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Feb 2016 · 1.0k
A sound good bye
Grace Pickard Feb 2016
White snow covers the brittle branches
Of the sage brush beside them
The birds song of the Nevadan January is gone-
Not even the brisk wind moves this scene

Her car pushes through the stillness
Then the clicking of her engine stops.
Silence speaks again

Through clouded windows she hears him shouting phrases unknown
Then his stumbled pacing sounds nearer and nearer
He stops at the sight of her

Still sitting in the drivers seat she looks forward aimlessly
With a tug at the door handle she follows him into the road

He's looking at her eyes turn into faucets
longing for her to say something to break the silence
She's staring at the emptiness surrounding him

They almost meet eachothers gaze,
He tries to pull her in, she refuses
Then as the silence floods between them
She rushes into him

The brittle branches are nourished
By the tears that violently crash down
Grasping on to him,
She wills to always be held by him
And then he pulls her off

She tries to speak, but feathers fill her throat
Their eyes meet and search rapidly for secrets
His pupils swallow her face
With the shadow of the sun behind her,
she sees herself within his gaze
He asks her "What do you see"
And she looks into the car window beside her and croaks " Me. I'm Pathetic"
His reflection scrunches his eyes and brings his hand up to his ear
He begins to disappear

The silence surrounds them once more
And she turns around and looks into his eyes one last time
And sees two tears racing to the ground
Feb 2016 · 879
Airless breath
Grace Pickard Feb 2016
Your deep oceanic eyes dilate
Leaning forward to get that first kiss
He lingers, but you don't wait
Something he'll fondly reminisce

Fingertips trailing his collar
Your hands trace whats unknown
Just as the world becomes much smaller
He pulls you close and let's out a moan

Through his deep gazes you giggle
Your flurrying lungs won't rest-
You can't breathe it's simple
This happiness involuntarily expressed

The smiles never seem to abate
The moments together are pure bliss
The sudden unfounded belief in fate-
Begins from looking straight into the abyss

He makes you tremble and shiver
As he laughs avalanches into you
You begin to feel like a river
You're swept off your feet without clue

And then you panic
You start to realize
You're falling quickly
And he won't be there
To catch you
In between kisses
and laughter
You tease him
"Show me your *******"
And then your tone changes
And you say
The forbidden words
And you can't take them back
So your eyes begin to well up
And form into pools, into ponds, into lakes, into oceans
And you're drowning
In your emotions

The sweetness once upon your teeth
Disappears from his soft touch
He seeks you for his own relief
You're both eachothers crutch

Weeks pass and your oceanic eyes
Constrict in the mirror
With bloodshot moons
And panic attacks
You can't breathe
it's simple like that
I didn't want to write about him I wanted to be able to move on within ut working through it. But I can't breathe. And I need to find my breath again.
Feb 2016 · 789
Mason jar petals
Grace Pickard Feb 2016
Persian pink slumping petals on sturdy green stems
Brought a smile to her face
In return you received her grace
But like her heart
Upon their final days,
cut into pieces
lid ******* on tight
glass walls limit sight
The air is fleeting


Slowly they suffocate away
Feb 2016 · 433
Break my bonds
Grace Pickard Feb 2016
There is a certain agony in falling towards loving you
Once there was suprise and aw and now I'm standing here confused
I miss the days you'd give me flowers
Or rub nose to nose
I miss when I was all you wanted
Yet now I'm here alone
You said you need space
You said you think this isn't the end
You said I'm here to stay
But who's to speak for me?
Where is my own dignity?
Grace Pickard Nov 2015
Which part of me would choose?
For it is cold in my mind and warm in my heart
If only I knew what goes on within your mind
So perfectly flawed

I could crawl into your brain...
The simple masterpiece of all I've seen-
" pure beauty" is a mere insult to the magnitude of its indescribable wonder

Peering through the amygdala
I'll see your past in awe-
At how it's brought you here,
A creature so wonderfully subtle with tongue
And bold in nature:
Sui generis.

