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Angie Rai Feb 22
The 'D' printed,
with the harsh corners of the-
Ariel in which I lay
dead,
on it's scar-branding curve.
I failed.
I should've revised better.
b Feb 19
shoulder length brown hair
in a Justin Bieber swoop over my left eye.
***** glasses and the same grey hoodie everyday.
i am king of the middle school nobodies,
i built a throne out of
mediocre essays and failed math assignments.

in 7th grade
i was mortified that someone might
see me sweat through my shirts
so i kept my hoodie on.

it was an extra large mens grey hoodie.
it almost went down to my knees.
but i remember one day in
6th grade
i wore a t-shirt.
one of the hockey boys remarked how
big my arms were and wrapped
his tiny hand around my bicep and
squeezed. my extra skin ran through
his fingers like sand.

in 8th grade
i leave my gym clothes at home on accident.
so i grace the dodgeball court in a graphic tee.
a picture of pluto, and wrapped around it
"dont worry pluto, im not a planet either"
and before i could make it back to the only changing room in the school
i hear a boy yell "are you sure you're not a planet?"

in 9th grade
i walk to football tryouts.
cleats on the pavement.
one boy asks the group
what part of the game we'll be best at.
the fast boys start to race
and the strong boys start to shove.

"i have good hands" i say
"but im fat too"
and everyone laughs but it doesnt
feel like sweat or a planet or a big grey hoodie
it feels like a joke were all in on.
like they hired the clown this time
instead of finding one off the street.
at least this time i get a pat on the back
for my trouble.

it was on the street that day that i decided
to wear fat jokes like a face tattoo
or a wrestling mask
my new persona has entered the ring
and he cant lose
because no one is fighting.

i am big but i am hollow.
self inflicted wounds are like
coastal erosion.
Haylin Feb 4
what is a man-made education
getting a job,
not working in your field,
as that degree, hangs dusty on the wall, yet
we passed the class,
we made the grades,
we're smart, yet we keep ******* up...
you know it, I know it,
we all know it.
Talis Ren Dec 2018
i watched the letters drop
melt into eulogies
and bleed red pen

welcome to
the School of Funerals
Phi Kenzie Aug 2018
I was adopted
that’s how I ended up here
I used to be in one family
and they lost me to two

I’m positive it was an accident
they probably thought I was in the backseat
we’ll laugh it off when they find me
Apparently it's actually pretty common for children of divorce to fantasize about adoption/ alternate family dynamics, which I didn't know until recently.  But golly, have I felt bad about it for a long ******* while
Nature made convenient sluice,
when pool water did wend
     down the gentle *****
     describing gargantuan wetsuit vend

er steadily chugging, chiseling,
     and channeling straight away
     blindly coursing upend
ding (mankind imposed)

property boundaries demarcations tend
with futile diligence,
     asper the whimsical ******* lady's
     propensities, viz mother nature

     made short shrift send
ding hours of surveyor labor down
into the behavioral sink also rend

ding inhabitants within the flood plain
     to vacate premises and return,
     when storm didst abate
comically shaking angry fist
     at darkening non sheltering sky -

     faux imitating to berate
meteorological processes
     many complex systems create
the downpour seemingly
     appearing (to me) rainier date

then years gone by scattershot memories,
     (which figurative, somewhat unreliable
     yardstick of boyhood) did equate
climate affecting
     Southeastern Montgomery, Pennsylvania,

     registering **** sapiens ultimate fate
burgeoning population, which impact great enough
     for this lix spittle country bumpkin to *******
(not prematurely) Hawaii hate
to reckon my environmental impact doth irritate

fragile ecosystems, and  
     holistic lifestyle aye would trade
     (hint...mebbe ya know
     of eco-centric intentional communities)
     even (yes absolutely)
     necessitating sweat of brow *****

work agreeable to this sometime joker    
renting from management Grosse and Quade,
who primarily bolster increasing monies to get paid, 
perhaps partnership incorporates hiring maid 
service for their own households,
 
     no doubt beds get properly made
     yet, this regular John Doe (dependent on
     social security disability because
     debilitating panic attacks undermined

     ability to function found (yours truly) laid
up (prior to acquiescing strong suggestions
to accept prescription medication), where grade
to cope much less steep, plus un huff frayed,

now rowing tha old skiff to destination
     for to long not fostered and delayed
(christened matthew scott harris) to feign charade
nod duh so merrily lee down the time stream.
Another Bad Poem Mar 2018
when you are worth
nothing more than a grade
to those
who should love you most
then what are you, really?

are you a man?
are you a boy?
are you a good son?
a good brother?
or just a number?
what are you, really?

what's the point
of trying hard
to please them all
because when you fail,
as you undoubtedly will,
then what are you, really?

a number, some letters
and expectations that grow
faster than the mind or the body
can hope to keep up with
lead to broken dreams
and without dreams,
then what are you, really?

just a rag doll, tossed from
person to person, clinging
desperately, hoping for a glimpse
of appreciation, of wanting, of
love and affection, because without that
then what are you, really?

they say
you must love yourself
before you love others
but when it seems
like nobody else loves you
it's quite impossible
to love yourself

because if they don't love you
then who could?
high school student
age 17
unweighted gpa: 4.0
weighted gpa: 5.286
accepted to college out of state
status: dead inside
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
“How is my work?”, she asked

If graded, 5/10.
You passed.

Happy, she was.

“But there is more to go”, later I added.

“Is there more than to pass?”, voice of  innocence.

A way long.
Genre: Inspirational
Jayantee Khare Jul 2017
What if, i didn't find my calling?
Do you love me the way i am?

Neither very attractive,
Nor hardworking.
Neither a sportsman,
Nor a marksman.
Neither an engineer,
Nor a doctor.
Neither a poet,
Nor an artist.
Neither a boon,
Nor a bane.

Do you love me the way i am?

My grades are not upto the mark,
Yet i could be much more than you could ask!

People call me vain,
Passions none to name.

May not fulfill dreams cherished by you,
May not walk on the path shown by you!

Do you love me the way i am?

All what my peers have is better than mine!
For me, unconditional love is just fine!

Oh my dear parents!
Am i not worthy?

Maybe someday I'll find my calling!
Till then, please love me the way i am?
This write is inspired by a teenager, who is under pressure to perform better. Parents try to impose their aspirations on their children...but the child has something else in mind...all five fingers are not equal.. let's learn to accept them the way they are...a person good for nothing, excelling in nothing does have a right to be happy..should not be condemned...
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