Shaniqua Johnson: Poems

990 · Mar 2017

Shaniqua Johnson Mar 2017

She stands hard as stone.
Now in a temporary home.

The thoughts I had when writing this poem, albeit short, is that the little girl is depressed and struggling with her daily life in a place that she knows won't last because none of the rest have.
If you read it from the bottom up the girl has been 'set free' in the sense that she is now dead and the temporary home is the grave and "she stands hard as stone" the "stone" represents the head stone that marked her existence.
If you have any other way of interpreting this please let me know in the comments below.

#suicide #short #home #death #grave #bravery #stone #reversepoem

953 · Mar 2017

My Happiness

Shaniqua Johnson Mar 2017

My Happiness

Home is no longer home
if safe isn't what it is.
A child deserves nothing
but happiness.
Trading legos for bombs
and sticks for knives.

#war #home #play #children #safety #deserve #bombs #lego #toys

768 · Mar 2017

Soft, sweet and gentle.

Shaniqua Johnson Mar 2017

Soft, sweet and gentle.

Sleep sings a sweet lullaby,
whispering tender words
cushioning the erratic thoughts within my head.

Sleep sings a sweet lullaby,
resting a gentle hand on my thundering heart.
Be still my love.

Sleep sings a soft tune,
that coils itself around my fingertips
Gracing them with a numbing pain.

Sleep sings a soft tune,
that stills my heart until the beat becomes a
thud of the past.

Sleep is gentle and welcomes me to
The life thereafter.

Sleep is sweet, soft and gentle -
Waking up is not an option.

This is a poem taken from my Creative Writing portfolio ' Time is of the essence '

#love #life #death #sleep #sweet #song #soft #lullaby #gentle #tune

696 · Mar 2017

tick

Shaniqua Johnson Mar 2017

tick

Void of emotion,
fake smiles ever so slowly become my nature.
Bones to pick, pick and pick away
leaving my wall nothing more than a pile of rubble.
tick
Conflicting thoughts
flicker and flutter searching for a way out.
Anger , hurt and melancholy
merge in the pit of my stomach and out comes anxiety.
tick
Laughter?
Who’s that?
Happiness?
A headstone to mark its existence.
tick
Enduringly awaiting
  the ...
   final ...
                  tick.

This is a poem taken from my Creative Writing portfolio 'Time is of the essence'

#anger #pain #sadness #death #anxiety #fake #hurt #final #tick #conflicted

600 · Mar 2017

Senses

Shaniqua Johnson Mar 2017

Senses

Life wiped from the surface, to become no more.
Eyes gentle and shut.
Shallow breaths have all but stopped.
Eyes still gentle and shut.
Hands still, with no hope of moving.
Eyes gentle and shut.
Legs side by side each other stationary and immobile.
Eyes still gentle and shut.
Wine-coloured liquid pools around him. A toast to the life beyond.
Eyes bolted closed, to never be opened.
His eyes remain gentle and shut.

This is one of the poems taken from my Creative Writing portfolio 'Time is of the essence'

#peace #life #death #hurt #heaven #male

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