I'd love to journey through the thoughts of you
Through and through I'd wander
And wander always turns to wonder



To be electrified by your synapses
And burnt into oblivion-
A million pieces of me
Becoming blended within
Something wholly powerful
Is but a dream
Locked behind
The gazing brown puddles
Reflecting the moonbeam
Nov 2015 · 1.5k
Dearest stranger,
Grace Pickard Nov 2015
I secretly despise you
For your forced rejection of status quo
Your fascination with death and crows
Even though it's clear death frightens you
Your incessant opinion that you're a virtuoso
So loud, the ear begs to be free, says Van Goh
Yet, you act and strut around without a clue

I secretly hate you
For you disregard tomorrow
Focusing solely on your ego

I secretly envy you
Because at least you're good
At playing this game
Nov 2015 · 384
Sleep
Grace Pickard Nov 2015
It's when you lie down
stare into the darkness
and only see the shadows
That you know you've seen the light
Grace Pickard Sep 2015
No
You say "you don't know her
She's brilliant
she's understanding
She's the best person I've ever met
she's my hopes
my dreams
(gone)"
A fantastic character

I hate to always be the bearer of truth,
But, I've read her cover to cover
She's shallow and superficial
She puts up a facade of a unique individual and yet she's just within the boundary of normalcy.

I've examined all of her (superfluous) pages of work
And they only skim the surface of humanities skin
Circling around the moles and scars that pucker truth-
Brail for the the blind

I've dug deep within her words and read between each space bar
And there lies no feeling- no emotion...
Sheer unintended apathy

Still-With many attempts:
She doesn't capture the essence of regret or sorrow
She merely spits at its feet
And it shows
Because the pain she displays vanishes
From her readers
From the pages
From the words
From the letters
From the simple spaces
From the idea itself

And yet this somehow captivates you
Yet unbeknownst to you- you are not regret, nor are you sorrow,
You are simply embodying what she barely grasps in hopes to find what lies beneath for yourself

But you're burrowing into someone who hasn't yet lived or loved-
Who can't describe the burning bubbles that pop in your eyes from the tears of contempt
Who can't fathom deflation of breath in your shallowing lungs, nor the dam constricting your veins' blood at loss

She can't break down completely with you dangling along
So
She
Keeps you just within reach to describe something she encounters
Something she caused
Something she can never embody  because  her "emotions" are a half lie:A secure defense
For power over others
Jumbly mumbly not humbly
May 2015 · 949
Untitled
Grace Pickard May 2015
******* in the life surrounding me through a coffee stirrer
Gulp
Gulp
Gulping up what I can whilst I drift away
i am drowning in my own lungs
Pay attention to my heart beat
Cadum
Cadum
Conundrum- no sleep
I panic
i must be having a heart attack
Close eyes open eyes close eyes
Blink
Blink
Blink I can't sleep
Heavy bags
Heavy mind
****** nose
Headache
Get out of bed
All awake

Lights on
Bzzzz
Bzzz flicker flicker
Lights off

Dog scratch
No time to relax
Awake open gate
Wait
Wait
Wait
Curl up in corner doze off
Dog bark
Sister coughed
Wide eyed
Anxious cries
Door opened
Worry for my life
Grab my mace
Dog runs inside
Lock the door
Crawl on the floor
Lights on
Remain awake
Skim finger tips
Ponder life
Freak out
Pass out
Apr 2015 · 1.3k
Dao w a g a
Grace Pickard Apr 2015
Enveloped with pine-
Stretched across statelines:
Beauteous blue upon envious emerald
Pooled amongst royal white mountains
Adorned with grey jewels of centuries
Emitting sweet, earthy aroma
She caresses the land.
Mother to lakes hidden by her red fir,
Provider to the fiery yellow cress
Hydrant for all animals alike.
M(ama) Rose keeps a chary eye
on her joint creation:
The provider, the mother,
The revered, grandiose puddle
is threatened by scarcity.
The royal white mountains,
Remain royal- but lack frost,
And thus the water retreats
Shriveling back 13 feet from shoreline
This once sacrosanct lake---
Devastated.


