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minisha Apr 27
Buried beneath suffocating feathers,
little canary resented flight.
The unbearable weight of her wings
made her caress despondency.
She dared convey her plight
to her pretentiously affectionate birth-giver.
Expecting solace, she received a ******
as in she augered and died.
Imtiaz Ahmed Apr 24
I tend to forget that my parents were children once.
That like me, they had goals and ambitions and dreams
far larger than themselves once.
That they too heard the oh so familiar,
“Get good grades, work hard and no relationships until
18” once.

I tend to forget that my parents were children once.
They too were bound by rules and regulations
that did not fit their expectations of their idea of
freedom and self preservation.

I tend to forget that my parents were children once.
That they too faced abuse, violence and
toxic environments that shaped them.
And like me, all they wanted was a way out
from the one place they called home.

I tend to forget that my parents were children once,
so before i go and get all belligerent,
and blame them for the trauma and depression,
I should remember that they too had their innocence
stripped from them and like me,

They were children once.
Thomas W Case Apr 16
Stick a knife in the dawn.
Twist the peonies
into puppets.
Put the goldfish on
the counter and feed
it cereal.
Mice cast shadows as
big as elephants on
the yellow walls of
my heart.
Dance a slow waltz with
the philodendron.
Dig up
Mozart
Bach, and
Wagner.
Make a chocolate cake.
Read me, TS Eliot, and
sing old hymns.

**** everything.
Mom and Dad have died.
Here's a link to my YouTube channel where I read from my recently published books.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k5NY8ZMx3I

www.thomaswcase.com
Mariah Apr 15
I want you to know
Why I don't call home

I wish I could express
But you'd rather I digest

You'll stop me every time
From saying what's on my mind

The worst part of that
You're happy with the fact

"No need to explain,
Just eat this cellophane!"

The silence on my end
The concert you regularly attend

The sweet sound of gone
Born from the shame you brought on

On purpose, by choice
You hate to hear my voice

You reject the things I say
You rather I decay  

Didn't matter if they were true
When your perceptions skewed

No love lost
Nothing grows in frost

"Faster, faster, faster!
Die! Die! Die!  

Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Don't look me in the eye!"

You suffocated me in time
Just so you could live your life
Without remaining in mine
Hoping
This time I won't survive.
Alice Wilde Apr 12
I used to think I was an anxious child.

Now, I realize my parents
Could never accept my love.
Ari Apr 11
today I looked at my mom and saw the little girl beneath, the little girl just like me, trying to make it through life, pretending to be grown.
isnt it a little weird and wonderful how our parents and all the adults around us used to be kids like us, trying to fit in and just have fun? Maybe we should remember adults are just trying to do their best like us?
When you go
you take a piece of me,
and yet I am complete
more replete than I have ever been,
a fuller person than the one you would have known or seen,
I am myself, at last,
no longer victim to our complicated past,
and as we part of course there will be sorrow
for you it ends
for me I will step forward to tomorrow
Parent and child relationships are complicated things-especially when the child is no longer a child but the parent still wants to be the parent
miy Apr 5
living their first time too.
expecting they know everything.  
sweet and sour at the same time.
painful, not living up to their dreams.
i’ll try my best, for both of you, for everything you did and everything you couldn’t do.
feelings i had and have towards my parents lately, it’s their first time living too
There lies a tale of love profound,
Every parents' sacrifices, often unsound.
Hard to understand the ways,
As children are in their younger days.

For in parent’s shout, a lesson lies,
In every beating, a love truly tries,
To guide the steps, to light life’s way,
In the hopes of children, parents find their sway.

Through the trials of suffering, stories shared,
Lies wisdom gained, for you to be prepared.,
In every embrace, in every tear,
A parent's love lies, it truer.

Yet in this dance of life's cruel jest,
Children falter, put to the test,
Expecting only to be understood,
While parents give all, as best they could.

The love bestowed, a true treasure,
A legacy of utmost care,
Not for reward or riches sought,
But for a future, dearly bought.

To grant the gifts they never knew,
A love so pure, every day it's new,
But in return, just to understand,
Seems oft too much, in life's grandstand.

But still, they hope, in silent plea,
That children learn, and someday see,
The depth of love, the sacrifices made,
In every step, in every shade.

For in the end, when they depart,
It's not for praise or pride of heart,
But for the hope, that they will find,
A gift of joy, true and kind.

So let us cherish, the love they give,
And in their footsteps, learn to live,
For in their love, our futures lie,
A gift of love, reaching high.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
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