I'm goin' downtown
To see what's goin' around
Nothing but a bunch of empty space
because reality is hittin' people in da' face.
No style, no talk.
Just a walk,
around the block,
I shouldn't even be out.
But there is no sound
in my cell:
Decrease in education.
No way out, it still gonna spread.
Watch out, before people stay away
from you like you already dead.
I'm goin' to my ghostown,
Watching people from above
Having a common stare-down
They aren't the only ones to know.
All of this:
is The Pits.
No way out,
stuck here...no doubt.
Outtake on Coronavirus while walking in town which has not been quarantine yet.
Can we talk about the daisies that lie in wait
as the little sister shouts
to her brother not too far,
that flowers aren’t only for girls
because one day he will have to bring them to the ****** shape in the green grass
where she rests and the daisies have finally wilted,
don’t have the same charm it enraptured his sister with
and didn’t create the same smile on his drying lips,
the watercolor red stains his eyes
and the veins become
the stems of a regret-filled life.
Long lines of clouds could be seen
under the dense blue where a so-called
'space' is available who wish to explore a
new world where humans do not inhabit
the mind and take control of your body.
how freeing, not even a bird could compare
to aimlessly floating around next to the Stars,
glimmering in the dark abyss, which I compare
to my old planet filled with a dark sense of humor.
This foreboding taste of the lost little girl,
who is an alien among her own and
to the stars. But at least those welcome her
with bright grins and burns. Not a sugarcoated
tongue who forces its way down your throat.
being the Weird
By the river we sat,
the fish squirm below.
They remind me of speckled dirt.
A stone flies, spattering
rings of a tree which show
our life over the short years.
The insects that sing and thrive during a
Summer day relish in a sun
so warm it brightens our skin
turning it deep red as the maple leaves
when autumn shows its cold shoulder.
The color slowly hurts as the harsh winds
hit our cheeks with a slap
full of rules and stricter discipline.
Distance is not the only thing
that grows between us.
Snow drops appear slowly, yet
I sit waiting by the river for you.
Chills form, I stand as still as the snow.
Leaving footprints of longing, I backtrack
every time I spot a piece of fresh grass
sprouting out of the blank blanket;
A new-born friend, that is very weak.
Searching for a replacement as time grows.
The river thaws, Winter ends, bringing
Spring in poor conditions.
Mud has encased the entirety of the water.
So thick, it is a disturbing smell, or it could
be you I think of so fondly.
Your booming voice has never been so clear;
Bringing a rain so soft,
it makes me tremble under its pressure
as you shed all my tears.
This is for class, let me know if you like it please :)
Leaving me behind,
You selfish bird.
Spread your seeds;
In the mountains,
we carve our hearts
The sun rising soon
Waiting for a melody
As we become in tune
Withering under the heat
Our love burns away
Like the webs spiders weave
Stringing our mistakes
The everlasting moment
Watching our hands prune
Dying with your last breath
Your soul flies over the moon
Casting a shadow over our heart
Vowing to never forget you
With this lovely little tune
If only, I could have loved you longer
Been a while since i posted something.
You pick me up with your fingers
A hungry, dominant stare lingers
Pulling my limbs apart
Your mouth reeks with 'Sweetheart.'
In this lifeless state of wonder
Glazed by societal views, dragging me under
Clasped tight with no escape
Wanting to scream, '****!'