Keep Tahoe Blue?
Keep Tahoe Wet.
Climate change is not a myth. Sacred places are being destroyed and diminished. All of earth is divine. The world needs everybody's help to counter the suffering, don't lose hope and keep action.
Mar 2015 · 826
Plug in your brain
Grace Pickard Mar 2015
Longing for convulsions and cacophony
The brain desires outlet-
Outlet for the hopelessness of mortality
Against knowledge of disappearance amongst you
And the ultimate disappearancs of one self
Which keeps you voiceless- a prisoner to your dying flesh
Without an outlet for the hopelessness of mortality
And thus hopelessness of mortality becomes an outlet of the captivated mind
mt great grandmother recently died and now I feel surrounded by so many of my deceased relatives and friends that it scares me of my own mortality and also of the loss of my individuality.
Mar 2015 · 5.8k
Bloody Nose Rejection
Grace Pickard Mar 2015
As my mind goes crazy
My clock beats faster
And the dam protruding from my face can't hold back the Red Sea any longer.
Everything that was once pure becomes stained
Stained with my sorrow
Stained with my love stations ooze

And in the midst of all of this insanity I start to question whether my body even wants to feel whole heartedly sad.
And yet it's my wish to be numb,
But my desire of honesty
And love gives no allowance for
Feeling nothing.
Mar 2015 · 2.0k
Lingering Chicken
Grace Pickard Mar 2015
Daintily- swirling in pockets of clarity
Fragments that once roamed alongside me
are left to decompose
It's
Unforseeing crystal ***** of bones,
Floating like petals of disdain,
Meet others alike with steel crunch
Jan 2015 · 608
Burnt from creation
Grace Pickard Jan 2015
And I live walking amongst your old path
I am a continuation of what you once were-
The pioneer of where you failed to head
I bear the heavy load of tear stricken goodbyes
The memories of softly fleeting lullabies
I am a lost spiritual savant reaching down
Kissing earths luscious soil with a frown-
By virtue of separating myself from the whole
Yet-
From you I've developed an individual soul

Strip me of all of lives riches-
And I am but an impression of everything that's alive and dead
Death and memories... Continuation of the deceased from birth, like everyone else- no matter who or what everything impacts you and stays with your mind. Our ancestors live within our thoughts and memories. I don't want to disappoint them. I am never earthly grounded, but it may be necessary in order to live for them and for myself. Communication and socializing- spending time with those I love is my top priority.
Jan 2015 · 2.0k
El Condor Pasa (If I could)
Grace Pickard Jan 2015
By Simon & Garfunkel**

I’d rather be a sparrow than a snail
Yes, I would
If I could
I surely would

I’d rather be a hammer than a nail
Yes, I would
If I only could
I surely would

Away, I’d rather sail away
Like a swan that’s here and gone
A man gets ******* to the ground
He gives the world its saddest sound
Its saddest sound

I’d rather be a forest than a street
Yes, I would
If I could
I surely would

I’d rather feel the earth beneath my feet
Yes, I would
If I only could
I surely would
These lyrics feel so pure with loving intent- I felt the need to share them with everyone. Their intentions are clear and meaningful. The beauty of the longing yet "content-ness" pulls at the strings of my soul and makes me feel grounded. Hoping someone appreciates this for what it is in the perceptions.
Jan 2015 · 1.3k
Gooey Bruisey
Grace Pickard Jan 2015
Your glow stick veins are meant to be cracked
To ooze beneath your tissue thin skin whilst smacked
To seep into minuscule puddles across you- trapped
To illuminate your thousands of flaws- mapped
Then to disappear- forgotten, forlorn, inapt.
Dec 2014 · 506
Writers Block
Grace Pickard Dec 2014
The vial in which my anger is kept
Stores the ink that
Flows through my pen
Onto the
Paper in which my sorrow has bled;
The words, now meaningless--dead
Ink and water don't mix- blurred, illegible phrases appear.
Nov 2014 · 5.3k
Peanut Butter Lye
Grace Pickard Nov 2014
The baby goat's mother was shot.
And I was forced to listen to it cry.
Forever forlorn and distraught
And i stood there- hands covering ears
Traveling back in time
----------------------------------------------------
Your mothers heart stopped
And I was forced to listen to you cry.
Lost in a huge world, more alone
And i stood there- hands covering ears

I heard you through the vents
"My mom is dead! My mom is dead"
Falling to the floor I wished I still dreamt
But she had called me before her bed

I heard her voice message months later
You still cried yourself to sleep at night
Sleeping with earplugs....I wish I didn't bake
Because I thought I killed her that night

Peanut butter cookies:
She taught me the recipe.
And two days before she vanished,
I brought her a dozen.
Autopsy reports showed an hour before death;
She took two bites of my cookies-
Went upstairs and her heart stopped.

