They tell you, write it with emotion.
Write it like it’s a history you’ve seen -
Describe it in burning colors,
Making a tragedy of things unseen.

But then they criticize you, tell you
It’s too graphic - that there’s no way
That was your personal war.
They’d rather look away,
Than acknowledge that it was your everyday.

sirens bawl
clear skies mean no school
(prospect of drone-strike)

Swaying curtain in the window,
airguns after dinner,
broken doll on the highway,

a promise is a promise.

The small winters
in the corner of her eyes,
Mom and Dad, they hold serve
in the garden, at the office,
no one is watching as she reels,

hurt whispers on.

Walking past stones and trees,
the bones of things,
coming at it all wrong,
this time she makes a promise,

under a name that hides her.

Do you sense their means, a shot and fast,
Where words are power, opinion takes no feather light.
Where rhythm and rhyme will make anything be true,
A world of with others are waiting for you.
If your heart beats fast when you create and ran
If you want to share what wake your brain,
Come and join us now, let your voice be heard,
In the Poetry Club, where you truly awake
Write, and think, and we all create
New place for us to share, to trust.
Make your story, and you may best.
Languages do not make us alone,
we can make the beauty of it along.
You can use translate,
and it’s no, and nor too late.

there's a boy in my class who's sick
and his hair has already fallen out in chunks
and his eyebrows are thinning
and his skin has turned to flaking paper.

there's a boy in my class who's sick
and he doesn't come to school as often anymore
and though he used to be gifted, his grades have dropped
and his eyes are just two empty pools of water.

there's a boy in my class who's sick
and i wish i knew him more to offer comfort or aid
and decipher if that smile on his lips is fake or not
and tell him I care. because i do.

there's a boy in my class who's sick
and my cheeks used to flush whenever i saw him
and i used to write poems about his blonde locks
but i never confessed because it doesn't even matter anymore.

there's a boy in my class who's sick
and i worry that one day
i'll never see him again.

a quote of wisdom
makes it to school bulletin;
janitor reads it.

I am from the sea, the salty spray of the Atlantic.
I am born of the trees and stars, of cold winds and breezy nights.
I am a son of the red sand hills, and the lost letters to neverland.
I am the making of love and pain, of lost will and false strength.
I am the lord of memories of longing and heartbreak.

I am born of an island of stone, and seas of stories.
I am a child of hatred and spite.
I am King of a long-lost land.
I am the farmer of an ancient plant.
I am from the sea, the salty spray of the Atlantic.

I do foolish things
when I'm blue
when I'm sad
and missing you

I do foolish things
like dancing all night
foolish things
drinking everything in sight
foolish things
shopping til I drop
foolish things
somehow, I cannot stop

doing foolish things
when I'm blue
when I'm sad
and missing you

I do foolish things
watching ‘parks & rec' all night
foolish things
drinking coffee until daylight
foolish things
dragging friends on crazy romps
foolish things
somehow I cannot stop

doing foolish things
when I'm blue
when I'm sad
and missing you

I do foolish things
acting like spring breakers
foolish things
*****-dirping strangers
foolish things
acting like some whack-job
foolish things
but somehow I cannot stop

doing foolish things
when I'm blue
when I'm sad
and missing you

I do foolish things
making badong decisions
foolish things
I'm in an awkweird position
foolish things
I've begun precrastinating
foolish things
a change is indicated

so come back soon
cause when you do
there are foolish things
I want to do with you

foolish things
foolish things
crazy foolish things
foolish things
.
.
Songs for this:
We're All Alone by Kennedy Ryon
Another Man's Jeans by Ashe
.
.
A Christmas platlist - because there's 12 days til Christmas!!
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_16.mp3
.
.
slang
badong = bad / wrong
*****-dirping = saying silly or outrageous things to strangers for effect.
awkweird = combination of 'awkward' and 'weird'.
precrastinating = procrastinating before procrastinating

Music
It gets me through,
Hearing others express how i feel
Grief
Confusion
Relationships
Friendships
All those…
more.

Expressions being expressed
Doesn't work
I speak in crushed riddles
With cracks
And quick unprepared responses
That were shoved out because i haven't spoke in hours
excited for company
came off awkward
            Just liked the feeling of a conversation
Life is like that
And music lets me communicate and exist
It's what i lean on