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Alex  Jan 2018
Legos
Alex Jan 2018
I build my life up with colorful legos
I take a break and admire my work
Bright, beautiful colors
All stacked up
Then someone comes along and kicks my legos
Bright, beautiful colors
All scattered across the floor
I pick up my legos and build again, and again, and again
I'm so tired but I don't stop
I don't take breaks so no one can knock my legos down
I tell myself keep going
Yet someone still comes and kicks down my legos
But this time I don't fix it, I am too tired
And I realize, that no matter how many times I rebuild
No matter how beautiful the legos are
Someone will come knock down my life
Untill I die
Do I have to continue building?
Andrew Parker May 2014
Building Blocks (Spoken Word Poem)
5/15/2014

I played with legos when I was young.
What I didn't know was the value of those building blocks.
Putting tiny pieces of plastic together,
all different shapes, sizes, and colors.

For what?
For fun?
For structure?
For a challenge?
Because my mom told me to keep busy?
Or because that was how legos were supposed to work - together.

As I grew up, I gradually upgraded.
My legos got traded in for classmates,
for co-workers.
for bar buddies,
and even for the occasional stranger at the mall or movie theater.

They started telling their own stories:
About their first day at lego high school and making new friends.
About falling in love with their first lego boyfriend.
About going to lego prom and putting the pieces together at the after-party, if you know what I mean.
About getting dumped, but then landing their first job at the lego factory.
About shedding priceless limited edition lego tears, on stressful days.
About going through struggles where all they could do is pray to lego God.
About dreams of a nice big lego house with lego children someday.
About lego suicides, resulting from bullying in every worst kind of way.

Eventually it felt like I had opened up an expert level pack,
containing a variety so vast that I never would have guessed anybody could piece them all together.

These building blocks started to feel pretty heavy,
like bricks building a house,
I could only carry a couple in a fistful at a time.
Except they've been worn down from a life full of misuse.
Their colors faded,
edges jaded,
teeth serrated,
like an adapted mechanism for survival.
And what's worse - no mortar to piece them together.
because it all got burnt up.
A casualty of angry tempers' crossfire.
The constant collisions of verbal bullets bullying the building blocks,
bulldozing them over.
With the strength of slurs,
societies seems to blur,
all the inadequacies faced.

Without solidarity to support,
these building blocks are beginning to contemplate giving up.
But Stop!
But I don't like that.
I'll shout, "Hey little legos, remember the plan?
We should work together with your manual instructions in hand.
You were built with a scheme to be put together.
So in unison you can create an amazing structure to cherish forever."

Building blocks are resilient anyways.
Remember that time you left a lego alone?
Detached from its peers,
abandoned out on the carpet,
without the safety of its pre-fab box home?
Well the lego didn't seem to mind, I mean it turned out just fine.

Remember when you stepped on that seemingly small, insignificant lego?
Yeah, don't step on legos.
I'm sure you remember how much that ******* hurt your foot.
Change the last line to not end so abruptly.
Sydney Ann  Nov 2014
Foot Pains.
Sydney Ann Nov 2014
Legos, Legos on the ground.
Legos, Legos all around.
Stab my feet.
Got me beat.
Legos, Legos all around.
Written in big scrawling letters on a scrap of paper in the middle of the night. Legos are like the worst possible thing you could step on.
Zaynub  Apr 2014
legos again
Zaynub Apr 2014
I am a tower of Legos

as much as you can break me
you can always put me back together again

but sometimes,
it's hard to tell
if I'm broken
and I'm building myself back up
again
Or
if I've built myself so high up
that I'm just waiting to collapse
again
go on, go and try and build the highest lego tower possible. go ahead and do it right now. that success and that failure is a metaphor for life's ups and downs.
GirlOfTheSky  Nov 2014
Legos
GirlOfTheSky Nov 2014
The world is ending today,
the sky is falling in clumps.
It was just a bunch of LEGOS after all.