Coincidentally exactly four years later,
I finally made peanut butter cookies again
And the smell of sweet peanut butter roasting
Stopped my heart
Nov 2014 · 1.5k
Ostinato
Grace Pickard Nov 2014
Constant
From the cue of entrance
Through the chaotic ink splashes
And the measures of rest
A part of us keeps this rhythm
Strung clear and precise
Mysteriously, wandering throughout
We pass around the chore
Until the final chord is drawn

But we survive
In the minds of our audience,
Forever trying to grasp hold of
Our fleeting orchestral heart beat:
Ostinato
An entrance cue in orchestra would be a breath. I like to relate music to life/the human body, in this poem my body is associated with an orchestra because orchestras preform as a single unit. Also, an ostinato is a repeated rhythm... Which in this case is my heart beating.
Oct 2014 · 647
Strutting my not so cool
Grace Pickard Oct 2014
Dear peer of mine,
Thank you for your shouting that interrupted the silence of my walk home.
I'll be sure to mend the seams you've broken.
Dear imbecilic ***,
Thank you for making my instinctual sense of alarm spike with your gibberish yells.
I'll be sure to fight or flight your obvious nightmare.
Dear egotist,
Thank you for the several minutes of self doubt you caused me when you shouted horrifically in my direction.
I'll be sure to note your superficial standards and, uh, not give a ****.
Dear secret admirer,
Thank you! I'm glad to make you just sooo nervous that you feel you just can't come up with the words to express your emotions nor can you approach me in an appropriate manner.
I'll be sure to keep on doing my own thing and you can observe<quietly> if you want.
Why must teenagers ruin my walk home from school with shouting nonsense? This is the stages after said nonsense.
Oct 2014 · 430
October 23, 2014
Grace Pickard Oct 2014
In the morning, the air is crisp
Life is hopeful
Within the colorful
Sunrise.

Come afternoon, the clouds have come
Hope is alive
Dwindling down to die
Betrayal.

Once evening falls the leaves kiss earth
No life, no death-
The moons light breath
(Is) stopped
Oct 2014 · 562
Untitled
Grace Pickard Oct 2014
Your cheeks melt from the lava erupting from your soul.
Your body shakes and trembles from the earthquake in your heart.
Your skin constricts from the ice within your flesh.
Time vanishes within the blink of an eye, stops and holds you in this devastation.
Your inner, earthly goddess
Spoke "tread straight through,
your world's depression-
it all shall pass."
Sep 2014 · 1.1k
To a new sunrise
Grace Pickard Sep 2014
I am fixated on the sun- slowly hiding behind the Sierras, mystifying all but you.
From the air escaping your lungs- vibrating your vocal folds-
The atmosphere of the serenity surrounding us is shattered.
Unconsciously analyzing your mind's expression, I register your truth.
To which I blush and giggle.
Because the sun setting tonight, is unlike all others.

And I am fixated on you, slowly becoming less mysterious
Aug 2014 · 805
Close
Grace Pickard Aug 2014
In two days my first book of poems will finally be published.
Although extremely happy, proud, and relieved; I'm also very sad.
Sad that my hearts' secrets are no longer secrets- sad that my book, my relationship and my love is finally resolved,ended, and in my past. It's also exhausting because it may be taken in the negative light and avoid all of the love. Or perhaps I will be judged harshly by my peers for being vulnerable and honest about my heart. I'm publishing it with positive energy and hope for well received thoughts.
However, no matter the reception, I will keep writing- it's in my veins and in my heart.
I can't keep apologizing for who I am- as I am no longer ashamed of being myself.
Jul 2014 · 1.1k
Contiguous
Grace Pickard Jul 2014
I am the water that trickles down your     throat
With each gulp you drink into me-I         satiate
I am the air your lungs breathe in and           out
Filling each breath only to be expelled consistently
I am the empty space between your blinks
The lacuna that widens your range of sight
I am the sun that beats down on your
coat
Nourishing your cold bones- becoming emaciate
I am the moon pulling the ocean in and out
Mystifying your unmitigated thought
persistently
I am the matter surrounding all you
think
Which must cause you quite the horrid fright

Love breathes into life;
Without life, love dies.
For being alive: I give you my love, but my presence will haunt you...for you live because of me and vice versa.
July 13, 2014
©2014, Grace Pickard, all rights reserved
Jul 2014 · 824
Bits and pieces
Grace Pickard Jul 2014
I have parted ways with my body
Because my mind isn't present
My heart, a charcoal gray: foggy
Has little passion since our dissent

I wrote dainty letters for you
Romantic, lengthy confessions.
Every empty word- away each flew
Whilst wading daily in depression.

