my last chance.

I walk the halls,
Watching her flowing hair,
Golden in the perfect lighting,
Her hips moving from side to side,
Like Newton's cradle,
Left,
Right,
Left,
Right.

I envy her perfectly highlighted face,
And her winged liner,
That's as sharp as her heels,
Clicking along the wooden boards,
Hypnotizing everyone and anyone,
Including me.

Me,
The girl that walks alone,
To and from class,
The girl that wears tattered jeans,
And stained shirts,
The girl that drops her books,
And gets bullied on countless occasions,
The girl that wishes that she was just like her,
Just like this girl that walks the halls.

Why am I not good enough?
And I'm not talking about others' opinions,
I'm talking about my own,
My self-image,
My self-worth,
My self-confidence,
Why am I not good enough?

Little do I know,
As I walk the halls,
That this girl,
This perfect image of a woman,
Doesn't want to be that way anymore,
While I would **** for that,
She would simply throw it away,
If it were that easy.

The popularity,
The attention,
The friends,
She'd be rid of it in a heartbeat,
If it were up to her.

But I still believe that I'm not good enough,
That I need a face of makeup,
Heels that are too tall to balance on,
An outfit to make me comfortable with my body,
Just to make me feel like I'm worth something,
Like I really am good enough.

So, I watch this girl,
And I envy her,
And she envies me,
As we walk the halls.

The river rises,
Raising its sizes,
Swallowing us whole,
The land is its coal.

Its fuel is our fear,
When the river comes near,
We get into gear,
And we won't stay here.

We fear the river,
As it sends a shiver,
Down our spines,
As we get into lines.

We're ready to march,
Hoping it'll parch,
Readying the team,
To go upstream.

We walk with our fright,
In the dead of night
We reach the site,
And extinguish the light.

And with all our might,
We give it a smite,
And know that with pride,
Tonight, we stride.

We fight the river,
Ignoring the shiver,
Hope is a sliver,
But we won't be chopped liver.

I waited patiently,
On the park bench,
He was ten minutes late,
The minutes ticked by.

Twenty,
Thirty,
Forty,
He wasn't coming.

But I still waited,
With hope.

He never came,
I'm still waiting.

Flanders Fields,
Where dead men lie,
And mothers mourn,
And children cry.

Flanders Fields,
Where living men sigh,
Reading mates' names,
Their friend, an ally.

Flanders Fields,
Where land is dry,
In mid-summer,
Of early July.

Flanders Fields,
Where children spry,
Asking themselves,
They were gone, why?

Flanders Fields,
Where dead men lie,
And mothers mourn,
And children cry.

Is it because,
You don't have anyone to talk to?
Or because you want to spread emotions,
Like when you're feeling blue?

Is it because you're sad,
And need someone to hear you vent?
So you sit alone and write,
Then wonder where the time went?

Is it because,
You don't have a life of your own?
So writing for others,
Is like a second home?

Is it because,
Painting isn't enough?
Because there aren't enough colours,
To show how life is tough?

Is it because,
You're needing a friend?
To tell them how your patience,
Is nearing its end?

Is it because,
You're seeking attention?
You want someone to notice you,
Like it's life's redemption?

Is it because,
Every word you write,
Is like the first star,
In a starless night?

Is it because,
When you get out of bed,
You say it'll be a bad day,
And it isn't just in your head?

Is it because,
Writing for others,
Is a coping mechanism,
Hiding from fathers and mothers?

Is it because,
When you read it out loud,
Microphone in hand,
You hear claps of a small crowd?

Is it because,
That tiny crowd you make up,
Is just imagination,
Telling you to wake up?

Or is it because,
All of these things combined,
Creates the monster which is you,
The you, you can't find.

People ask me why I smile
Why I stick right through it all
Why I walk another mile
Instead of slowing to a crawl

I look up to them and smile
A soft billow in the day
I whisper after a small while
“Because I don’t have much to say.”

They look down and smile too
And I know they understand
They know what I always knew
Why I smile secondhand.

So we go our separate ways
I wander and wait, versatile
For another soul to cross my days
To ask me why I smile.

I will live forever,
And not just in spirit,
In mind, body, and soul,
Death, I do not fear it.

Immortal, I am,
And will forever be,
For I don't fear The End,
The End fears me.

Hate me,
All you like,
I'll laugh,
At your strike.

Hate me,
And you'll see,
That nothing good,
Comes of hating me.

Do it,
I dare you,
You wouldn't,
If you had a clue.

