A lady studiously typed.
Her assignment was almost done.
See, it was interesting for sure.
At first it had been fun
But it drained energy and time.
There were other things she wished to do.
And so it was that her assignment sat up and yelled;
“Well, I don’t know how to be without you.
Why would you finish such perfection?!
We’ve barely even had a row.”
“I’m sorry,” Said she,
“It’s time to hand you in now.
There’s nothing else I can do.
We both need to move on
And be as we shall be
I’ve become so worn
There’s not much point
There are many more things in sight
See, you’re destined for experiences other than mine
And I have many more assignments to write.”
And she typed the final word
It clicked into place
The assignment’s heart sank
- He was filed to interspace.

I don't like myself.
I'm not up to par.
I'm just a speck in the galaxy,
While everyone else is a star.
I don't see myself in ten years, 
I don't see myself in three.
I am nothing to remember,
For I am just me.
I don't want to be myself.
I want to be sane,
But I know that will never happen,
I'll always remain the same.
I confuse myself, 
Because I don't want to change. 

I don't like myself,
but I'll always be me.
I have to accept it,
For me to finally see.
I was put here for a reason,
and a reason will come my way.
I may not be "living",
But I'm surviving every day. 

I may not like myself,
But I'll be there through thick and thin. 
Soon, one day, I'll pass away,
and see I was my best friend.

My dream was killed by my secret told.

My date was set.
I had my plan.
I made the mistake by telling a friend. 
She told the school.
I was sent away,
to a place with judges and people like me. 
We were caged birds chirping to be free.
And when I was there, I found my new dream.

I achieved it by behaving "normal",
Whatever that may be.
I achieved it by taking the poison, 
Prescribed specifically to me.
I achieved it by looking forward, 
and never again of the past.
Three to five days of being a slave,
I was finally home at last.

I now hope to find a new dream,
and I dream to find my hope.
But seeing the mountain in front of me-
The one named recovery,
I often question my mentality. 
There is a smooth road of relapse that taunts me,
with words like sugar that haunt me.
It dares me to walk, but I know I should climb.
The road wants to **** me, but the mountain promises my life.

I'm following the trail of the mountain, 
but I often slip on the blood.
With the words of friends and supporters, 
I once again stand up.
There's a steep incline,
but it's worth the time.
In the deepest valley,
I know I will rise.
I'm a wingless bird chirping to be free. 
Happiness is locked, waiting for the key.
I search in my pocket,
for the object to unlock it.
I then realize the only one who could free me-
is me.

And just like that, I found my new dream.

Lord: Your summer has gone and your springs’ have passed before.
Relieve your leaves of their duty
and pass on the colours of seasons gone.

Grant the winds of May
the chance to blow such sadness away.
Press onto your children the gift of beauty;
of hope, of love, of cold wind fury.

Those who relish in frivolous daydreams
will stay up to the hour;
reading, writing, watching and waiting
for theirs is the time of the daydreaming.
Where they will wander those littered streets
and dance among those fallen leaves.

Yes Lord the world has fallen asleep,
with those leaves that you don’t keep.
By Jacinda Norman

So how about I do tumblr

And you do my assignment

And then we meet later

And drink wine

To counter the caffeine

That buzzes now

And how about M--- come too,

And A--- mayhap,

And we have a merry old’

Delving into the reckless

(Delving into the wreckless)

So how about it then?

Dark brown eyes with bags under them telling the world she is tired; dark, long, glumly hair telling us she doesn't care anymore what her appearance looks like. A smile that goes side to side, from left to right showing her white teeth way too much. A big one in fact that could fool anyone, but i'm not anyone. It just leaves you wondering how had her days been going, since when she stopped caring, or did something happened lately that provoke such sadness in her. All she does since two or three weeks ago it's find a chance to shut the world down with her music. At the same time she makes you realize what strength it's all about; yes, she is broken, at the edge of tearing, but she is still standing solid, facing the world, and holding down all the punches life throws towards her. She is just that one girl in class.

quietly she sits surrounded by the buzzing of  people
the blank paper sitting before her
her mind a storm of ideas yet she is unable to express them
is it the room filled with people?
all of those people making her uneasy
acting as a wall between her mind and that piece of paper
or is it the worry?
the worry of what people will think of her poem
hundreds of words race through her mind yet there are still none on that piece of paper