Softly my soul fades with my love.
A hollow hole cut deep in your heart-
By unkind hope: an olive branching dove--
Is the coal that fuels this hatred art.

This suffering manifests my mind.
Winds blustering my common sense,
And life muttering "Are you blind?"
My body is combusting in defense .

Revenge begs me to set you ablaze-
Compassion  treads across this hell,
Speaks and heads into the insane,
Pulls me by the threads out of a spell.

I restrain from you- I am free -
I won't mention your infidelity.
Just make me feel not absentee.

I'm just done being unhappy.
Lots of thoughts- to be made into several different poems
©2014, Grace Pickard, all rights reserved
Jun 2014 · 1.6k
Les Fleurs de Thomas Paine
Grace Pickard Jun 2014
It all started here;
Some thirty students-
Minds controlled by their puppeteer,
Walked in clueless

My mind came colorful, progressive-
Only my beliefs sprouted!
The seed had already been expressive
Just- the stem was clouded

The renaissance fertilized the soil
Dry, cracked, barren, deprived;
Destitute of the benevolent oil-
Used to awaken thoughts: revived

But what truly blossomed my bud-
Were the French philosophes,
Who's blue, liberal blood-
Solidified my leftist approach

I have always been the optimist;
Through many deaths and rebirths-
I knew it wasn't the apocalypse,
And instead kept the beauty of earth

Because I filled my life with fascination,
My opinions bloomed:bright and rich.
The rain could not cleanse my veneration,
Not to a diety, but to my democratic itch

My petals are strong to hold bees-
Who cannot fly or make honey
It's my civic duty to fight this disease
That in life- one is subject to money

However, I am not just one of Paine's flowers,
I am an independent with liberal powers.
This is part if my informal final paper for ap euro- I decided to answer each of the five prompts with poems
May 2014 · 1.0k
Coup de grâce
Grace Pickard May 2014
I saw her
My lip quivered
And my heart stopped

I saw her
The earth fell
And crashed into the abyss

I saw her
Realizing the chaos
As it shattered from her glimpse

I saw her
Looking into me
And regarding my essence

I saw her
Eyes piercing me
And I was petrified by her kindness

I saw her
Breathed in death
And the last of all beautiful things was seen
©2014, Grace Pickard, all rights reserved

This is a poem about myself
May 2014 · 898
A Part Of Me Will Die
Grace Pickard May 2014
At some point the mind must release
And allow the pain to subside  
To make tomorrow settle for peace
With the salty waves in my mind

At some point the mind must let go
And forget about the weeks and days
Spent upon the oceans ebb and flow
Let go he rains the hearts fiery blaze

At some point the heart must warm up
And angered she burns quickly
Boiling the polluted puddles into sirup
Which leaks into the soul thickly

At some point part of the soul must die
Allowing the whole to be free
She will be vulnerable and cry
But at las  she can genuinely be
Gracie Pickard May 3, 2014
©2014, Grace Pickard, all rights reserved
Apr 2014 · 802
Drifting into a dream
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
I put on Harvest Moon
Neil Young wraps me in his arms
The music makes me swoon
Dulls out the loud alarms

Breathe in

I am in a valley beneath one tree
The earth hugs me with grass
Wind calls to address me
"This all shall pass"

Breathe out

My tears pitter patter like rain drops
Soaking my memories with confusion
Every fact hurls through mid air and stops
This rainstorm had no preclusion

Breathe in

Imagining us far apart in separate whens
Both living- saying adieu
"I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you"

Breathe out

No matter the shatter, I must keep trying
Give me the power to overcome
I can stop myself from internally dying
And bring back what isn't numb

Breathe in

Listen to my somber melody
Connect with my bitter bones
Appreciate my new identity
Walk with me into the unknown

