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He tried to breathe but couldn't
He gasped
He called for help from peers
They laughed
They called him a joker inert
He cried
If only they knew his plight
They don't
He sinking with struggle
He dropped to the deepest deep
Unseen when it's time to depart
Maybe he've gone to another side
They bluffed
The search is over he's yet unfound
They dived
To the deep in search of him
More crowd commenced the search
For hours they were without a lead
Then a diver saw a figure floating freely beneath the deep
He drowned
They came afloat but still he lay
He died
This is an ode to my little brother who drowned
I have died so many times.
I saw the light, I know it.
But I can't deny the dark.
Dying and darkness is needed to burst and make the light come through.
So I know the dark and I know the light but I haven't died enough times.
Not enough to be free.
Can a person ever know all the light and all the dark and still be white like the light?
In all this darkness I know I learned to love it.
And I think there's nothing wrong with it as long as it is right.
Like a darkness full of stars that means no harm.
Like a peaceful room to rest in and close your eyes.
I have died so many times.
So I know how to die but I don't like to die in the light.
Zack Ripley Jul 1
The day you passed away,
I couldn't see the sky.
Too many tears fell from my eyes.
But they weren't tears of grief.
They were tears of relief.
Because even though
I'd never be able to hug you
As you walked through the door,
I knew you weren't in pain anymore.
tia Jun 29
four white chrysanthemums
persistently thwarting outcomes
my touch holds the fragile petals
giving room for death to settle
made this a long time ago
If you looked into my eyes and knew how bright they used to be, you knew I died.
As I write my words are dying now with me.
My body doesn't like it when I try to get ready.
Just sitting isn't ok either.

I just eat, fly and sing or sleep if I can.
Cause only then life doesn't feel so bad.
Like being on fire, heavy or drowning.
My body is a bag of potatoes on fire.
I'm so dead, I'm not moving.

Let me just stare in the distance.
And if you looked into my eyes, you'd know I died.
I'm buried inside.
Strangled and tight.
Gone but stuck.

Away from life.
Away from light.
Colours fly around me in my dark room.
I fall to the ground.
I lie there just still.
Taylor Mar 24
the boy
the girls
and they
died in
he refused
give it
odd poem i thought of
Jieun Mar 8
i get up
from bed
staring blankly

i look at myself
in the mirror
and got myself ready

as i was about
to head out
i see the mask

i sighed and
got it from
my desk

as i put it on
tears escaping
from my eyes

i thought
i could be who i am..
but the real me... already
Bardo Feb 29
He died... died on a dung hill, on a
   manure heap
A little kitten, a lovely.... the cutest
   little thing
Just appeared one day, one cold
   Winter's morning
At the bottom of our back garden
Appeared out of nowhere so it
   seemed, just sitting there
I seen him out the kitchen window,
The other two bigger cats we had
They seen him too
They went up to him immediately
They hissed and spat at him
Hit him a few times with their paws
It was like they were saying:
"You're not wanted here, this is our domain, our territory, Keep out! Keep
But he just sat there, taking it all
Not even trying to defend himself.
Now I didn't want another cat, we had
   two already
I was only young, a boy, had no job,
   no money
We were just feeding them, feeding
    them on scraps,
But you just couldn't help feeling
   sorry for him
Sitting out there in the cold,
   unwanted and unloved
My young boy's heart, it went out to
Eventually I took him out some milk
   and some food
I petted him on the head
In a strange way he reminded me a
   bit of myself
" Seems like the whole world is
   against you too, little fella" I said
But his little head, it remained
   bowed, his eyes closed, looking in
       on himself,
I left him there,
Of the milk he never touched a drop
And the food, never even looked at it
He just sat there so still and so quiet,
When I went out a little while later
I found him, his little body all stiff
   and cold...frozen in the cold
"This isn't a world for little things", I
" there are no miracles here, no
And there ain't no happy endings
(They lied to us)".
I buried him.
I think I buried a part of myself as
   well that day.
The kitten poem, a true story, it always haunted me, that kitten and there were other cats who came to bad endings. I suppose I was a lonely kid, I grew up in a lovely area and had some really close good friends. But then we moved to another town, when I went to school, now secondary school I knew no one, not a soul. I hated it. The others all had friends as they'd gone to primary school together. I was an outsider, I knew no one, at lunch breaks you'd wander around alone by yourself. The lessons too, were harder and the teachers too were scary. It was so different and so intimidating. And there was no one who would understand. And then one evening this friendly cat appeared on our window sill. I never had a cat before but she was very friendly. I used feed her and bring her in and she'd sleep by the fire. In those days people were relatively poor and there was no such thing as spending money on cats, kittens would be drowned, if they were sick they'd be left to die.etc. It was a cold brutal world. I suppose this is what this poem is about, a sensitive youngster awakens to the realisation that life is hard and tough with little magic in it.
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