Nobody sees it but me
and I am alarmed.
JWolfeB  Nov 2014
Legos
JWolfeB Nov 2014
We are broken
Laying in a bin full of legos
Potential to be beautiful
To be whole again

We wait for the right hands
To mend us into something more
Than the broken body parts in the mirror
Build me into something new
Something more than myself
John Stevens  Sep 2010
legos LIE!
John Stevens Sep 2010
Author:  Kristen Stevens
Current mood:  frustrated

Anthony got a firetruck Lego set. The packaging says "ages 5-12". It also makes the claim "designed for easy building and instant play." Now I know he's only 4 but he's smart and not that far from 5 comparatively. I on the other hand am 28. Well outside the parameters age wise. Yet, this smallish box of tiny toys baffled me for over an hour. I have the directions, I've dug through the pieces, and am still mystified on occasion. As I'm searching for yet another microscopic piece of siren or whatever it was, I'm thinking..."5 years! I can't see any 5 yr-old sticking with this for this long without losing his mind. Then Mom would take it away because of the temper tantrum and never gets built. This is stupid! Where did that tiny loopy thing go?...etc" What part of an hour is "instant play" do they not own a dictionary? I could tell them.

Then once it's together, somehow Anthony keeps taking the windshield off. He's not  actively disassemble it. He's just rolling back and forth on the floor going "whoo-whoo!" Lego's the most touchy toy on the planet. Maybe he'll get some more when he's 15.
Sunday, November 01, 2009  
From my daughter, Kristen's, My mY Space, unloading about Legos.
It is missing pieces and will never be together again.
melodie foley Apr 2014
Seven year old Meghan boasted after school
that she already knew who she was to marry --
His name was Jack
and she had cold, hard facts
to back up her theory
on why he would be her perfect husband
"He's not crazy and we both like legos"

Fair enough.

if only we never grew out of our old toys,
never stopped building and re-building what got torn down
brick by brick
maybe then I'd still be hiding in the closet
kissing eddie martin with the lights off


But neither of us like legos anymore
and I guess we're both slightly crazy

Meghan will learn soon enough
that after a while you will step on too many legos
and you will have had enough
AJ  Mar 2014
Battle Scars
AJ Mar 2014
I. When I was 5, I thought recess was probably the best thing ever invented. Until the first autumn rainfall, when the sky opened up and unleashed it's sorrow unto the earth. The children were kept inside that day. As the storm thundered on around us, we ran to play on the other side of the classroom. The boys charged to the shelf with legos and blocks, while the girls lined up at the miniature kitchen. I followed them to the tiny toy oven, even though, secretly, I thought those lincoln logs looked really fun.

II. When I was 6, I thought my first grade teacher was the sweetest woman to ever have lived. Then, one day she lined us to to go outside, calling out, "Boys on one side, girls on the other" reminding of us of a divide between genders that we did not understand. Marking off differences on a checklist that none of us had read yet.

III. When I was 7, like most little girls I daydreamed of the perfect wedding. The part I played over and over in my head was my brother walking me down the aisle, "giving me away". Because even in the second grade, some part of me knew that I belonged to the men in my life.

IV. When I was 8, I learned that the praise I'd receive from the boys I called my brothers would always be conditional. No matter what award I received, how fast I ran, how tough I fought, how smart I was, I'd always be "pretty good for a girl". And that is never a compliment.

V. When I was 9, the YMCA told me I had to stop playing the sport I'd loved for 5 years because I was a girl. I took my first feminist stand by quitting, because I don't care what they say, softball and baseball are not the same thing.

VI. When I was 10, my brother informed me that the day I brought home a boyfriend was the day he bought a gun. Because that's how you protect your property.

VII. When I was 11, a boy ran up to me on the playground and told me I was cute. For a moment, I felt confident, a feeling that was foreign to me. Until the boy and his friend started laughing uncontrollably, as if they couldn't believe that I'd ever think that was true. I cried a lot that day because I hadn't yet realized that my self worth wasn't directly proportional to how many boys found me attractive.

VIII. When I was 12, my aunt gave me my first make up kit for my birthday. When my grandmother tried to force me to wear it, I refused, yelling, "It's my face!" She proceeded to tell me that I'd never get a boyfriend with that attitude. After all, who was I to want to be in control of my own body?

