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Lajah Apr 2014
I am falling in a pond of my own insecurities,
sinking below the deepest end into a level of non-existence.
Help me, I can't swim!
But there is not a soul that can hear my presence.
So I sink.
I keep going further down as I watch the people around me
and I pretend to float.
I say that I am okay, but I am not.
The water is flowing through my nose and through  my body as I  submerge.
And then, I am at ease.
I see rays of the sun shinning down on my soulless corps,
remembering the flashes of beautiful memories
in attempt to forget the ones that brought me to this pool of sorrow.
I fell into my pond of insecurities,
why was I the one who volunteered?
Lajah Apr 2014
Calling all day dreamers,
Keep your eyes shut
Don’t ever open them to this brainwashed society
Grip onto your soul before they come to take it away
Hide all your thoughts for they are quite possessive
Remind yourself that to be different in a world full of copies
Is to be a diamond in a pond full of rocks
Hold onto your heart as they come around with a hammer
Picture a daisy instead of the trash they all left behind
Imagine it is all just a fiction to numb the pain
Pretend the hurt in the world can all be cured with a band aid
Attempt to smile even when there is nothing worth smiling
Stay dreaming in this beautiful nightmare
Find the good hidden beneath these restless souls
Wear your crown of flowers although you are nothing but a peasant
Dance until the judgement is felt around the room
Calling all day dreamers,
Don’t ever wake up.
Don't open your eyes.
Lajah Apr 2014
Mirror mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of them all?

If I change my physical image,
How far can I go without causing too much damage?

Mirror mirror if I shrink,
Will they stop and make them think?

Mirror mirror what if I hide
the real me that I keep inside?

Mirror mirror is it worth these tears
To hide away in constant fear?

Mirror mirror on the wall,
When will society stop this brawl?

I killed someone dont you see,
That little girl I once called me.

For I am young and I am me,
I am the one who is best to be.
I apologize for the amount of cheesiness in this poem..  
My five year old sister tolled me one day that she didn't think she was beautiful, that broke my heart. It made me think of what the next generation will look like after being influenced my us. This poem represents a child's story to hopefully create the image of a child saying it, thoughts?
Tap
Lajah Feb 2016
Tap
I will wait
and ache the pain
of leftover words
and unstable remains

And I heard feet tapping.
to the beat
humming this song
played on repeat.

I will hold grip
to what you said
when your mind was hazy
waiting for bed.

And I heard feet tapping
to this lingering song.
It is getting much louder
and I seem less strong.

I don’t think Ill fall
in love again
but I will forgive you.
Forget what I said

They skipped a beat
and the song kept going
they lost the tempo
but the world kept spinning.

I know you believe
I am to blame
but i am tired of giving
all to my name.

does this song move too fast
or I go too slow
The beat is everywhere
my head will soon blow.

So I guess they're right;
it is my mind that you reign.
Time for I to walk
before I go insane.

insane.
….

This song

oh this song

stop the music

it hurts to hear

the truth.
We have all been there.
Lajah Apr 2014
There will be a day when you will stay in your room for the entire night and feel your heart throb from whatever problems you have been phased with. I want you to feel the pain and agony of being broken. I want you to look up begging for help but nobody being there for you. I want you to sob your eyes until they are all dried out. This may sound harsh but this is feelings that are better off healing themselves instead of becoming dependent on someone else's happiness. Maybe after you do this you will have an epiphany. You will look down at your wavy brown hair and think about how small your problem truly is. Then you will learn how to mend your broken soul. Once you do so, I allow you to come out of your cocoon of misery and learn how to fly.
Lajah Apr 2014
I have this friend who lives in between my lungs
and decides to whom and how I show expression.
As my breaths grew larger, the space for her shrunk,
so she moved away.
She waits upon my sleeves preparing itself to pounce
unto the sleeves of another.
She attempts to jump but those people who have the nicest and thickest sleeves
always walk away watching as she falls to the ground and shatters.
She is too dependent. I must teach her to love herself;
she does not see the beautiful things she already has.
Those people with other long sleeves have their own problems,
they can’t handle her's.
She is too gullible.
I feel pity for her, for she will never be loved.
This was my feelings of the day. If you have not deciphered this the way I have, my little friend is my heart. I just wanted to write something about my feelings today so pardon how sloppy it is. Another thing I wanted to point out was that when I say with other long sleeves, that signifies mostly because of the type of the people who always were long sleeves are those with secrets beneath them. I am stating that is my type. Thoughts please?
Lajah Feb 2016
And the bird, he sang
to a rotting beat
behind missiles and prickles
and bombs thrown in the wind.

But the bird, he sang
to a lost melody
of the lack of humanity
who foreshadowed tragedy.

He whistled all he could
but the gun beat seemed to rule
and he sang to ignore,
to deny transition.

And the bird, he silenced.
The last bird flew away
up to the stars
where all the civilised remain.
Just wrote it, open to interpretation and comments for improvement!!!!

— The End —