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joel jokonia Oct 2017
u only know the sound was too much after it stops
but for now do enjoy the music and hope it doesnt..
  Oct 2017 joel jokonia
Taylah
One Person
Two Person
White Person
Black Person

Asian Person
Indian Person
Old Person
New Person

This one has no food to eat,
This one has a war to beat.
Say! What a lot of people there are.

Some are dead,
Some have no bed,
Some even have no roof over their head.

But why are they
Separated from each other?
I wouldn’t know,
Go ask another.

Some are thin,
Some are tall,
Some are fat,
And some can even be quite small.

From there to here, from here to there.
Trump wants to create walls,
So, we can’t travel anywhere.

To get water,
Some have to travel,
Barefoot, on sharp gravel.
For miles and miles
They have to travel.



White, Black, White, Black.
White, Black, White, Black.
All distinguished from the colour of their back.

Some have two friends,
Some have one,
Some have ten friends,
Some have none.

Where do we come from?
A long, long way.
From a war place,
Come here to be safe.

We see them come,
We see them go.
Some come legally,
Some come by boat.

Some are tall,
And some are short.
We’re all different,
But we’re all human.
Yet, we’re singled out,
Just because we’re men or women.

Why?!
Is it okay to scream and shout?
Lesbian, Straight, Bi or Gay.
Is it good to call someone out?
Did you think it was okay?

Black, White, Old, New,
Gay, Straight, Man, Woman,
Asian, Indian, American, African,
Don’t you realise we’re all human?

Human!
It’s not a reason to be rude,
Just because I am different to you.
Inspired/ Based off Dr Seuss' One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.
  Oct 2017 joel jokonia
guro
i watched you take every piece of me and shove them into your mouth. simply put, i watched you devour me. my essence, my personality; all that was left was you, your hands, my hands like your hands around my own throat pretending they were your hands.

  i don't know what i mistook it for.

  i don't know how i could have.

  could you explain this to me? you, the crow on my window sill, watching me peck my eyes out with the corners of my fists (pretending it was you, it was you, it was you, pretending it was me pretending it was you) like i am mad, i am terribly, terribly crazy. i won't say hello to you; you can **** us both to hell.

  i poured my blood in a cup for you.

  does it make sense now?

  the way you held it with your black black nails clicking against the side, something awful like chalk on a chalkboard or maybe a marker on a chalkboard, it's all the same; in my head you're the bad one.

  i poured my blood in a cup for you and i watched you ****** it out of my hands and i watched you take the whole of me, my eyes, my ears, my brain, the pieces of grey matter that shouldn't be grey matter. you smashed the cup on the ground. it was a nice cup, what a waste.

  do you want a prize? do you want an award for pretending you weren't the bad one?

  (you're the bad one, i keep telling myself. you were bad. you were bad. am i bad? or at least share the blame, you know, we're both...)

  ask the people in the past who hurt you, who dug their nails into your skin and refused to let go and dug them in further until all that was left of you were the places their fingernails had been, tell me, report with your findings: am i bad? am i bad? (were you bad?)
joel jokonia Oct 2017
they say um a kid,
i am out of control
i say yes
i am OUT of it all

this OUTfit i wear
is the OUTcome of the places i been
and its OUTstanding
as i OUTburst every emotion into words
i am OUT of my mind

but dont mind me
my OUTrage got me here
OUTsourcing life right out of earth

so you OUTdated if you ever think i am coming in
i am staying OUT
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