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Adulthood daunting, calling, taunting.
Empty applications haunting.
Heartbeat thudding in my chest,
Through one more standardized test.

Fear ascending, never-ending.
Transcripts somehow aren't sending.
Catch me dangling off the edge,
Scrambling, I can't feel my legs.

Time interfering, disappearing,
Ground beneath my feet, commandeering.
Lungs burning, filling with water.
Panic prepping me for slaughter.

Indecision, like a prison.
One path splintered by division.
College here, or college there,
Growing up is a nightmare.
Warm August rain fell upon the ***** chalk-smeared sidewalk
dampening our youthful spirit with each drop.
Children quickly ran towards home
seeking shelter from the precipitous change in the weather.

It was the enemy of childhood;
Teeming water that could ruin even the most pleasant summer afternoon.
Fussily we'd wait,
carefully listening to the pitter patter on the rooftops.

Even then the noise was harassingly familiar,
like the sound of a clock's hands winding,
cautioning us that our time was being squandered while we waited.

Then just as quickly as it started the downpour would come to a sudden halt,
the sun would peak its warm face through the blanket of lifeless clouds,
and the streets would return to life;
resurrected just as quickly as they'd died.

But how many minutes had been spent?
Spent waiting for the rain to stop?

Quickly we learned that time, not rain was the true enemy;
the enemy we could not see, the one we could not feel,
the one from which there was no shelter,
and that at some point there would be no home to run back to.
I'm dragging a mountain
                                        down with me,
To those depths and
                                                       below this sea.
my son shall be a reflection of me with the mirror being his mother. he will have my eyes and his mothers heart, my brains but his mothers demeanor. we all know he’ll need it. the courage will come from us both because your mother is a warrior as am i. we fight. never let them see you down son, if you fall remember: gravity centers lowest to the ground, you shall gather yourself up and stand strong. and when the waves come crashing because they will, when they crash just know that you are a warrior. there is no mountain big enough in comparison to your potential, no storm loud enough to quite your spirit and no accolade too great to make you gloat. my son, you were made under the shield of love, so you shall forever be protected. never let anyone tell you otherwise. when you see a man down keep your arms outstretched, warriors can fight for the less fortunate too, but stand proudly in your body. and when they ask why you are who you are you simply respond: I am a reflection of my father in the mirror of my mother.
From my 2016 Poetry Collection: The Writers Room (Available on Amazon/Barnes&Noble)
Josiah Ruth Oct 7
Becoming an adult is the greatest trick I fell for, happened faster than taking my first step
Never wished life to be unfair to childhood memories
The promises and games I have forgotten some I try to recreate
Out of reach, the paper plane stayed
Each fold looks exactly like the segments of my  heart, enclosing spilled secrets
Hoping to escape on a boat built with chocolate wrap
My favourite snack turned enemy, doctor said I have diabetes
Trapped in between a stormy sea stretched miles apart, scared not to drown in my own tears
Prayers offered during a full moon night  I held on to than friends
Still scribbled on the face of a blue sky are the conversations we had
Talking to the mirror becomes an act I didn't outgrow
Unleashing the beauty of becoming me
The growth and changes in living
Everyone and everything changed form
Our giggles now turned to be a disguised laughter to keep us from crying
With cheeks hiding the stress we encounter on our way to become adults
The pattern is endless
Hoping to play in the rain ***** away from the prying eyes of life
Washing off the words burnt on my skin
Left with beautiful scars for becoming an adult
The greatest trick I fell for.
Everything and everyone changed forms. I watch kids play in the rain while I seek for shelter to avoid getting my suit wet. The paper plane is heavier than it was.... I miss my childhood.
elle Sep 26
I am drinking water that is meant for the plants
I am singing songs I used to sing for my dog
but she’s dead now

and I talk to myself while I scrub greasy pans,
read messages but never answer.

my vocabulary doesn’t stretch the length of expectations
by now I know that my silence sends the right message,
clearer than my hand-picked words
when I feel my blood boil and my brain lunge to keep up
I shut up.

they are just waiting to speak
at me and
I am just trying to sleep
A J Mullins Sep 25
Arms flailing -
Who am I?
Diversity unwritten in passions of horrible
Who am I?
Colours drowning in a sea of darkness;
Who am I?
Upcoming adulthood stuck between life and love;
Who am I?
All I am is me, just ... me.
AvengingPoet Sep 24
I sit back, wandering and wavering
I’m not quite sure where I am in this plot
But I don’t think it is six feet under
I try my best to listen
But I’m just doing okay
And *** only knows when the **** it’ll be great.

Oh the energy I lack
For all the *******
Four years of this schooling
Four years of that schooling
While barely surviving
What a crock of ****.

I don’t hate it all
It was educational some of the time
But now I leave within a few months
With confusion and fuzzy memories
Of things I never did
And things I never wanted to do

What an American Dream I’m living.
Anya Sep 23
When you're little
and learning to grasp reality
Invisible friends
and fairy tales
are a common thing

But when you grow older
Do you actually grasp reality
Or are the mystical fairy chimes
in your head
just replaced with screaming?
This poem took a darker twist than I'd usually use but I wanted to test the idea out.
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