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ml May 2019
Often times I wonder,
If I stop feeling this overwhelming sense of sadness
and I get better,
would it be alright to start saying I am ok?

Truthfully, I am afraid of that the most.
I know better than anyone that I want to break free from the
problems that seep into my dreams and turn them into nightmares,
but getting better may be losing it all.

Without it, what am I?

If I am happy, how do I identify myself again?
Is it cruel to think that the nature of who I am is built around my weaknesses or that society has made me more shallow and confused?
This isn't really a poem. Lately, I haven't been writing due to way too many thoughts. I want to openly talk to people about things I've always had to keep to myself, but I'm not sure anyone would be interested.
Jeff S May 2019
When I was a boy, the castles of education
soared impossibly large: Brick-laid with Blake, mortared
with Marx, wound round-about with subsidized ivy, rooted
in the 17th century.

And me, just me, on two legs, from 1981.

The flickering incandescence of rebellion started in
these fortressed halls; ideas more snapped than volleyed, until
at the end of our emotional tether, we society on our pale legs,
we sure did fall to a gust of reason.  

Emotion pounded at the walls in every century; and minds, fortified with logic and stoney fact, beat back, beat down, beat away the
Crying, yelling minds. For tears do not make progress.

I was tender, careful, deferential in my youth—an idealist without ideas; merely the powder keg of emotion lurking somewhere beneath my epithelial smarts. Ready and willing to rain against the parapets of education with unsightly feeling.

And I stood, in my academic frock, at the feet of the great hall of learning. And I wondered if my legs could stand it.

Is it any wonder I was raised to be an intellectual?
Steve Page May 2019
The parent said to the child,
"Just you listen to me -
"Do as you're told, you'll be fine;
you need to wait and see."

The child smiled at the parent,
relieved to have someone in charge.
Their worry had been overwhelming
with much that couldn't be grasped.

The adults looked on, both curious
at the exchange that they'd observed.
They continued on their journey,
sharing all that they had learned.
summarising a lesson on transactional analysis and ego states (parent like, childlike or adult like)
The sky is gray
The rain drops
The blossoming trees were shy
Your dance moving
Deep learning research class ended with LaTex
code converting party,
disappears in Mathpix land
By Angel. XJ/26/04/2019
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2019
During growth
One will be questioned
1000 times, or more
With/Without any, choice
Under different circumstances

Where
Some responses
One answered
Will be different
To their understanding

Eventually
One needs to be prepared
To face the criticism
And sometimes
Silence is wisdom
Genre: Observational
Theme: What next?
Caitlin Apr 2019
The funny thing
about being young
is the curiosity
of who I'll become.
But in the blink of an eye
I looked over my shoulder
My youth behind me
and now I'm older.
I still feel green
and my legs are weak
My voice shakes
every time I speak
But with each word
that I pass out
I find that my whimper
has turned into a shout.
My feathers are dry
I settle in
Slowly but surely
I love my skin.
The egg tooth has fallen
And I find that I can,
without assistance,
proudly stand.
I remember the days
when I tried to fit in
To someone else's
Idea of Skin.
I used to covet
the strength to define
Opinions and boundaries
that I had made mine.
I'd felt so weak,
and yearned to be strong.
But now I know
I was all along.
Sophia Apr 2019
A girl danced in the wildflowers, beneath the big oak tree,
Chasing after butterflies, only to let them go free.

This would be a moment she’d return to in her mind,
When everything around her grew dark and life was not so kind.

A time where hoping was like waiting for summer to come,
She wanted it to stay all year, but the leaves fell and the flowers died; her spirit came undone.

The moment she learned the lesson that you can give too much love away,
You see, people are shallow and yearn for the light and they’ll take it, to make their night day.

A man she called father taught her the arduous art of forgiveness,
If he hurt her, left her in a dark hospital room        alone         , who could care less?

A loyal daughter should understand that if he has wings, she must watch him fly, even from her grave
And time would tell her that all her expectations were a waste; in the end he’s the one she’ll save.

When home felt less like home, and more like memory lane
And walking there was crippling, all it brought was pain.

But all this time, the world just turned,
And a thousand lessons she has learned.

Like summer needs the winter,

And the time you spend on blame,
Overlooks your gain
Kora Sani Apr 2019
there was a time
when i called this place home
onward and upward
a steady stride kept

i was blindly unaware
that this 'home' was not safe

had it been,
it wouldn't feel
so unfamiliar now

this is what happens
when forward is the only direction you know
never in one place long enough
to know what home is

i'm stagnant now
moving in no direction
learning only
what home is not

it's not where my head lies
not where my past lives
only somewhere in the future
i'll find what home is
Sara Apr 2019
My footsteps are too loud,
they shout.
Maybe I should keep my voice down;
head, down.
Yet, frown
kept up
the right way round.

No wonder I feel upside-down.
Don’tbeatyourselfupoveryourmistakes,
we all learning.

P.s. didn’t realise that some people I know actually read this so shout out if that’s you x
Riley OHalloran Apr 2019
I admit that I am confident in myself.
I believe that I will succeed in what I want to do,
and no one can stop me
because I know the secret of life.

I'll tell you a secret.
I make adults insecure sometimes
because I have ideas,
and I push to make them a reality
even when adults don't.

My mom told me:
Your mentor feels weird
because she's five years older than you,
and she's still learning things from you,
but I learn from you every day,
and I'm more than twenty years older than you.
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