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76 · May 7
Alone
Khadi Alza May 7
A little girl all alone,
With no place to call home.
Her red shoes the only thing she owns,
Given to her by a grumpy old gnome.
74 · Apr 28
Burned UP Passion
Khadi Alza Apr 28
The skies are grey,
My mind, now blank.
I cannot go another day,
Staring into this empty plank.

It shouldn't be dull and grey,
Cause it should be a colourful array!
For me to be proud of,
But now, I'd rather give it a shove.

But what happens when that fire inside you dies?
What happens then?
Do you have to keep telling them lies
And asking yourselves when?

Or maybe the fire hasn't died,
Dimmed is all. I thought it lied.
For a passion like this, don't disappear,
Maybe it's hiding itself under the pier.

But the fire inside you does die.
One day,
Someday.
And I'm afraid that day is near.
73 · Jul 11
Corrupt-A-Wish
Khadi Alza Jul 11
I wish to be as swift as the wind,
Winning gold in every race I’m in.

Granted!
But everyone expects you to win,
Giving you bricks of pressure with a grin.

I wish to make an endless flow of poems,
That tickles your insides and feels like home.

Granted!
But you are blinded by your talent,
Thinking it’s a rough sounding accent,
While everyone’s mind screams brilliant.

I wish to be as great as my friends,
And having those glittering events
— Like them.

Granted!
But you will never feel like enough,
Wondering if they ever had it tough.

I wish I will achieve my dreams,
Dreams as clean as my seams.

Granted!
But you don’t know that dreams of yours
Until you open the right door.

I wish…
Granted! But…

I wish…
Granted! But…

I wish…
Granted! But…

CAN’T I JUST HAVE MY WISH???
I guess I can’t
72 · Jun 11
Ukulele Boy
Khadi Alza Jun 11
Ukulele boy,
Holding his favourite toy,
Playing a merry tune
That might as well make me
S
      w
           o
                o
                      n
He plucks at the strings;
In reply, it sings,
Its voice echoing
                                across
                  ­                             the
                                                         stadium—

Muffled by the roaring cheers around him.
A guy was playing the ukulele the other day at the place where I go to my running class. His tunes caught my eye—oops, I mean ear.
72 · May 7
exhaustion
Khadi Alza May 7
My body aches,
My eyes droop.
Legs on fire,
Arms no use.

Energy low,
Yet I push my self.
Then, COLLAPSE!
Into your arms.

You hold me close,
Yet it’s not use.
My whole body’s on fire.
Hope I don’t burn you too…
65 · Jun 18
Sonder
Khadi Alza Jun 18
The fact
That every single one of us here
Has our own

C
     o
        m
             p
                 i
                     l
                          i
                               c
                                     a
                                           t
                                                e
             ­                                          d  


lives, thoughts, ideas, experiences.

And that everyone here is just a stranger—
NPCs in our lives.
The only person who feels real is you.
You can never be in their shoes. Never.

But still, their life is as complicated as yours:
As vivid.
As complex.
As challenging.

All those people we pass by,
Their lives a colourful, multicoloured thread,
Woven together—
Yet it doesn’t seem so...
( 𝖓. ) 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒 𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖇𝖞 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖛𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖝 𝖆𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖔𝖜𝖓
54 · Apr 6
A Spell Of Courage
Khadi Alza Apr 6
What is it, my dear?
Why is there a tear,
Glistening down your cheek.
What is it, dear child, do you seek?

Oh, fairy godmother!
It is they, they're the bother!
With their snobbish attitude,
Leaving me here, in solitude.

They make my heart aches,
While I give them smiles that are all fakes.
They don't listen to me!
You see,
They cut my words like a dagger,
Which makes them the ragger!

Life with them is tough
And if I try to talk, they'll scoff.
So I just keep quiet,
While they make a nonsense riot.

Fairy godmother, I beg of you,
To cast a spell that's true,
That would help me
And set me free.

