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Don’t you remember the bruised knees
and those **** hickeys
that’d almost leave you bleeding?
Every lick that tasted of candy
with the biting that left your lip with plumped red swelling?
Plus every squeeze that stopped your breathing?
You could open your eyes wide
only to have them roll back inside.
When gentle and nice were put aside
because let’s face it
there’s a much better way
to have a good time.
Weren’t those the days!?
When pain was THE gain.
Playing life’s good ole ******* i n game
with your playing piece
in between its teeth
that bit down with anything but ease.
I’ve played life the game
because who needs to be in love these days?
We used pain as an escape
since we were dumb
because that’s what we called it..
We called it β€œlove”
β€˜Oh but wasn’t that love?’
No, it was pain
and it’s all the same
now in days, so I kinda liked it that way.
We learned to yearn the pain because our minds turned our blind eyes away from what was really in the way of our growing brains.
Color 2d
i am not okay,
i am not fine.
everything is not great,
my life is not going well.
the way you treat me is not all right,
this is not satisfactory.

If things were normal
We'd still be in the trees
That truth is remarkable
If only society would see
Though they are ignorant, sometimes filled with judgment
I'm sure there will come a spark
For them to open their hearts
Darkness replaced by unconditional love
Happiness for all that be, a higher consciousness for all to see
What a wonderful existence
That would be

Normality, the downfall
Of humanity.
Splinter and divide,
time after time,
bluster and misdirect,
point to the workshy or foreigners,
twist the knife in vulnerable hearts
and fan the fear

We’re here because at some point past
we agreed this land should last
that it stands for goodness and right
and all heads shared the thought
so the idea
became

Our disgust and indignance
threatens a retreat
so the squeakiest wheel triumphs
through attrition

Your mission,
should you choose to accept it,
is this:

Call out the heartless, the bleak,
the self self self serving,
the thoughtless, the blinkered
the unthinkers

Every breath, every day
our grit and mettle can save us
and an idea worth saving
You
You are a star, so please
Pay no mind to your scars
You are special - amazing even
A treat for all to see
An amazing creation whom they all want to be
So stand tall, don't frown  
And proudly wear the crown
It's your birthright
Now let your soul ignite!
I have spent my time,
crawling through its dirt;
creeping in gutters;
a tough skin beneath
sequins of colours.

You all know me;
close to the ground;
so rarely seen;
since time began;

Under rocks,
Or shuffling
busy feet;

Tasting
the sky.

Sss.

Sliding
through sand.

Shedding skin;
Staying the
same within.

On grounds when stirred;
Venonous strike!
One last squeezed wish.
Cold blood delight.

Spiritually
unclean, yet I feel
all - everything but
how I wish for the
Soul of the Eagle.
Different Souls, Different Goals.
Tatiana 6d
I'm a good student and that's about it. I get good grades; I am a good kid. I'm smart and people say I'm going places. But I'm going nowhere, I'm trapped by expectations. I've made decisions based on safety, and not on who I want to be. Because I'm a student, I listen to authority. I trick myself into thinking I'm free and I get to decide my future. But I'm living on regimented time, saved and controlled by bells and teachers. I'm a good student, but I'm not good at life and my ambition has been dead for a long time. I'm just a student who knows how to pass. I'm a good student but I'm not made to last.
Β©Tatiana
Do you ever go through your drafts and find something you wrote in high school? Yeah, I'm feeling real bad for past Tatiana right now.
I was going to edit this into a more typical poem format but the paragraph style of it reminds me of writing short answers in tests which I did a lot of when I was a student. So I'm keeping it that way.
Nothing about a bird's life
seems difficult,

after escaping the egg. All birds ever called to fly,
first survive the egg.

After surviving the egg,
each bird seems

eminently able -- wait,

learning to fly,
that seems difficult

no, that, too, is automatic, an algorithm in some avian system
of cellular facility formation
while
maturation of flight feathers takes time,
not know how.

Wait, and see if

reasoning in birdbrains may be mono pole,
one aim, one direction

like by monopole
electrons driven, an action reaction loop, find good...

good? no, good? no, good, yes,eat this and
grow a few feathers,
without thinking, what are feathers for,
where no feathers were.

Birdbrains do not reason why. The baby watches
momma fly.

Unless, men have changed the program, tamed our wild ways,
fed us corn in quantities we never could imagine,

ours is but to be useful, my Raven mentor caws,
laughing like he knows I have no clue.

-- in the air a query, are chickens still birds?
If good is good enough, it is good enough to provoke a good work. Do birds think flying work?
Lara 7d
Change is a good thing - they say

But who am I?

Do I want to change who I am?
-
No



I am who I am
But I will change sometimes

Love or hate who I become.

I want to become my best self.

Not everybody needs to be proud of me.



I need to be proud of me.

I am who I am.
And I will change into who I want to be.



I won’t change for other people.

I can become my own role model



Im never changing who I am
-
I might change how I am
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