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Fredy Sanchez Mar 23
Walking alone by a desolate park
Shouldn't have been there, it was well after dark
I heard a noise, quite like a bark
I'll be honest it caught me off guard "Where you from dawg?"
Came the question from a guy who was probably.... the same age as me...
Some voice, whispered, Don't stand there: Flee!
Yet another told me to stand still,
From my pocket I took out a dollar bill,
And said:
Where I'm from this is worth more than your life.
Your dad bailed '*** he was a lowlife,
Now You think you know strife?
At 10 I carried a knife,
By 11 I had used it twice,
And from very early I realized.
The where I'm from
In That hell I called home
Fools put a nine to your dome
For a quarter let it be known.
Every single one is worse than Satan's spawn.
I grew up Surrounded by this.
How in the hell am I supposed to find inner peace?
When I hadn't even seen lion king yet
But friends with holes on their neck?
Yes sir, you bet
What else can u expect?
When killing your brother is just another step to earn respect..
And I'm About to turn this fool's face into mince
Ready to lynch, my fist was clinched.... except....
The other guy was gone
The reflection from the water pond
The only thing staring back at me.
Now I didn't know whether to stay or flee.
But The one thing I knew well,
Is that in that place... home isn't better than hell
Growing up around the violence that my country had normalized made me realize that the only person who can stop me from becoming a monster... Is myself
Try Dec 2018
Drop Drop into the deep end,
new faces daily right up to the weekend,
the realization of your current situation yet to set in.

some are looking for retribution,
others caught in eternal confusion,
thinking they see the end of the path but it's just a delusion,
hardly any one making moves,
many of them are just goons,
blue baboons.

there's only a righteous few,
making daily moves,
which they can prove,
as they get out the shelters,
into a new home quite soon.

so look towards the new moon,
get into the groove,
for you have yet to bloom,
don't let the place consume you.


© Try
some personal experience of what you get when living in a shelter, i may not have been in a position to go and live in one for a year, tho to understand the real struggles people go through on a daily basis it was a much needed experience.
Sarah Kersey Aug 2015
You can say it's all lessons
That every awful thing that happens to us is just "life experience" and that its all some beautiful opera in the end
That it all somehow makes sense
You excuse away terrible circumstances as "experience to be learned from" as if that somehow justifies the unfairness of it all

I've learned lessons I've never wanted to learn
From day one of preschool they've stuck a label on my forehead with the word intelligent that I wear like a brand
It's something to be proud of and its something to despise
They call me "wise beyond my years" but I'd do anything to unlearn some of these lessons
Experience makes you wise but bad experience makes you cynical

I could've gone my whole life not knowing what it feels like to have a boy take scissors to the fabric across my torso in a desperate attempt to go on a field trip with no permission slip
I listen to girls cry into the phone through the crackling static about becoming a statistic and I wish I could take that lesson away from them
You brand me as smart but I watch myself almost become a number in the percentile every night I walk to my car after work with my pepper spray in my back pocket
And now I have a shirt to match my ripped jeans and I have a friend calling me in the dark as she stumbles towards safety, begging me to take her away from these messes we've both found ourselves in

I could've lived eternities filled with yellow filtered happiness and I would've been perfectly okay not knowing about blue illnesses that **** up serotonin, oxytocin and dopamine like a vacuum
Ignorance could coat my mind with a sparkling pink sugar if it meant I wouldn't have to feel this alone all the time
I would give my left leg in exchange for being able to cluelessly search up the symptoms of depression on the Internet and I would give my right leg to be unable to relate to any of the points made on that bulleted list
But instead I write sad poems and I allow my brain to be dissected like that frog in eighth grade as you all try to figure out why I'm so down
If you haven't figured it out by now then here I am, in all my supposed worldly intelligence, handing you information about how my mind doesn't work right

I could've spent ages loving and respecting myself without self hatred clouding my vision
Even when I wear my glasses and it's all 20/20, you tell me I look like an old soul but all I see when I look in the mirror is a jean size I don't want to be and a face I sometimes don't recognize
I taught myself how to hate what the mirror gave back to me after learning what is and what isn't enough
I've spent all summer trying to pour confidence into my mouth like cough medicine, trying to unlearn the hate

— The End —