IX. When I was 13, I thought gym was a subject invented by sadistic hell fiends created just to torture teenage girls. It was the hottest day of the year, and I'd just ran a mile, so I opted not to change out of my tank top before continuing on to my next class. A teacher cornered me at my locker, advising me to put on a jacket before I became a distraction to the boys.

X. When I was 14, I confessed to my mother the wanderlust inside of me. Exclaiming about travelling to new places, having new experiences. That's when she looked me dead in the eye and told me to always take someone with me. Preferably, a man. I couldn't bring myself to be angry. We both knew what happened to women alone on the streets, and I felt bad for the way I made her eyes shine with worry each time I left the house without her.

XI. I am 15, and I walk with my fists clenched and my head down. I am always conscious of what clothes I wear and whether or not they could attract "the wrong kind of attention". I attempt to shield myself from the world, but I can feel my barriers cracking with each terrifying statistic, each late night news story, each girl that was never given justice. The world is a war zone, and every woman must put her armor on before walking outside. My life has been one battle after the next. I am a 15 year old war veteran, and have the scars to prove it. I've learned from my experiences and am left with just one question:

At what age does the war end?
This is very surreal, it must be a dream
Falling and falling through thick hot steam
Hitting some sort of surface, I stop to catch my breath
Wiping the sweat off my face, wondering where I am and why I feel like death
Before another thought could arise, the surface collapsed
This time falling slowly, hearing distant sounds of human gasps
Trying to stay calm as I am floating in this unknown reality
Its almost like i might have control; its my own malady
I'm starting to think I am supposed to be here
To learn, to be, not to be scared nor to fear
Sounds coming from every direction; very faint echoes
I close my eyes briefly and upon opening them I realize I'm atop giant legos  
Wanting to play, I attempt to touch the huge green one
The moment I made contact, an alarm sounded, so what do I do? I run
I ran along the giant legos for what seemed like hours
Legos now out of sight, and far in the distance, some odd shaped towers
I wanted to reach them but only empty space fed the way
A sudden fatigue came over me so I found a place to lay
As I awoke, I noticed a pathway from the towers to where I stood
How very strange, I thought, but also this is good
I make my way to these mysterious towers, finding myself in awe
The weirdest and yet beautiful buildings I had ever seen, and insanely tall
I let myself in to the nearest tower, having no clue what I may find
I open the large door, and to my surprise, the room was mine!
I am in my own bedroom, and I see myself sleeping in my bed
I walk closer to myself, and gave me a big thump on the head
Next thing I know  I am awake, and it was, indeed, a dream
Baffled and confused but learned that nothing is ever what it seems
copyright Hannah Benchetrit
A million love songs later,

A thousand romantic movies later,

I realized,

I don’t really love you like that.

I love you like shattered glass.

I love you like that wound on my palm.

I love you like pain.

I love you in so many different ways.

I love you like a dead bird.

I love you like art absurd.

I love you like slit wrists.

I love you like that bottle of phenol.

I love you in so many destructive ways.

I love you like broken hearts.

I love you like crazy ***.

I love you like my cheap whiskey.

I love you like everything that isn't meant to be.

I love you in so many ***** ways.

But  I couldn't love you any less.
Kate Lion Jan 2015
i miss you
the way Obama misses his intelligence briefings

i finally cleaned out my bedroom
threw out
all the legos i always accidentally stepped on
all of the crusty pieces of Argentine food i wasn't ready to let go of

you are a jedi
or perhaps just my best friend

some people hurt your eyes like neon when you see them

but you don't

you are nutella
and i am a butterknife
a gale  Aug 2014
Lego Dreams
a gale Aug 2014
Do you remember the simple times?
No worries, no pain, just simple glories
Of building the tallest and largest building
Just made out of bricks of colorful pieces

Each one sticking to one another
Piling up by color and size
You would put on a smile filled with pride
Whenever you finished every brick
on top another

But what did you do when you left
and came back
then all you’ve built
was broken and gone?

“Don’t cry, child, it was only legos,
time for the real thing now.”
was what you were told.
“This time, child,
don’t make your dreams
out of lego bricks.”

*a. gale

— The End —