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Sarah Langton Mar 2017
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And forgot your reason to fly.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And remembered only reasons to cry.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
While filling the world with laughs.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
While we all thought it would last.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And struggled each day to fight.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
While you labored to hold onto light.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And felt alone while surrounded by friends.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And prayed for it all to come to an end.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
While your family stood by and watched.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And felt like your life was so botched.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
And that I couldn’t make you less alone.
I’m sorry you lost your happy thought,
But how could anyone have known?

I’m sorry that words seem so meager,
And will never be able to replace,
The laughs you shared and all that joy,
And the smile upon your face,
And if there is a single thing,
That could be wished or taught,
I would wish and teach every single soul,
To never lose their happy thought.
Sarah Langton Feb 2017
Dear Adults,
I hate it when you look down on those of us in high school,
As if there's some sort of unspoken rule
That the time we spend in such a place
Is supposed to be sublime.

"Stop complaining."
I'm sorry, I assumed that when you asked about my day
I wasn't supposed to mask what I say
And tell you that everything is swell.

To what extent will you dismiss my discontent
Toward the discipline with hardly any discipline nowadays?

"You'll miss it. Just wait until you get into the real world."
The "real world"?
Why, suddenly, is my world not real enough for you?
From all I've been through in my life,
High school has presented me with the most strife, and so
Since when is a bit of resentment
Unjustified?

The nerve you pride
Yourself in having, presuming
That there is any amount of artificiality in my reality
Is infuriatingly consuming.

How can you think we could make any sense
Of the difficulties surrounding anything but what we've experienced?
This I cannot comprehend.
But maybe you want us to pretend?

"How was school today?"
Oh, it was okay.
I only dealt with misunderstanding,
The pressure of classes being so demanding,
The difficulty of self consciousness
That is amplified each day by bullies' relentlessness.
I only endured mental exhaustion
From switching subjects each hour, without option.
I simply struggled with your expectation
That colleges should long to give me an invitation,
Even though I'm being forced to commit to
A life plan I've made based off the little I've been through.

School is a privilege, we know,
Yet, so is possessing a job.
So why, then, am I a snob,
When you're allowed to 'complain'?

I realise that life could be much worse for me,
And someday high school might seem like a breeze,
But until the day comes when I become aware
That the troubles of high school cannot compare,
Let me have my time to vent, please.
Sarah Langton Feb 2017
My heartbeat feels like it is going a thousand times faster than it should be able to go.
It’s like a race car zooming around a corner, able to crash at any moment.
My hands tremble uncontrollably, like two tiny earthquakes set into my skin.
My palms are cold and clammy.
My face burns with the heat of a hundred fires right below the surface, heating my face and glowing it red.
There is a net in my throat, catching all the air I try to breathe.
I feel as if everyone is waiting for me to make a mistake,
To fall into their waiting, open jaws
My voice shakes when I speak.
The words barely slide out, and they sound clunky and sharp in my mouth.
I stutter, the darkest cloud on a rainy day.
I feel as though I’m melting with embarrassment and have to pinch myself to make sure I am still there.
I feel weak with the pressure of people’s eyes weighing me down.
I’m not sure what is happening around me.
The words that come out are prepared and stiff, like microwaved meals, slightly soggy and yet good enough.
By the time it’s over I’m not sure what truly happened
My actions forgotten, my words forgotten, to me and those around me
My wrongdoings and mistakes are forgotten in a whirlwind of mist to those around me
Those preoccupied with their own troubles and sorrows, their own prepared words, some like gourmet meals
But my mistakes stick out to me
A siren is going off in my head
You stuttered, you said um too much, you went too quickly, you didn’t pause enough, you didn’t look up and the people sitting before you, you sounded like robot without emotion or feeling, you messed up
My heartbeat, still beating like a drum, doesn’t falter its fast rhythm
My hands still shake
My palms are still cold and clammy
My face still feels hot and flushed
The sirens still go off in my head
And yet somehow I feel slightly more at ease
Sarah Langton Nov 2016
Frostbit fingertips caress the razor's edge,
Cold ideals implanting themselves inside my head,
Inadvertent gestures given effortlessly by my limbs,
Complacency of warmth never sets in.
This is an endless winter,
One where the air gets thinner,
A proclamation to the clement season,
War without a rhyme or reason.
Turmoil is elemental and so simplistic a feature,
Though personal and integral,
I cannot bear to brace this creature.
It's becoming deeper; this feeling urges my cliffs steeper.
Stepping closer to see the fall,
Negligence consumes my all,

Have I  let go of What I am?