I'm not the same person you knew
Take me in your arms- would you?
Our song was harvest moon - so I reference it quite a bit
Gracie Pickard  April 20, 2014
Apr 2014 · 15.2k
Not City Stars
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
You are the city
I am trying to get back into nature. Your bright lights beckon me back-
But your pollution is killing me
City officials refuse to address the problem
Even when I write up a
petition and policy
to highlight the issues- I am ignored. There are natural bright lights in nature
- the ones I miss-
life with fresh air is positivity.
It's my fault I allowed the city
to become polluted.
Gracie Pickard April 19,2014
Apr 2014 · 1.2k
Ambiguously Undefined
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
We're just like Carrie and Mr. Big
You want to be free
We're just like Harry and Sally
We like each other at the wrong times
We're just like Lloyd and Diane
I'll never stop trying
We're just like Allie and Noah
From different walks of life
We're just like Scarlett and Rhett
Independent and Fickle
We're just like Ilsa and Rick
Nothing can separate us forever
We're just like Bridget and Mark
Childhood friends turned accidental lovers
We're just like Hubbell and Katie
I'm just too unique to settle down with

We're just like you and me
Undefined , real, struggling
Gracie Pickard April 17,2014
Apr 2014 · 874
Romeo
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
A man, with a depression struck face;
who spent his days hidden away
now tries to erase
his hearts clouds of gray

His friends did him a favor
in effort to mend his soul
Yet his heart was the craver-
Juliet made him whole

He spoke as though he was creeper
she was swooned by his smile
Married off and he tried to keep her
killed her cousin; subjected to exile

While away, Juliet had a plan to fake her death
Little did she know she was taking Romeo’s last breath
Romeo and Juliet Gracie Pickard April 16 2014
Apr 2014 · 930
Heartwood
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
I am a tree
Sprouting leaves
But my leaves too will leave

I am a tree
My thick bark protects me
But contains deep scars

Beneath my bark are layers of life
The history of my surroundings
But my heartwood is dead

My heartwood still supports me
It won't decay or lose strength
But it's only because of my thick bark

My outer bark- gained over decades;
Protects me from the destruction of my
Heartwood
For being
Vulnerable
Gracie Pickard April 13, 2014
Apr 2014 · 905
Untitled
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
You, Sir, are clarity.
Yet your mind wanders aloof;
Sun, clear opacity
Gracie Pickard April 10, 2014
Apr 2014 · 692
I am ALIVE
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
I'm alive
Here is my unadulterated heart
Bring on the pain and suffering
The scary bits of possible rejection

This is vulnerability
Gracie Pickard April 9, 2014
Apr 2014 · 917
Ditto
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
One word
You said "ditto."
That word shattered my heart
Because it took courage to say
(I) love you
Gracie Pickard April 8, 2014
Apr 2014 · 431
Prima
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
My prime example of love
Stemmed from intensity
Is not a once size fits all glove

The found each other- destiny
In the midst of a celebration
In highschool unintentionally

Born with high expectations
Maybe my soul mate is nearing
I'm just waiting for my invitation

The truth is it's unsparing
Waiting around for 'the one'
Takes away my caring
Gracie Pickard April 9, 2014
Apr 2014 · 1.8k
I am the sun
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
I am the sun
I might burn you
But only with puns

I am the sun
I'll enlighten you
Yet I won't be done

I am the sun
I will brighten your path
Just for fun

I am the sun
I will keep the moon bright
Because you are the one

I am the sun
If you come too close to me
I will burn you, loved one
It's hard to trust- but when you read my final collection you'll finally know the truth
Gracie Pickard April 9, 2014
Apr 2014 · 300
This moment
Grace Pickard Apr 2014
I saw the song title "All you need is love" two minutes ago
I balled my eyes out.
I am so guarded perhaps I've been avoiding love in order to protect myself. Or maybe I'm just going through a long long heart break I just can't shake.

Vulnerability
The certitude that all will be swell
Will I be fine and dandy?
Gracie Pickard April 4, 2014
Mar 2014 · 966
Alas I am free
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
Tonight I have decided
That love should be indicted
Because I am not the final "Z"
But alas I am free.

Yesterday I said good bye
I'm deserving of a wise guy
Because I am not a bourgeoise
But alas I am free.