Hate me,
Just hate me,
Because I see,
I see the glee.

The same gender,
Holding hands,
Is not a painting,
Don't stare at it.

A person who wants to be,
The opposite of what they are,
Is not a vegetable,
Don't spit at it.

A person who loves,
And accepts all,
Is not a helpless kid,
Don't bully it.

These are people,
And their feelings,
Are like plates made of China.
Don't break it.

Cutting its victims,
With a sharp blade,
A predator, a king,
Of this masquerade.

This almighty authority,
Ruling over all,
And his almighty phrase,
You all shall fall.

He seems so innocent,
So pure at heart,
But then he'll get close,
And tear that paper apart.

Fire! Fire!
They all scream,
It's past the forest,
It's over the stream.

Run! Run!
They all cower,
Letting in the flame,
Giving it the power.

Hide! Hide!
They all duck,
Losing all faith,
When reality struck.

Help! Help!
They all shout,
Throwing up their arms,
Flailing about.

Stop! Stop!
They all plead,
They want to be safe,
They want to be freed.

Yes! Yes!
They all yell,
As the fire recedes,
Without deaths’ bell.

Gone! Gone!
They all chant,
As they circle the camp,
And their wish was grant.

Another love poem,
All the roses,
And the 'I love you's,
The 'I wish you were mine's,
And the sweet messages behind.

Another love poem,
With you as the sun,
To my cloudy sky,
With you as the life,
To my lifeless body.

Another love poem,
All the foolishness,
Of letting you go,
And all the hoping,
That you haven't forgotten.

Another love poem,
Why did you leave me,
Why did you choose her over me,
Was I destined for loneliness,
Or is it just my luck?

Another love poem,
With you as the dove,
Leaving my cage of a heart,
With you as the water,
Running away from my stream.

Another love poem,
And I can't promise you,
It's going to be the last one,
Because it's not.

Because love is so wide,
And so complicated,
That one poem doesn't cut it,
Ten poems don't cut it,
It's continuous.

Another love poem,
That's really,
All we need.

Picturesque life
I can see it unfold
It will no longer be
A story untold

Everyday is precious
With you by my side
You're my light in the dark
When our worlds collide

Now, it won't be easy
But I won't sit and ramble
Because this life of ours
Is just one big gamble

I know we'll make it through
Despite all the trials
Because for you I would walk
Five hundred miles

Song lyrics are great and all
But what I say is true
I can't wait for our story
To begin, just me and you

Sometimes I wonder if it's me you care about
Or my looks
My hair
My body
My waist
My chest
My eyes

You know not of my mind
Not of my talent
Not of my life
And not of my heart

So tell me
Sir
Why you think you own it

It's always

****
Cute
Gorgeous
Beautiful
Pretty
Adorable

And never

Sweet
Loving
Generous
Wise
Caring
Intelligent

It's always

What's your bra size?
What are you wearing?
Are you *****?

And never

What are your interests?
Tell me about yourself?
Who is your role model?

It's always
The trap I fall into

And never
The arms that welcome me

I hide, you seek,
Up to ten, but count slow,
Promise not to peek,
Ready, set, go.

Stained of red,
Blood of them,
Secrets,
Lay upon their stem.

Stained of red,
Lost souls roam,
Some merciless hearts,
Made of stone.

Stained of red,
A leaf is grown,
Though there is no way,
To take back what as shown.

Stained of red,
A protection, a shield,
They hide what was done,
Something one man could not wield.

Stained of red,
In the fields they cover,
Men all lay,
A son, uncle and brother.

Stained of red,
They hide the war,
They now bring peace,
They are the core.

Stained of red,
These poppies stand,
In Flanders fields,
Hand in hand.

The time has come again,
Of commemoration,
To the men who fought,
At their final destination.

Years and years ago,
Let out, was a vast strife,
And among that war,
A man who lost his life.

Remembering those soldiers,
Lines and lines of men,
Who dreamt of protecting,
Since they were merely ten.

They fell while serving,
But their dreams were met,
And on this solemn day,
We say, “Lest We Forget.”

Christmas is near,
Summer is here,
Mozzies we fear,
Presents appear.

Bring out the thongs,
And barbecue tongs,
Where Santa belongs,
With our Chrissy songs.

Bondi is packed,
Beer bottles cracked,
Pressies are now packed,
Those, Santa has sacked.

But Australia is burning,
Our stomachs are churning,
A lot we aren't learning,
From how this year's turning.

