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Sayedda F G Apr 2014
When I start writing
I feel like It'll never end
sobbing my way through it
all the way, until the end
Sayedda F G Apr 2014
I watch her as she cries
and as she sinks to the floor
she sobs herself to sleep
reminds me, shes so much like me

of course she is,
she is my mother
But mother's love,
and care
and don't abuse their daughters

i wonder why she does
why she does just that
because she knows i hate the pain
inflicted on my calve

We are so much alike
i just noticed that
both childhoods ruined by eachother

when she was seventeen
she had me

now Im 13
pain crashing through my body
Sayedda F G Apr 2014
We’re separated,
treated like toys.
We’re confisticated,
they think they’re one of the higher boys.

To be so stereotypical,
is nothing to be proud about.
To be so hypocritical,
is something you shouldn’t carry out.

We cry for justice,
in need of help.
We can't ride on busses.
all we do now is yelp.

We can’t drink water at just any fountain
they think they’re higher than the tallest mountain.
We can’t eat food at just any counter
but they don’t realise they’re just regular old towners.

We’re like people who by law,
are supposed to feel left out.
So many mistakes and flaws,
need to be fixed, no doubt.
Sayedda F G Mar 2014
They're judgemental
They assume to much
misunderstanding my actions

They dont know what ive lived through
dont know what ive done
dont realise im in pain

assuming they know everything bout me
assuming they know why i cry
assuming that lifes good

they know nothin bout me

judging me by my actions
thinking they know why i do what i do

when u called me a terrorist
my cousin died of a terrorist act that day

But you didnt know that
Cuz u know nothin bout me

When I wanted to die
You said that i was crazy

When I ran away
Sayedda F G Mar 2014
One chilly autumn night,
her mother struck her with a knife.
Tears pouring down her face,
blood gushing with all its strength.
Sayedda F G Mar 2014
When she was born
Her mother wished the world,
had collapsed that day.

AS she grew up
Her mother would hit her
Swearing she would **** her, one of these days

She fought the anger
lived the pain
listened to all the sadness

She was neglected
like an abused dog
She was hurt
with a black hole in her heart

She felt unimportant
so she couldn’t live
She tried so hard
as hard as she could go

But she couldn’t do it,
couldn’t take it
and still can’t
live the pain anymore

So she tried
with a knife
with a rope
She tried so hard to die

Get it over with
She would say
Your not needed anyway

Her mother was pregnat
A baby in her womb, a girl
Maybe people did need her

But she was still strong
A surviver
fighting anything that came her way

A warrior
going through all that pain

Her sister was born
Grandpaents in America
Friends by her side

LIfe was good


One chilly autumn night
Her mother struck her with a knife

Blood gushing with all its streinghth
Tears pouring down her face

The world truly ended that day
To her

All the love


All the hope


Replaced with
crying over sleep
Depression over sleep
Permanet scars for life

Her childhood takin away that day
Her happiness erased
LOve was expired

And as she sits here writing this today,                                 (3/6/14)
a mix of emotions fill her up

Cause’ everythings changed
Shes expired
NO use for anybody anymore

not wanting to believe it
but knowing its true

they make it clear nowadays
throwing things at her

teasing her
never ending hate

its all stupid
the way she thinks of it

People cry when they listen to her story
hug her
kiss her
tell her they care
tell her they love her

she wants to believe it’but its not true
Sayedda F G Mar 2014
Do I even matter anymore?
to anybody
I’ve been peoples firsts
and their last

First friend
first love

Last person to see
Last person to care about

Could they care less?
cuz theres nothing to care about

just a poor helpless girl

not needed

if only they knew


but they don;t
cuz nobodys got time for that, right?

sitting here
writing this today

staring at my fiingers typing

these hands don’t mean anything

hands of hers

why do i care so much
why me?

why am i so caring?

— The End —