I see you in the Fall
The red leaves whipping in the wind like your hair flowing behind you.
The chaotic movement connect to something
strong
sturdy
safe.
I see you in the fall.
The wind screaming in my ear
like you when the schizophrenia kicked in
terrifying
but beautiful
in a broken sort of way.
I see you in the fall.
Like the flowers that bend towards the slightest glimmer of sunlight
just as you would hold onto any ray of hope that came your way
like it was the last time you'd see it
I see you in the fall
as the trees show their branches
it leaves falling like your hair did
Beautiful
despite it's baldness
I saw you in the fall.
But now it's winter and like the leaves on the trees
You are gone.

When I grow up
I want the world to be happy
Because as of now
It is not

For you see
This world is shrouded in hatred
And love can be bought

All around conveyed love is being traded for physicality

As the players get stronger
And the girl
She cried out to a diety
She doesnt even believe in

Because he left her
Broken
Bruised
And
Pregnant

Leaving her for another girl
One with a bigger rack
And ***
Even though she shook hers
Every night on stage
Baring her body for strangers

Only so when she goes home
He can unleash his rage
So she gives him her money
And he loosens his grip on her
Freshly
Dyed
Hair

Then he'll pretend to care
As he invests her money in his new Jordans
Instead of rehab for his
Crack head lover.

because he never loved her.
If he did He wouldnt be saying
"That baby isn't mine."
So he can spend more time
With the new girl by his side.

A girl who's snorting coke
And lets strangers hands
Travel up her bruised thighs

I Cant be happy seeing this world in this disgruntloed state

Because A young boy hangs up
A flowery dress in a closet full of
dusty skirts and heels

His moms attempt at making him
"Normal"

Because what you don't know is he was born a She
But she wants to be a he
And he doesnt know somewhere out there
A he wants to be a she

But they feel more alone
As their parents threaten to send them to camps
In failed attemps to make them
"Okay" In the eyes of
Their God

So he lays in bed
Blood pouring from his
Self inflicted wounds
One for every missed label
As they call him a her
Or he a she

But they don't see it
"It's just a pronoun right?"
Maybe to you
Because you haven't fought
your whole life
To be called something few
are open eyed enough to see you as.

But he can see it clearly
as he pins back his hair
and puts on his binder

Alexandra is just 15 years old and also my youngest rosebud. In my humble opinion she's writing in a fashion that is way beyond her years.
For her life hasn't been to good lately and I would ask all of you to support her writing.
This is one girl with a great future

Joe

When I started this it was Young Poets Write For Me. But the response was something different.
I'd seen so many talented young writers become trapped in a one way street without any avenue of escape.
Well hopefully I've given you that avenue.
With virtually every challenge I receive PM's saying I can't do that when in truth you can.
Everyone of you who writes is brilliant in their own way
But
The horizon is wide and deep so broaden your own horizon


For all the rosebuds waiting to bloom

The wisdom of years is only an extension of the vitality of youth

At my best,
I am still the worst of sinners.