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Medinah Aousunt Aug 2015
We have caked our wounds with love
And hidden our pain with laughter.
It's the way we cope with tragic disaster.
Poem Created by Medinah Aousunt
Medinah Aousunt Aug 2015
We are all dead
buried in this grave of life
Constantly gasping for air
searching for the light
secretly dreading the end of sorrow
where everything is right.
We are all dead
cremated by the beauty of this hideous fire
the one we ironically call life.
Poem Created by Medinah Aousunt
Medinah Aousunt Aug 2015
I’ve tasted blood and pain, received scars and bruises, cuts and stabs.
I’ve wasted tears for years felt the knife pierce my back from all the wrong peers.
I’ve wallowed in pity and self-sorrow, looked up at the stars and dreaded my tomorrow.
I’ve seen loved ones maimed by the hand of abuse, hanged by the noose of sadism,
***** by the constraint of religion, killed by the gun of fear.
I’m in a constant acrimonious battle with my mind’s eye to let the past fade,
Let the horrors haze, but they only get stronger leaving a bitter after-taste.
Despite the pressure building inside me, you are the light that set me free,
You are the star that guide me.
You keep my mind looking towards the future and when I look back tear filled eyes as the demons creep back from underneath it is you with the softest touch turning my head by the cheek and with the gentlest of the gentlest kisses it is you who unite me.
Poem Created by: Medinah Aousunt
Medinah Aousunt Aug 2015
I don't know how to write poetry;
It's hard to liberate my mind.
I don't know how to write poetry;
can't ruminate a single line.
I don't know how to write poetry;
all the good ones rhyme.
I don't know how to write poetry;
(I just have to find the time.)
Poem by: Medinah Aousunt
Medinah Aousunt Aug 2015
I have heard many times
"No one's perfect," but that's a misconception.
Everyone is perfect  in their own way.
You are perfectly you and I'm perfectly me.
poem by Medinah Aousunt
  Aug 2015 Medinah Aousunt
niamh
Silenced, in awe,
They watched her paint,
Bringing life to a canvas.
Bold colours
And fierce brushstrokes.
They marvelled at her masterpiece.
Me, I watched her face as she painted,
The emotions sweeping over her,
Bringing life to the canvas she was.
And I was humbled
And I was in awe
And I marvelled
At the true masterpiece.
Medinah Aousunt Jul 2015
So much I want to say but that old demon is there again holding my tongue in place.

So much I want to do, but that heavy ball and chain are causing me much strain.

See I don't  let my emotions get the best of me, but it's not my emotions that's the problem really.

It's the grip I hold on for tomorrow, head way in the clouds fill my reality with sorrow.

My negativity weigh me down, but a heavy head wears the crown.

I'm my own worst enemy; I fight wars and battles deep within me.

If I catch a glimpse  of my future,  I run and hide beneath the covers, afraid what fraction of my past may no longer be a mystery.
Poem Created by Medinah Aousunt
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