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Rizna M Rameez Jul 2018
They smile because they made
Everyone laugh
But then they realize
Everyone was laughing
At them.
19.07.2018
You'll most likely only understand this if you've been in this situation.
Jiawen 张 Dec 2017
Admit that I myself
Still am that insecure girl who is shy inside.
Then I will push myself harder than everyone else
To be independent and strong.
      
Admit that my parents
Will forever be kids finding the right way to love.
Then my heart can feel that
They really love each other and their kid.
      
Admit that my peers
Will forever be students finding the right way to live,
Just like how I am still growing up.
Then my eyes can see all of their unique souls.
  
Admit that it’s very possible that
My biological family members will forever be racists.
Then I will have the freedom to create my own family
Which is different from them.
        
Admit that it’s very possible that
Most Chinese will forever think I am fat and ugly.
Then my brain can believe that
People of other races do like my body and face.
    
Admit that it’s very possible that
I will forever be afraid of most Asians inside
Because I have been bullied since I was a kid.
Then I will appreciate how much I still love them.
  
Admit how much I am wrong,
No matter how much I want to say that I am right.
Then I will have some room for myself to learn more
And a chance for strangers to know me more.

Admit how much I hate it,
No matter how much I love it.
Then I will have the eyes
To see how deeply I love it.

Admit how much I love it,
No matter how much I hate it.
Then I will have the heart
To feel how deeply I love it.
You have to admit you are not perfect.
winter sakuras Feb 2018
As I developed, they shaped me,
as if I had been a block of clay
sitting there on the jagged concrete of
unpaved streets and endless roads.

My future form dependent on
the timing of passing strangers'
beginnings and endings,
their risings in the mornings
like the blue and orange horizon
spreading in preparation for the sun's presence,

And their settling back in the evenings,
like cool salty clouds of white sea foam
collapsing back into the ocean's
gray waves.

In each moment passing by
like a kid riding a bicycle, speeding down
the cracked pavement and
turning the corner out of site,

I was shaped by
the flurry of life that surrounded
every person's presence.

Picked up, tossed into the air,
and kicked by small children with bright eyes
and tongues that stuck out when
adults were unfair,

Colored, spray painted and scribbled on
by teenagers with messy dark curls,
wild laughing eyes,
and rapidly budding senses,

Observed, analyzed, discussed, and compared
by businessmen in jet black suits
and smooth red ties,
who pondered cutting me evenly
into perfect pieces for sale on the market,

Rolled, polished, scrubbed clean,
and spiced by rapid tongued mothers
wearing aprons and holding long
wooden cooking spoons,

Eroded, left to absorb a vast amount of salt
from teary eyes and bleeding wounds,

Caught on blazing, fiery fumes
of a man's raging anger,

Soaring high in the sky, resting on clouds
of someone's love and faith,

Trapped low in the ground,
sleeping in a bed of dried dirt filled with
people's sorrows and dreariness,

Drowning in purple satin
of one's longing
and unsatiated desires,

Chained to a planet
spiraling out of control in a universe
that couldn't bear to let go.
02/20/18
E A Spain Feb 2018
I live in a world of aimless dreamers
They tell me to become one of them
Their pointless dreams are the key to their "happiness"
An oasis for their aching souls

I dream aimlessly to evade my fears
I dream aimlessly to escape the tears
I dream aimlessly to hold onto peace
I dream aimlessly but I reach no reach

I dream aimlessly, I suppose to live
I dream aimlessly when I close my eyes
I dream aimlessly for a positive
I dream aimlessly, although I die

I dream aimlessly
Although I know
That aimless dreamers in the end..
Have nothing to show

And this lesson is to be learned
An aimless dreamer neither gains anything, nor earns.
Written on June 27, 2010
Brent Kincaid Feb 2017
I must have been raised wrong,
I believe in being generous.
I think people should be loved;
That meanness can be onerous.
I have seen what evil does
And I want no more of that.
I don’t think that selfishness
Will really feed the captain’s cat.

I have watched back biters
And gossips and thieves
Bring themselves all unawares
To the point where everyone grieves.
I have witnessed liars who get
Tripped up on their own tales;
Regular folks and politicians
Get the air taken from their sails.

I know well that our elderly
Have already done their job
So it’s fine with me if they just
Sit around and act like slobs.
They took care of us when we
Were the indolent folks kids are
So, they are entitled to rest,
More than we are, by far.

I was raised to let people be
If they had some philosophy
That did not match mine
Or even the vast majority.
Someone thinks a different way
That’s fine if it hurts no one.
Not everybody thinks the same
Carnival rides are that much fun.

I saw for myself that people
Were individual in so many ways.
Different in how they dressed
And what they had to say.
Some liked sports TV
And many preferred the soaps.
All of that is fine with me
So, why call each other dopes?

Is there something wrong with me
That I don’t go along with the crowd?
That I don’t enjoy the fights,
The sports fans shouting out loud?
Am I silly for not slowing down
When I pass a wreck on the highway?
Well, if I am, then that is fine.
I will go on doing things my way.
Kelsey Lauren Oct 2016
They make it a point to show,
That I'll never live up to the status quo.
They multiply my insecurities.
They make me think of them as disabilities.
They see me as an object to ridicule.
Everything I used to love about myself has been overruled.
My peers have always been my biggest enemy.
At least I now see this in all of its clarity.
It feels good to be writing again... I have been busy non-stop since I posted my last poem and it feels good to get some creative flow going again.
AJ James Aug 2016
Daydreams about my future
consumed my fifteen year old mind,
if only I was informed that eight years later,
I'd still be daydreaming about my future.

Daydreams about my future
consisted of joy and freedom
if only I was informed that eight years later,
I'd still be restrained and joyless.

Daydreams about my future
so misleading to think I would be successful
eight years later and I still question if this
pain will ever cease to exist.

Daydreams about my future,
a world full of fairness that celebrates brightness
not this mess of confused individuality where
anonymity is the new frontier.

Daydreams about my future,
gave me hope that one day I would find the acceptance
I so desperately craved
Eight years later and I'm still hungry.

Daydreams about my future,
reprieve from the torment from my peers.
who would have known, that eight years later
my peers would still misunderstand me.

Daydreams about my future,
the place I withdraw and hide in.
Eight years later and I'm still stuck
in daydreams about my future.

Daydreams about my future,
a hopeless concept my young mind created
to pretend that reality is nonexistent
Eight years later and my reality is still choking the life from me.

Daydreams about my future,
the only thing that keeps me going,
eight years later and I'm still relying on a lie
to get me through this life until it's time to die

Daydreams about my future,
who would have known that I would be so naive to stay here
Eight years later, my twenty-three year old mind has
disappointed my fifteen year old self.

Daydreams about my future,
are all I have left.
Eight years later and I'm still here,
daydreaming about my future.
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