True pain comes from within,
The kind of pain you have to lock away so nobody will know how you truly feel.
True pain is watching two people you love throw their lives away,
And having to act like it doesn’t bother you.

The boy you lust after has hurt you so many times before,
Showing you constantly he is not worthy of you.
Yet you still choose him over the one man who cares about you so deeply,
It is on a spiritual level.

This man does not want you for your body or your looks
This man will not hurt you like the foolish boy, he cares for you.
You say you don’t have feelings for him,
Yet you lead him on to make him continue to chase you.

That’s what it’s all about isn’t it?
The chase. To see how far he’ll go.
How far he is willing to chase you,
While you continue to fall into the foolish boy’s trap.

I can’t stand around to watch this,
No, I won’t stand around to watch this.
Not when you have clearly decided that you want nothing to do
With the man who loves you,
But instead fall for tricks and lies,
The same lies that have deceived you before.

You say you have chemistry with the man,
A connection you don’t have with the boy.
What chemistry? You have no chemistry,
The only chemistry you have is the class,
And you don’t even have that together.

So I stand here watching you make a wrong decision,
While hurting the man who loves you,
Seeing how broken he is,
But he says he rather you be happy without him,
And he will take the collateral damage.

You have set out on a destructive path,
Taking down innocent people along the way,
And we all try to help you,
But you say you don’t want or need it.

I can’t stand here and watch you hurt people who only want to help you.
I can’t stand here and watch you hurt the man I love.
So while you prance off with that foolish boy,
I’ll be here picking up the broken pieces of this man,
And act like I don’t have feelings for him,
Because I know he still loves you.

That is my broken lifespan.

– Lifespan // F.C.

Everything we do in society is a popularity contest.
It doesn’t matter how good you are at something,
As long as you are loved by everyone.

It bothers me how we value appearances over quality.
The effort you put into a drawing, or poem doesn’t matter,
As long as you have a pretty face.

Half of the time people don’t even appreciate the work the person has done,
They only liked it because they were so popular.

When did popularity ruin the value of passion?

It doesn’t matter if it is the worst poem or piece of art in the world,
As long as it was done by someone who is praised.
The quality plays no part in their art.

It sickens me that we live in a society,
Where even writing poems, has become
A popularity contest.

– Popularity Contest // F.C.

What a society we live in,
Where we are swimming in an ocean of information,
And drowning in a sea of ignorance.

Too blinded by our own desires,
Unable to see what we actually need.
Too busy looking down at our phones,
Not having a second to look up.

We miss the possibility of something great,
Because we are so concerned that we might miss something online.
I fear that our society has been so consumed by social media,
That instead of saving someone’s life,
People will be too busy standing around,
Recording the events and posting it online.

I fear for our future.
What have we done to humanity?
What a society we live in.

– Society // F.C.

I know it may seem weird,
But I feel like without some nostalgic or poignant words
Poetry doesn’t have as deep of a meaning.

The words on the page no longer mean something,
They don’t evoke emotion, or scream memories,
Behind every word there isn’t a knowledge that nobody would know.
We are blinded by the cheerful words and colourful phrases.

I feel like poems about happiness are lies.
They seem too forced, and empty,
The words don’t have a deep connection to the author

I feel like all poets are the same,
Whether they write sad poems or happy ones,
There is always a person on the other side,
With a forced smile telling everyone they are fine.

– Poetry // F.C.

I like to write in pencil, because it allows me to erase my mistakes.

I like to write with a pencil, because I can write as lightly or as dark as I like.

Sometimes I wish there was a pencil that writes the story of our life.

Then I’d be able to erase any mistakes I make.

I would be able to write lightly and be in the background,

Or write harshly and be very visible.

The only problem with writing with a pencil is that it can easily be snapped.

– Pencil // F.C.

I am silently crying out for help,
Wishing that somebody, anybody will see me.
For somebody to ask me what’s wrong?
And know that I’m lying when I say “I’m fine”
Because, darling I am many things, but “fine” is not one of them.
I am the farthest thing from fine.
I’m a disaster.

– Silent Cry // F.C.