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Crystal Freda Jan 2018
Life can be hard.
All paths are difficult in some way.
Some crooked, straight, or curved
through silent nights and rough days.

It's all about purpose though.
Your path leads you, guides you
to the purpose you were made for
and no matter what will get you through.

Problems don't define you.
You can stand tall
and face the battle
and every single fall.
Tess Jan 2018
I may be forgotten by history.
Win or lose both sides will despise me.
In battle, I will fight valiantly,
but in the end, I will die alone.
My weapons rust as time continues on.
Of my fallen friends, I'll sing a song.
In this endless battle, I will stay strong,
knowing I have no chance of winning.
Flattery has long since then been replaced.
To lie is no longer a disgrace.
Is there any honor in such a place
where the thieves and the murders thrive?
Becoming the best is that which I sought
But time in jail was all my efforts bought.
Escaping once held captive my thoughts,
But still in jail is where I do rot.
My lockpick is gone, my crossbow is too.
But one day again, I will debut.
Though I'm old, frail, and a bit out of tune,
The life of my work will never undo.
The young lads do earnestly aspire.
The old do after time retire.
Crime will decrease, or at times run higher.
No matter what, you can't douse our fire.
The law hates. Thieves destroy competition.
Old methods are gone despite petition.
Will they put an end to our life's mission?
Not as long as good and evil endure.
Niko Jan 2018
I can feel anxiety crawling into my mind, feeding me with unnecessary thoughts.
Self-doubt reaches out for my soul; fear smiles at me as I quivered my lips.
My trembling hands strike down on the concrete, and my head spins.
I slowly shut my eyes, hoping my demons would leave me.
But they persist, making me feel like I have to plea for peace.

I grasp my reality behind a mirror and watch the clock unwind.
I hear the faded children laugh, it echoes through my mind, and I feel the fear within my heart.
I wish my thoughts were sane, so they didn't fall like rain.

When I look ahead of the storm, I see a generation full of demons.
Darkness may rule the world, but I kept holding on.
With every battle I withstand, I fear the shadows will bind my heart and take my breath away.
But somehow, my spirit will never give in.
-Niko
mikhaila Jan 2018
am I beautiful yet?
tears are streaming down my face
my hip bones are protruding through my skin
my stomach talks to me in my sleep

am I beautiful yet?
my clothes are falling off my body
energy is slowly draining
my bones ache

am I beautiful yet?
my mind is filled with taunting thoughts
the cold seeps deep between the wrinkles of my brain
my heart murmurs your name in the dead of night

am I beautiful yet?
I did this all for you
for you to see me different
I hope I look different

so, do I look different?
do I look beautiful?
am I beautiful yet?
Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
Once you came disguised as a playground friend
She innoceently accepted your requests
Sadly She even lend you a helping hand
Unbeknownst to her , you fed off her ******* .

You once came quietly like a stealthy beast
Bringing all your elusive demons along
But be warned this time , to say the least
This time You got your target all wrong ,

One night she roared with a new battle song
Armed , sassy,fully grown,and ready for madness
Like a true fighter,she was now battle strong
The girl was no more a cub ,she was now a Lioness !

Be ready for war, be ready to lose vital arteries
Awaiting you now is a mighty force beyond you
A force that'll neutralize and dry your batteries
Take note and stay in your very own lane boo boo .

She has an audience and a stage and this here podium
On which to stand and let out some of the steams
Brewing for ages via spoken word and this medium
Listen carefully , do you hear her audience and the screams ?

She has taken back her space , her power and her life
She found her own calling , evident in her poetic prowess
That little girl is now a mom and someday going to be wife.
The girl is no more a victim ,she is now a full grown lioness .

#IvanBrookspoetry@✍️ #vanguardofLiberianpoetry©️
Depression was exposed,deposed and eventually roasted using spoken word.
lins Jan 2018
empty
tired but wide awake
tears leak down my cheeks
but don’t have the energy to cry

lonely
flooding my mind
getting pulled into this pit
of everlasting discontentment

sad
warm behind my eyes
not about anything specific
but about everything at once

done
physically pained
mentally exhausted
tired of this ongoing battle
Fireflies Dec 2017
I walk down the lane of misery for the last time this year
Reminiscing my failures
I watch my hard work float away like my lovers who promised to stay.
The self-doubt however lingers
The confidence diminishing like the seconds to a new year
The new year of little significance
For we all know we will never change
We will face the same doubts
We will cry for the same reason
We will fight the same battle
and we will never learn
Not this time, not this year, not this new year
pessimistic much?
E Dec 2017
I came.
At the horizon of the battlefield
Which held the armies of the enemies yet to be destroyed
As my own ambitions of which never yield
Arriving sooner to the pass; the stakes have never been higher
But nothing is holding me back this time.

I saw.
Adversity and the odds of the situation
Which were created by my own arrogance
As the enemy lurked like a venomous plague
Arriving closer to the point of chaotic carnage
But the past is irrelevant, and it is merely a splinter in my side.

I conquered.
The enemy that dared to hold me back
Those countless armies that seemed omnipotent
Which never even seemed to exist
As the now cold blood is smeared on my blade
Realizing all of those wasted years living in the shade (has me)
Arriving at the conclusion of the philosophy of power
But business is finished here; we have another foe to vanquish.
Dolly Balou Dec 2017
The moon is full tonight.
I can feel it's pull.

The cat stares at me.
Her eyes seem to suggest she knows what is on my mind.

As I gaze up into the mysterious sky,
The familiar taste of salt trickles into the corners of my lips.

I can feel a tug of my emotions,
Like the moon somehow has a role in the pull of my interstitial fluid.

It is basically sea water,
Right?

The black cat loiters a certain superstition within.
Fear becomes instilled as she stares into my soul with her all knowing glare.

"Blame it on the moon, blame it on the moon.
Tides come and go, so this shall too"

I strive to find the comfort this world has to offer me
Some say it comes from within, this I am not sure of.

The thoughts linger. The cat knows, I know she knows.
What does she make of me in this incapacitated state?

I taste the salt. It is drawn out by the moon.
That is what I tell myself.

Deep down I know the salt is due to the overwhelming grief I try to deny.

And the cat is merely the internalized self stigma eating away at my self esteem and efficacy.
Share your views/interpretation of these words. Am trying to find ways to communicate and would love to know if there are people who understand this.
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