Oh, that, my dear, I can.
But here's the plan:
You follow after me,
For saying what I say is the key.

Let your voice roar like thunder,
And not carelessly blunder.
Let you stand tall like a mountain in the storm,
With your bravery taking form.

Say what you need to say,
For how else would they change their ways?
Let them hear you roar like a lion,
So you'd stand out like Orion.

With words of strength and a heart of gold,
Let courage take flight, and make you bold.
37 · Jun 24
Always...
Khadi Alza Jun 24
always the poet,
      never the poem.

always the writer,
   never the story.

always the photographer,
   never the picture.

always the dreamer,
   never the dream.

for once...
                  could i be the muse?

the one in the photo,
                                     the poem,
                                                       the story,
                                                          ­              the dream.
or at
         least
                  the
                        inspiration.
­the one
              that
                      would
                                   be held
                                                 in
                                                      memory.
22 · 2d
Error, Error
Click click click,
Click click click,
Click click clic-
Error.

Error.

Error.

Lens can't retract.
Error.

You sit there,
Silently.
Back arched,
The broken object in your hands.
Turning it around,
Willing it to be fixed.

While I watch,
As the black ball of thread
Inside me tightens,
And my breath? I hold it.
Waiting,
Waiting for you to strike.
To say something.
Anything.

Or at least say the words,
The mind has been saying to me.
The words I've been thinking of,
Ever since I came back home
with that broken thing you love.

But no.
You sit there silently,
Leaving me to wonder what you mean,
As my heart thrums ever so slightly.
19 · 6d
paper boats
Carrying your shoes
to my house.
To eat
up
and choke on.
While I cry
a river of tears,
and fold paper boats.
Hoping it'll reach u,
hiding the secrets I never told.
19 · Jul 25
Out Of My Control
Khadi Alza Jul 25
The horror on my face
when I saw your furrowed brows,
concentrated on the object in hand.
The object I gave to you,
knowing you would take care of it.

You look up to me sheepishly,
the look of guilt on your face.
That guilt transferred over to me,
but its power multiplied and strengthened,
into a scribble of black in my chest,
tangled and knotted together
making it harder for me to breathe.

I walked over to you,
hoping that this isn't true
as the knots of black thread began to tangle more,
into a huge knotted ball.

I took what I gave to you,
willing my shaky hands to mend it,
but no use...
The tangle of thread rises,
creeping its way up my throat
to behind my eyes, begging to be released,
to flow down my cheek.
But I resisted, for if I let it loose
then what...?

Yet the ball of thread grows,
somehow producing thorns.
Thorns that pierce my skin,
almost proding from the inside out.

For the object I gave you
was never mine to begin with.
Like you, I was entrusted with it.
Now we both face the same consequences,
of shame,
of guilt,
and the trust we gained
                                               b
                                                      r
       ­                                                      o
        ­                                                       ­       k
                                                        ­      ­                e
                                         ­                                             n  
Now I lie here,
heart trembling,
hand shaking,
beads of sweet falling down my head.
Waiting
for the punishment that I'll receive.

A punishment for something out of my control,
out of yours too.
But I know it's not your fault.

A punishment out of our control.
A punishment out of our control.
A punishment out of our control.
Romantising a minor problem, that's totally fixable,
but just felt really scary at the moment.
0 · Jul 19
Pearls
Khadi Alza Jul 19
Smooth, shining orbs
Beneath my fingers—
Like marble-sized moons;
Small, mysterious, like a small, dazzling smile.

Once someone's treasure,
Now washed upon my shores.
In my hands,
Now in my bag,
Kept away from the Caribbean blue sky,
Salt-chlorine mixed sea,
And the seasoned breeze.

While the mermaids wail
For a piece of them, now gone—
Gone into my bag:
Smooth, damp pearls,
Holding their dearest memories—
No longer theirs to hold.

— The End —