I* don't have much to say...

Which is the hardest part of all.

The bigger the love
the farther I fall.

This is a stumble,
wont crumble at all.

Fumbled a bit
but recovered the ball.

You couldn’t look me in the eye
or try a goodbye?

You said that it’s too hard
and you know you would cry.

But what about me?
What if goodbye was a need?

You took it all away
with all of your greed.

And you know that it’s true,
it’s all about you.

If not,
then the tears,
will make their way through.

I don’t hate you,
but I'm starting anew.

**You took my goodbye so I bid you adieu.

Why don't you look at me?

Why don't you see all the things that I see?

Why is all this unclear to you but not to me?

Why don't you look at me?

Why don't you feel the things that I felt?

Why haven't you held the burden's I've held?

why won't you look at me
why do you ignore the tears I do cry
why do you chase after time I cannot bide

why won't you look at me?
why won't you look at the face you've painted?

Aren't you proud of your work?

Changing my world's gravitation into your world's,
so you are the sole center of my universe

Aren't you happy with how I hurt?

Making me feel as though I am not real,
not really my own abode

Why won't you look at me?
*Aren't you *happy with your work?

My old favorite underwear
Missing, probably trashed
You wouldn't approve, wouldn't dare
I have to always look pretty,
Even if I have to ***,
Always have to wear something that shows me off
When I really just want to wear ******* socks
You want ****, hot,
Lacey aught
To do the trick, right?
Can't I just wear my
Fruit of the Loom old underwear?
Why do I have to follow your rules?
*******, you're a fool
You can't make me do anything,
So I won't do anything for you

Oh that poem!
A plain masterpiece!
An eye for the blind!
Beyond what my limited words can describe!
Glory be to he who wrote this breathtaking beauty!
But I am left speechless and confused
Once I see the simple number of its likes and views
I guess that's what makes it so special
A diamond unseen
A hidden potential.
And he continues to write...
As if poetry was his only friend.
I guess he already accepted the fact that
*we cannot always trend

Children are dying...
I'm kicking back, with nothing to complain about, yet complaining.
While *children are dying
I'm dancing
to my favourite song with my pals and sisters.

While they bleed because of the blisters
caused by the wood of their broken homes.
Unheard screams and groans
Getting ***** by strange misters.
Bombs and grenades fall like raindrops from the sky

BOOM BOOM BOOM! The soundtrack of their lives
An endless lullaby
And they cry
and cry.
But I can't hear them,
for the music in my room is too loud.


                                    Children are dying*.