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Sep 2018 · 608
To My Friend
Jonathan Nunez Sep 2018
You have turned your back on everyone.
Especially me,
But I can never turn my back on you.
Why?
Because I’m your friend.

You have closed your heart
And now it is as cold as ice.
But my heart is still warm for you.
Why?
Because I’m your friend.

You act coldly
When you were once kind,
But I can tell you are hurting inside.
How?
Because I’m your friend.

After what you did
Others now think you’re evil.
But not me
Why?
Because I’m your friend.

I know you can still be saved.
Others have given up on you,
But I can never give up on you.
Why?
Because I’m your friend.

You can try to deny it
You can even try to **** me
But I’ll shoulder your hatred
Why?
Because I’m your friend.  

You’re trapped deep in the darkness
But I’ll do anything to pull you out
and bring you back to the light
Why?
Because I’m your friend.

I will reach out my hand until you take it
For if our roles were reversed
you would do the same
Why?
Because you’re my friend.
The idea for this poem hit me late at night and I just had to start writing it out.
Jun 2018 · 817
The Box
Jonathan Nunez Jun 2018
I am in a box.
A box that I am trapped in.
The warm sun does not enter.
I am isolated inside this cold, dark, lonely box.

The weather outside is fine,
With the clouds parting with each other.
The warmth of the sun cannot reach my darkened heart.

The outside is full of people
Who are blissfully unware of my pain.
They don’t know or care that I am trapped inside.

The pain from this loneliness is slowly killing me.
I know I have got to break free,
But I have abandoned all hope.

I reach out for help,
But the bitterness in my soul from being trapped
Repels them away from me.

Until one man offers to help.
Out of bitterness, I demand he leave me.
I have given up on my dream to be free.
I doubt he can help anyway.

To my surprise, he comes back
And offers to help me again.
I tell him that it is impossible
As he struggles to break me free.

Bit by bit he makes little progress.
For the first time in ages,
I feel a small glimmer of hope.
I start to make an effort to break out.

After some time, I finally burst out.
I am finally free.
I thank the man with tears in my eyes.
He rejects the thanks,
Saying that most of the effort came from me.

“I only got you started,” he says
“You freed yourself.”
Please let me know what you think of this poem. The idea came to me when I was trying to help a certain person.
May 2018 · 481
Growing Stronger
Jonathan Nunez May 2018
When the rain falls,
Memories of when I was a child come back to me.
A child who could only cry.
A child who always fell behind.
My thought back then was:
"Will I become stronger someday?"

I ask myself now:
"Am I stronger now
Or as weak as back then?"

I don't know for sure,
But until then my journey will not end.
I may fall,
But I always continue to stand.

The voices inside me
Push me forward and to keep surviving.
Even if I have to go through the fiercest of storms,
I am not stopping
And I am not turning back.
After reflecting on my life, I felt inspired to write this short poem.
Mar 2018 · 296
Moving On
Jonathan Nunez Mar 2018
Some time has past
But I can still feel the sting.
Your empty words had
Cut me open from the inside.
I thought you were different.
I thought I could trust you.

Did you also feel pain?
Why were you the one crying?
Didn’t you want to fix it?
Why do you continue to ignore me?
You knew what was going to happen,
Didn’t you?

I no longer feel that burning anger.
I no longer feel that sorrow.
I only feel indifference.
I cared deeply once
But now I just don’t.
If that’s all it took,
Then maybe
Good riddance.

With or without you
I’ll keep on running
And reaching for the stars.
If we do speak again,
I want you to look at me differently.
Not like before,
But as someone new.
I’ve grown.
And I hope you have too.
A poem I wrote back in 2014.
Mar 2018 · 18.3k
Leaves From the Vine
Jonathan Nunez Mar 2018
Leaves from the vine,
Falling so slow.
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy
Come marching home.
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home.

These leaves did fall
From branches overgrown.
Drifting slowly down.
Resting all alone.

Little soldier boy
Taken from a home.
Forced to fight a war
That is not his own.

Leaves from the vine,
Falling so slow.
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy
Come marching home.
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home.

Leaves fell that night
When everything was silent.
No one dared to make a noise.

The little soldier boy
Found his way back home.
His mother wrapped her arms
Around his corpse.

Leaves from the vine,
Falling so slow.
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy
Come marching home.
Brave soldier boy
Come marching home.
Mar 2018 · 3.1k
The Monster
Jonathan Nunez Mar 2018
An evil monster blocks my path.
It looks at me while giving a sinister grin.
With fear in my heart, I try to fight it.
My efforts are in vain.
The monster overpowers me.

The monster leaves me defeated.
Laughing, the monster rushes to attack my friends.
One by one the monster hurts them.
All just to torture me.

Tears run across my face.
For, I am helpless to stop the monster.
All I could do was watch the horror,
Unable to fight anymore.

I recall all the times
That I needed to be strong,
But failed to achieve victory.

A friend reaches out to me.
His last words begin to spark something in me.
The monster sees this and kills him.

Something awakens in me.
Out of rage, I transform.
Pain causing me to go beyond my limits.
Latent power that I never knew I had explodes.

The monster looks back at me.
The monster is speechless,
And begins to shake.

With sharp eyes,
I challenge the monster again.
The battle is once again one-sided.
However, this time,
I overpower the monster.

The monster is unable to keep up anymore.
The pain the monster had dealt,
Was paid back.
The monster gets desperate,
But the monster’s efforts are in vain.

With borrowed strength,
plus the rage and sorrow burning in my heart,
I slay the monster for good.

Exhausted and the battle over,
I smile while shedding one last tear.

— The End —