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Noah Stowe Sep 2016
Sinking into the depths of the sea,
Her mind like an anchor,
Dragging her down.
But her heart,
Like a raft trying, forever, to pull her back up.

And finally the raft pops.
She sinks down.

Farther,

And farther,

Until the light of the beautiful sun
Won't even touch her fragile face.
Noah Stowe Aug 2016
Why?
Why can't he kiss the man he loves?
Why can't she tell the world how she feels?
Why does he get paid more than she does?
Why does he get shot because he is
a different colour than you?

Why?
Why can't the world be free of hate?
Why can't we love people for who they are inside?
Why can't we accept the differences of others?
Why can't love be love regardless of gender?

Why?
Why can't you respect his gender?
He was born in the wrong body.
Why can't you respect their gender?
They didn't ask to be born into a binary world.

Why?
Why can't she feel safe?
Her race isn't her fault.
Why can't he get a job?
He couldn't afford a nice suit
To be interviewed in.

Why?
Why is the world this way?
Noah Stowe Aug 2016
Her words went unheard.
Her story untold.
She lived in silence.
A deafening silence.

But had her voice been heard,
The world would have turned out better.

And the world would have been filled
With deafening noise.
Noah Stowe Aug 2016
The beautiful Flower
Stood tall in the grass.
Until a storm took its
Beauty away.
And the Flower was
No more.
Noah Stowe Aug 2016
Swept beneath the ocean waves,

Gasping for air,

Never quite reaching the surface.
Noah Stowe Jun 2016
I fall on the floor
And everybody sees
But life drags on without caring.

I get sick
And everybody knows
But life drags on without caring.

I fall into depression
And everybody feels it
But life drags on without caring.

But when I leave the world
Suddenly I am the selfish one.
And life drags on without me.
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
All of my depression poems after 6/5/2016 will have a suicide hotline number.
Noah Stowe Jun 2016
Dear World;
I'm so sorry
That I wouldn't tell you about the pain.
That you couldn't see me sinking in
Until I sunk too deep.
That you couldn't hear my screams
Until they were gone.
That you couldn't see my pain
Until I went numb.
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
All of my depression poems after 6/5/2016 will have a suicide hotline number.
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