This is our New Year,
We may shed a tear,
As we live in fear,
As Christmas comes near.

My sister is not my sister,
but a stranger of same skin.

It seems that our relation
is all but running thin.



My brother is not my brother,
but a man of unalike mind.

And his warmth and embrace
are things I cannot find.



I do not know the people
society claims are close.

The people society claims
are meant to know me most.



I wish I knew these people
but it cannot be true.

Because, siblings, my life
must be done without you.

When I look down,
I'm not who I want to be,
I stand in the mirror,
And it's not me I see.

I want to be beautiful,
I want to be slimmer,
I want to be comfortable,
I want to be thinner,

I'm not perfect,
But I'm gradually healing,
It will take a while,
Because it's a new feeling.

I'll be in it,
Until the end,
And when I get there,
No longer will I pretend.

I will be okay,
I will be fine,
And my body,
Will finally be mine.

I recently had a conversation,
With a friend of mine,
And I’m not sure how it started,
But it led to a conversation,
About what life would be like,
If we were all the same.

There’d be no creativity,
Imagination,
Difference,
We’d be clones,
Still living in primate times.

But if you think about it,
It’s kind of what communism is,
A society where everyone is equal,
Where everyone is the same.

Imagine living like that,
Like you aren’t special,
When in reality,
You are.

You are unique,
You are different,
You are you,
And never stop.

I talk to myself,
Consistently I might add,
And I dunno about you,
But I’m the best friend I’ve ever had.

My conversations are good fun,
The best I’ve had all day,
And I know I’ll always be there,
When I have something to say.

I talk about my feelings,
And my thoughts out loud,
I’ll talk to myself in private,
Or even in a crowd.

I don’t know what it means,
If I’m lone or depressed,
If you have any idea,
Come and be my guest.

To all the people that talk to themselves,
I think it’s perfectly fine,
You can be your own best friend,
And I can be mine.

The joy of the bloom,
Hope it won't be over soon,
Fear of the past gloom.

I hate her.
She is the bane of my existence.
She is everything wrong with the world.
She is the worst thing to grace the face of the earth.

One may think they are free from her grasp but she wraps her bony fingers around your neck as you beg for air.
You walk aimlessly in a labyrinth and she is a dead end at every exit.

She is what makes me tick, what makes me scowl, what makes me hate the world.
She reeks of hatred and smugness, she thinks she knows better but she is truly misguided.
She misguides me.
I am stuck in her labyrinth.
She tells me to go right but regardless of the path I take, I end up in the palm of her hand.

Her whispers haunt me.
Her laughs torment me.
Her thoughts become mine.

The purest of intentions turn to vile green sludge.
The kindest of hearts become the most doubting.
The loveliest of engagements shatter to pieces before her.

Jealousy.
I hate her.

Red,
Loving, sweet,
Blood,
Dead and beat.

Yellow,
Warm, gentle,
Police tape,
Accidental.

Green,
Nature, growth,
Cannabis,
Under oath.

Blue,
Loyal, calm,
Pills,
Rest in my palm.

White,
Peaceful, pure,
Moribund,
No known cure.

I make my mother cry,
More than I make her smile,
Take a step but go back five,
When I try to walk a mile.

Playing a trick,
On a good friend,
Can never signify,
The relationship end.

A funny little gag,
The ol' switcharoo,
Left us waiting, watching,
Nothing else to do.

A little misplacement,
For our own laughter,
Waiting in anticipation,
With what might happen after.

A bad detective he'd be,
Seemingly blind,
Our friend struggles,
His hat, he won't find.

A good friend indeed,
But I wonder what'll go down,
With our hats replaced,
Will he laugh or frown?

my life feels like a movie
  with you as the main character

i want to see the end credits roll
    just so this is the moment
         that the audience

   r e m e m b e r s .

Friendly, pleasant,
Easy to like,
Taking your stance,
Ready to strike.

Regardless of your antics,
I am not intrigued,
For I am not a simple man,
And I'm rather fatigued.

I don't understand,
Why you take your aim,
And fire for me,
I'm not the same.

Not like you,
Or up to standard,
Where you heard this,
Surely, it's slandered.

I'm not likeable,
So why you shoot for me,
Is unbeknownst by myself,
It's very hard to see.

You and I are different,
You, defined by popularity,
Then me, defined by smarts,
And my mundane ability.

You are you,
You're likeable,
This isn't the 1100s,
This isn't a round table.