mr t - Hello Poetry

mr t Nov 2017

I used to be the sand
Going with the flow
Being tossed
However the water wanted me to be tossed
But that’s changed
I’ve decided to float off by myself
And wave the water goodbye
As I start a new life
A good life
A happy life

I never needed you anyway

mr t Nov 2017

**** it

When you see it
You’ll start to scream
It’s presence is overwhelming
You become afraid
Afraid of all the possibilities
Running through your brain
With no good outcomes
Tears flood your eyes
And flow liker
Down your pale cheeks
Your body is under the control
Of a strong fear
Nothing can be done
Until someone else kills it
You’re rescued
By a hero
A spider killing hero

One of my top fears

mr t Nov 2017

the lucky one

Some say I'm the lucky one
I have a home which comforts me
I have parents who love one another
I have a sister who is a great role model
I have friends who are special in my heart
I have abilities to run and dance
I have people who support me
I have everything provided to me

Well not everything
Not the one thing I want most

I know I'm selfish for this
I know I don't need it
But I yearn for it

I can't hold myself from wanting the one thing
That I have to stop myself from grabbing
The thing that makes me build a wall
Something to block myself
Because if not
I will strive for it
And I can't I just can't be that type of person

I tell myself "you'll live without it"
But my heart doesn't believe it
My heart longs for that extra something

I know I shouldn't
I know it's not right

But this one time
The wall is falling
One brick at a time
And there's nothing there to fix it
It can't be fixed until I'm on the other side
And I have that one special thing

They say I'm the lucky one
I have an education
I have the best pets a girl could ask for
I have clean clothes
I have a comfy bed

But I don't have the missing piece in my life
The thing that I desire

Not yet that is

I'm not the lucky one yet.

mr t Nov 2017

a pencil

When pens run out of ink
We throw them away
When pencils break
We sharpen them

When I performed my piece "not a pen" a good friend of mine told me this, and it brightened my whole day.

Nov 2017

Ashly Kocher

Strong

Why did I get this trait
To forgive so easily, never to hate
You can walk all over me
Stab me in the back
I will get angry and pull away
But I’ll always forgive and come running back
I can’t stay angry or upset with people
Which I guess is a good thing in the long run
   But
     Sometimes
           In the end
It makes you look like a weak person
Even though you are a
            STRONG
Human being for allowing yourself to be open and vulnerable
Keeping your heart open and filled with love for all you are surrounded by in you life

mr t Nov 2017

shadows

It’s nice being a shadow
Present
But not presented
Being the backdrop
Of someone else
Always below everyone else
Slowly disappearing into darkness

Not ready to be the star of a show.

mr t Nov 2017

not a pen

Smooth strokes of a pen
Creating beautiful words
Perfect calligraphy

Written by a gentle hand
Unshaken
Drawing pictures
On clean paper

Pictures of shaping moments
Times of love
Of friendship
Of little butterflies
The fluttering wings showing sweet nerves

Ink flowing into lines
Making an aesthetic piece
Simple
Yet pleasing

Courage to move the pen
Bravery to create the next movement
Aware of the imperfections

Imperfections capable of straying from the perfect art
A splatter in the ink
A shake in the hand
A shift in the paper

Creating change
Change bringing possibilities
To do something new

Being a different type of beautiful
Force of going with the mistakes
Not being able to erase the marks
The shaping marks

But I’m not a pen
I don’t have the courage
I am afraid of change
Afraid of straying from the norm
Making my own creations

I am a pencil
A cautious pencil
Opportunity to hide mistakes
Opportunity to break in two
Opportunity to be written over

But it’s okay
I am a good pencil
I’ll let others be pens
Bold
Beautiful
Breathtaking
Pens

Every moment matters to me
My heart and soul are too fragile
And I can’t erase
What has been written by a pen

This is me.

— The End —