Tomorrow I may just weep
It's hard to feel incomplete
Yes, I don't flow like the ocean sea
But alas I am free

Currently I am exultant
For this is the resultant
I am a bel esprit
(But) Alas I am free
First  written kyrielle by me!
March 29, 2014
Printed in my poetry collection
Mar 2014 · 610
Élan vital
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
My soul
Is happy now
Uncaged allowed to roam
It sees life's utter pulchritude
I’m free
Sunday, March 30, 2014 Gracie Pickard
Mar 2014 · 1.7k
Wandering thoughts
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
Beside the window sits chirping
Chirping
Chirping
Birds! I'm trying to write. DBQ... FRQ..... Fml...
Starting-
passing by the sun hides behind the top of the sky
Noon- I'm trapped
Black
white
Colorless ideas and sights
"Opinions" used to persuade the guard to mark down you did all right in your studies
Adolescents- slaves to your presence
Obey the clock
Tick
       Tock
Tick
       Tock
Tick
"talk" speak your mind as long as I agree
God forbid,
My mind wanders
Far away lands,
Flowers unsold
People oh so bold
Love un-withhold
                        Stories untold
Take hold!
Wake up!
Absorb this!
My soul is invalid...as I am a slave to sick, adolescent oppression
Education is just memorization.
.
My mathematics notes
Mar 2014 · 705
#thestruggle
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
I find it nearly
                        impossible
   To write a poem that's clearly done
                    In simple,
Concise
Words
&
Phrases
Mar 2014 · 337
Liberation from attachments
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
Cold is the day
When I know I can't stay
When I'm waving goodbye
Knowing it can't be I

Cold is the day
When the world is made of clay
When I know I can't cry
Because it was all a lie

Cold is the day
When you're crawling back in May
When it's only just i
And I can't live any more lies
Twas time to move on
Mar 2014 · 2.3k
1 + 1
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
There are lots of young kids
Lined up in rows
And told what to be
And to avoid the lows
But there's one who is different
Who doesn't conform
He can't seem to fit in
To what is the norm

Wearing shorts on his head
"You're a ******" they said
But he knew more
So he had to ignore
As he grew up
With no friends to say 'sup
He felt so alone
While the other kids played
He always stayed home
And dreamed of a change

Then one day next door
A neighbor moved in
He greeted hello
And she returned a grin

She didn't follow a single trend
And proved everyone can find a friend
Mar 2014 · 4.4k
Sunny
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
This is a poem for my little sister,
Sunday
Who carries emotional battle wounds
From a mother who left her for heroine.
Who hoards food because she's
Afraid
Bullied for being overweight
Light hearted and Jolly
Just to be judged by me
Rejected
By the time I understood I was
Too late
"You're really going to wea- let's go out!"
You needed love
But even I hadnt fully accepted you
Your baby blue eyes pooling became MY
Priority
I can't fix your mom abandoning you
Nor can I make up for the years you didn't know our father
I'll never be able to take back the cruel things I said
That weakened your knees and killed your temporary happiness
I should've been a good role model
But I hated that you became dad's little girl too
I was selfish and blind
Time is not reversible
But each day forward is an opportunity to make your life happier
I love you-
Words you should hear everyday
A twelve year old who never fails to inspire me
My Sunshine
Mar 2014 · 1.3k
why didn't i just say NO?
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
Here's the thing about second chances;
After the first one you're just being           used
No matter he says and dances
Your sweet personality is abused

When one can't let go
Waiting for the right moment
Feeling oh so low
Becoming more than broken

He manipulates
But karma never reciprocates

Crying- being vulnerable
He apprehends
While you're not able

To comprehend

Seeking a lover
Or perhaps just being lonely
He starts to smother
But it's him being phony

He manipulates
But karma never reciprocates
From my whole slew of unrequited love with my best friend poems.
Mar 2014 · 1.8k
Desiccant glue
Grace Pickard Mar 2014
Numb is the girl who dreams
The one who fails to see everything
Even though the world is not all that it seems
She finds the beauty in anything

Dumb is the boy who leaves
The one who is burying
A life he is told not to believe
Who will just continue worrying

Numb is the girl who loves
Who cries tears of gold-
Over just one silly dove-
Who thought she was too bold

Dumb is the boy who is beloved
Who had been told
"A proper man is devoid of-
Girls who aren't bought and sold

Dumb is the boy who never knew
She was his only glue

— The End —