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 Jan 2016 Alisha
Taylor Jones
We talked today
I could only think of things to say
After we parted ways

So many questions
But the one that has crossed my mind for the hundredth time tonight

Do you think of me as much as I think of you?
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Taylor Jones
When my existence ends,
Do not hold me to earth.
Bury me within the stars;
Return me to which I came from.
Let me shake hands with those
who watch over the night
and dance to a song
Unheard by the living ear.
Here I will find my soul.
Here I will join immortals.
A poem I wrote close to a year ago.
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Alex Durow
I need more reason
I need more rhyme
I need more trophies to validate time

I need more money
I need more school
I need more people to tell me what's cool

I need more power
I need more laws
I need more effect to satisfy cause

So apparently:

I need more love
I need more vision
For the Peaks I needed and the reasons I didn't
Talking about living in a world of constant 'more' and 'not good enough'... when do we learn to live for us, and not for the critics
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Riya
To my unfinished poems,
the ones that will never see the light of day.
The ones that sit and pray
To be more than just a fantasy.

I need you to know that I’m sorry.
Sorry for not being brave enough to show you off to the world,
Sorry for not having enough strength to sew you up and make you perfect,
Sorry for not being able to give you enough so you could be just right,
Sorry that I didn’t have the strength to write.

To my unfinished poems,
The smell of coffee and stains of tears
Will always remain on your tattered pages.
The wails in the middle of the night
Of all the strife and plight
That I had to witness with my innocent little eyes.

To my unfinished poems,
Dry up your little eyes,
I know it’s hard to only see the night sky,
To never know the glimmer of light,
To be an incomplete work of art,
But darlings,
Don’t you see,
How even when you’re incomplete,
You’re still so very special to me.
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Laken Cooper
A beautiful creature which God has made.
Also, a great feeling that you gave.
Point of Retreat : )
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Noah Ducane
Jenny killed herself
Because of all the things people do;
It's not much of an excuse,
But it's true.

Jenny's death was quick and painless
Life's pain dragged on too long;
And some people hate pain
More than others.

Jenny couldn't be bothered
To hang around
She was busy hanging
After all the kids laughed
And parents cried.

Jenny was a lover
And a love subject, too;
So many loved her,
If she only knew.
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Jennifer
“Mummy I’m sick” said the girl pale white
The mum turned around in an awful fright
exclaimed, “What’s wrong? How do you feel?’
She replied with an honesty “I never feel real”.

The mother just sighed, went back to her book.
The little girl shocked didn’t know where to look
and went back to bed, in her nothingness room
Whilst her mother ignored her nothingness gloom

The next year the girl aged, just turned thirteen,
she called out to her mum who couldn’t be seen.
And shouted down stairs “mum something is wrong”
with the mothers reply “what the hell’s going on”

So the girl with the pause says “Mum I feel sad”,
Then the mum goes on about all the girl has
and how lucky she is, and no fuss should be made
Just think happy thoughts, it will all go away.

To which the teenage girl said “you’re right” with a breath,
and goes to her room, feels like turning to death,
but switches off her light and lays in her gloom,
her room filled with nothing, fit for a tomb.

Now just turned sixteen, her heart had just broke,
a boy that she loved continued to joke
about all the things, she hated the most
her weight, her smile, she felt like a ghost

And after a week, she spoke to her mum,
about feeling so fat and feeling so numb.
Unfortunately for her, the cliche applied,
about how all teens feel this, trying to clarify
to her girl that the “fact” is it isn’t real
stop saying you’re sick, illness isn’t how you feel



This time she said nothing and went to her room
stopped talking to the boy who filled her with fumes
the thoughts of hatred and self deprecation
she knew it was time for her mum’s “education”
to see that her sickness long wasn’t all in her head
it was something deep down that started to spread

And weeks went by with planning and thought,
to show how her feelings and illness was fought,
she searched through the house for a constructive fight,
to clearly scream out what she knew was right
“Mum, I need help I don’t want to die”
but this was too late to say, the time was nigh

and finally the next day she calls for her mum
screaming “mum I’m hurt please just come”
with a relentless sigh, she walks up the stairs
to her little girls room, destroying her prayers
that her daughter was better, she wasn’t still sad
and the realisation of what she said was bad

her little girl kneeling, white and pale,
with blood on her hands, began to wail
in physical pain with emotional struggle
the mum had realised, her girl was in trouble
and picked her up and took her away
to a place where people like her could go stay.

And finally after years of trouble and fraught,
this girl knew she was allowed to be distraught…
 Jan 2016 Alisha
Kunal Kar
The pink floss and brunette eyes,
Wild smile and lavender goodbyes,
Has embraced the stains of heartbreak,
Has surrendered to the night skies.
The silly little heart tried,
To mend its way to a good night,
While the city laughed and smiled,
While for mad insomniac Elizabeth,
She cried, she cried.
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