I stand here with unclenched hands,
Retreating into my own,
Enduring this all alone.
I scream to remember passion,
Unheard emotions in breathtaking fashion,
Frostbit fingertips caress the razor's edge,
Cold ideals implanting themselves inside my head,
We are all the same; unique and indifferent,
Living as if this cryptic fever is isolated, but it isn't.

Have i let go of what I am?

I stand here with unclenched hands,
Retreating into my own,
Enduring this all alone.

Have I let go of what I am?
Sarah Langton Nov 2016
Living next to the mouth of madness,
Waiting and scared it might swallow you whole.
And every minute drags and passes,
You fear for your life, your heart and your soul.

It's frightening residing next to the abyss,
It's a darkness you know but cannot explain.
You live on the edge fearing you might slip,
but this fear that you know is not your pain.

You have gone through a virtual nightmare,
And you cry for those lost within the dark.
While came out of the other side of the terror,
You can't help those who are still falling apart.

You peer across the abyss searching for hope,
And your reflection is all that you ever see.
With all the horror that can commence,
You're glad you took back that spare key.

Lock all the doors and bar all the windows,
Shut every ounce of madness out.
You might be safe, you could be just fine,
But why leave any room for doubt.

Paranoia peers back at you,
From the other side of the abyss.
You quit looking for that madness,
Something that you never miss.

The delusions fade and things go calm,
You say goodbye to the madness and the abyss.
The key is once again in your palm,
Lock it all out and enjoy your bliss...
Sarah Langton Nov 2016
Ignore the truth staring you in the face.
Pay no attention to the men behind the war,
And you will turn a very blind eye,
Until the death and destruction is at your door.

The cycle continues and repeats itself.
The ones pulling strings are the ones who profit.
Fear and population control,
While sinister suits reap all the deposits.

Disregard the truth right before you.
They're not here to protect or to serve.
They created the destruction, created the war,
And all of this barely strikes your nerve.

Try as you might, the truth is still there,
Begging to be accepted by all,
But the majority choose to refuse it,
And that will lead to our fail.

Unite we stand, but we can't stand in lies.
Together we band, but only in truth.
The truth's there to see for one and all.
You don't have to dig very far or sleuth.

The killing won't end till we open our eyes.
We are the puppets guided by suits.
Don't believe what they tell you to.
Stand together and search for the truth.

We are stronger united than apart.
We are stronger behind a wall of fact.
We can win the war hand in hand.
Let's reveal the real war wages in this act.
Sarah Langton Aug 2016
To be a hopeless romantic in a time when romance is dead,
Is truly a sad state of affairs in matters of the heart and the head.
While others’ concerns are twerking, *******, fashion and tweeting,
My concern is for finding a reason for my heart’s very beating.
Yes, the world’s no longer worried about love and romance.
No one writes letters, really talks, cuddles or holds hands.
Nowadays it’s all just friends with benefits and hanging out,
And it seems that everyone forgot what love is really all about.
There’s no courting, no dating, no gestures straight from the heart.
It’s all about how fast someone can get someone else’s legs apart.
Well, that’s not me and maybe I’m old fashioned or a *****,
But all the stuff that’s part of hooking up just seems rude.
No, I want the mush and the gush and all the sweetness too.
I want the courting and dating that leads into the I love you’s.
I want hand-holding, cuddling, and everything in between,
Letters and phone calls and to be treated like a queen,
But all I ever get is rejection and forever ignored,
Or I’m approached by men who leave me annoyed or bored.
There’s no brain or no heart inside of their soul,
And I know that these men cannot be the other half of my whole.
They put forth no effort and leave after my big heart’s revealed.
My heart’s been broken so much it’s a wonder it ever healed.
I’m tired of being hurt and constantly getting burned.
All that I want is to give my love and to be loved in return.
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