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 Sep 2016
Denxai Mcmillon
Remember;
things get better.
Little
Large
Relevant
Nonsequester

Work for it
Set little goals

Question your motives.

Beat yourself up for mistakes you make
So that you are the reason you grow stronger

Live for you.
Please no one
 Sep 2016
Yggy
75 cents
On the cold road;

Lost, forgotten.


No,

Left there.

Given a kiss
Of hot asphalt,

To linger,
Unforgiven,

For it is
just a road,
  
    now.
 Sep 2016
Matt
There's money
Profits to be made

And I don't have the money
Or a steady job

Why should I care?

I'm living off
The fat of the land

I'll work some

But never 40 hours a week
It doesn't interest me
 Sep 2016
J Robert Fallon III
When your mind is caught and scrambled about, and grenades pop off you scream the ****** shout.

Whatever your fear for whatever cause, you must be able to sit still and give life a pause.

Don't be afraid to resist the urge, technology has made the need to talk more; we're in need of a purge.
 Sep 2016
ryn
My teacher once asked
a short simple question.
She had asked,
"What do you want to be?"
Raised arms answered her query.
Open palms each belonging to excitable children.

Wide little eyes looked up at her.
Hands began to flail in the air...
Ever so hopeful of being chosen.
So that they could voice their aspirations.
So that they could begin to share.

One by one,
they each was given the opportunity.
Turn by turn,
boastful were some
while others spoke quiet and shyly.

Then the teacher stopped short.
Not before expressing her delight.
She was in awe of such young minds...
Having had such great wings
to eventually take flight.

Then she explained...
What she had initially meant.
Confused looks all around including me.
She rephrased the question,
"What kind of person...
Do you want to be?"


There was silence.
No arms shot up to meet the subject.
I don't recall having raised mine,
but I remember telling the teacher...
An answer (I was confident), she wouldn't expect.

I stood at my desk,
proud and tall...
And told the teacher
that I wished to be a person...
Well loved by all.

She smiled and I did too.
I felt it was a good answer.
She nodded to signal for me to take my seat again.
She paused before speaking,
and not a moment later.

She said,
"That would be nice.
To be loved by all.
But that's close to impossible.
A big wish for someone so small."


I had heard her words clearly...
However I didn't understand.
My brows furrowed...
And I was deep in thought...
Still I couldn't comprehend.

28 years later...
Here I sit,
looking back to that time in the past.
How time flies...
It simply ticked away...
All too fast.

Till just then I was still that boy...
Who tried hard to please.
I wanted to prove that it wasn't impossible.
You can be loved by everyone,
and you can do it with ease.

But now I have learnt.
Now I have found meaning
and understanding in my teacher's wisdom.
It took me a while but...
I know now...
That wishes and reality don't work in tandem.

You can choose to care and love,
everyone you see.
But to expect everyone to love you the same...
Is sheer
impossibility.
.
You can't please everyone in life.
When you work around people, you're bound to step on some toes...
Whether intentionally or not.

Dedicated to my primary school teacher
and all the teachers out there. A tad early but...
Happy Teachers Day.
.
 Sep 2016
Atrisia
i'm a long way from home,
life sends me afloat through time,
it disrupts the foundation of my fears,
cools down the effect of my bad decision
swirls around my achievements in celebration,
rises above problems i need not face.
I'm at peace, yet still a long way from home.

my being turns to vapour,
i can't find me
reappears upon a throne of my great deeds
i am at ease.
the past, a heap of success upon success
the future, a cotton candy ball of opportunity
its like disaster is an unproven theory,
 Sep 2016
J Robert Fallon III
Commit ****** then flip an ounce, a nonchalant verse that promotes the internal joust, with
pride earned as the only badge that counts.

Tap the snare drum for a bar, or vibing melody,
our backwards society stereotypes "thugs" as, "what drugs are they selling me?"

Rap is art in raw form,
intended to excite the youth who see death as a norm, the daily street storm.

Women de-humanized for a buck,
men taught to only treat them good if they **** and don't run out of luck.

The concrete jungles can only have just one king upon a throne, as the vicious cyclone continues destroying futures of the youth unless they succeed in the booth.

Youth commit ****** then flip an ounce,
pride earned needs to be denounced.
 Sep 2016
esther
it has been one year since my ****.
it has been one year since my ****.
it has been one year since my ****.

every day and every day after gets worse.
every day and every day I see more and more how I was not wrong.
every day and every day I see more and more how I was.

it has been one year since my ****.
it has been one year since my ****.

sometimes I see boys on the street.
sometimes my eyes linger on their faces, their lips
sometimes I picture their faces, their lips on mine
sometimes I forget that I shrink away at a man's glance
sometimes I forget that I shrink away at a man's touch

it has been one year since my ****.
It has been one year since my ****.

my friends and my darlings scream out at injustice
they scream at a man who did what another man did to me
they say he didn't serve enough jail time
my friends and my darlings don't know that the man who touched me served no jail time
my friends and my darlings do not know that he walks free
free to live, free to harm, free to not be haunted
by the things he did to me

it has been one year since my ****.
it has been one year since my ****.

at moments I want to scream it from the rooftops
at moments I want to carve it into my flesh
at moments I want everyone,  everyone to know how I was hurt and left bleeding, (figuratively and literally) and naked (literally and figuratively) in a cold basement of a boy I did not know
at moments I want to say
'I WAS HURT (figuratively and literally) AND I AM IN PAIN (literally and figuratively) AND I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO HEAL'
these moments pass

it has been one year since my ****.
it has been one year since my ****.

every day and every day it gets better.
every day and every day it gets worse.
every day and every day I drag my hurt behind me like an anvil on a string
every day and every day and every day after that.

it has been one year since my ****.
it has been one year since my ****.
 Sep 2016
m i a
i remember
being pure and free
but it all stopped eventually
and slowly
,
society
reality
parents
teachers
peers
and more things begin to pressure me
,
but i guess
i should be thankful
for these things have
greatly changed me,
to the beautiful diamond i've
come to be.
i still don't know if they changed me in a good way or a bad way.
 Sep 2016
Danielle Laurén
i am the archangel of mediocrity
clothed in layers of sorrow
cursed to a life of striving
chasing after repentance

my bones creak like an old oak floor
laden with a heavy dose of shame
rid me of my inadequacies, i plead
they suffocate me like a plague

make my sick heart beat again
fill my lungs with life not death
let the blind see light once more
forgive me father for i have sinned
 Sep 2016
Ashleigh Da Silva
i don't remember the second name of the girl i first loved.
nor do i remember the colour of her eyes.
i don't remember what it was that made me fall so hard for her,
or what her first words were to me.
i don't remember how she smells or what brand of cigarettes she smoked or how her hair felt beneath my fingertips.
or how her lips tasted in the morning
or what we spent long nights arguing about.
i don't remember these things when i'm surrounded by newer, better people; or when i'm drinking coffee on a Sunday mornings.

but ever so often the world goes quiet and the newer people disappear into the outside world and i remember it all.
i wish i didn't, but i do.
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