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Heyaless 16m
Auroral side of the moon could not last without the half wrapped in shadow. 
It intimate you to have endurance of all the heart aches .
Seize the lights in your soul ,
Sail to stay alive beyond simple existence
You must be more stubborn than the weaves . I am a glad I'm lost at sea!
Glory to the wind who guides me
For I can not see
Yet have shown me the sailor I am to be!
You are alone in this world , you have to survive no matter how much pain you feel , you have to stay alive and survive the best version of yourself
What is Justice

What is justice
Does it have a color,
does it have a temperature
The blacker the shooter the louder the news
The tighter the noose
Equality seems to download slower
for those it doesn’t favor
Section 8 flats raise ghetto minded soldiers
Trained to live in prison cells
While leaving empty sits in classrooms
Mothers raising fathers
because their fathers left them,
now live in prisons,
physically, emotionally & mentally
That means when they have their kids they will probably leave them

What Is Justice
Generational curses bless the defenseless
Praising violence because slave masters
Programmed them to hate knowledge
Think less and work more labour after labour
While slave masters stole roots away from their family trees,
then told them to go figure out their identities,
Black Kings and Queens demoralized and carried in shackles, to rebel they now wear more ice than a cold fridge,
painted in movies as villains but have more knowledge than those that run universities, but stuck behind the walls of justice fighting all kinds of adversities,
like starting a race with no legs to run with,
stuck in one place, asking themselves what is justice

What is Justice
Is justice a word we chase in a world imprisoned by the thought of equality?
it doesn’t work if it doesn’t end in a tragedy, wearing hoodies, selling cigarettes, simply driving, could determine the end of you, living everyday under pressure like living through an interview, or facing the end of a loaded barrow,
Yelling please don’t shoot, while the one holding the gun comes to take your tomorrow, these black tears have cried till they have ran dry, social justice tried and still couldn’t change justice
now we challenge the notion of which life matters more, black or blue
This world got no clue
acting like history never took place, in a race of race, forgetting those who sacrificed for us to win the global race
how much more should the dark skinned give to get an ounce of freedom

What is justice
Is justice a word or a curse to the darker skinned, is justice determined based on one’s pigmentations, causing deeply rooted segregation, “all man are created equal” but we forgot about the sequel, in the end it tells us that we are not equal...

So... What is justice?
I can’t believe that this kind of injustice is still relevant in today’s world. We have to do better.
Andrew Crawford Dec 2016
Often the intensity of my emotions sickens me;
nerves diseased, tangled fray of countless neuroses
dragged through fragments of debris,
frustration’s fangs still teething-
bones betrayed, befittingly treasoned,
in suffering, seizing for reason.
Unrest, can’t relieve between tension’s jaws
starved ravenous and thieving;
symphony of knives all slicing,
incisions slashing, screaming.
Lost through leprous lesions, lacerated,
logic left hemorrhaging, flooding, and leaving;
broken blanket of my flesh bastions nothing but
absence for strands unweaving…
and yet I must gather ground by leaning on aggrieving.
Capitulated into the dark of evening,
for want of sleep and tomorrow towards reprieving;
surrendered into night for dreaming.
About struggling with mental illness
Mnamri 2d

From this pain
there's much to gain

The shape of mud
where I have lain

The monsters in my mind
I've slain

their rows of teeth will form my jagged crown.

In the end the purest flower grows
from earth where self-sacrifice is sown.
finding meaning in the pain, live to see another day
A storm blows in from the east. You can smell the rain.

In an hour or less, it will be here
and unpredictability will reign. The seas will roil
and flotsam, so well hidden by the water
will be tossed on the beach like ragdolls.
And the driftwood around you, dry
from yesterday’s sun, will drift once again.
The landscape will change.

It has been a season of storms,
the kind of storms that rattle windows
and leaves behind damage, ripping at roofs,
tearing away foundations, unrelenting, terrible storms,
one after another. You have survived them all,
but just barely, your faith and those you love,
have not let you flail for more than a moment,
when the winds were at their worst.
Your landscape has changed. And changed again.

The earth is a solid thing, so they say, but
that has not been your experience.
It is a wild thing, uncontrollable, a raging mix
of beauty and betrayal, a seething sea of madness,
waiting for the next wave, the next gust of wind
to tear at you and test you and see
whether you hold fast or fall, A test
of your ability to not walk, but dance on the water.
In the New Testament of the Christian Bible, there is a story of Peter, one of Jesus’ disciples, who in order to prove his faith, stepped into the raging seas and show that his faith was so strong that like Christ, he could cross the surface of the water. He took one step, and his faith failed him and Christ had to reach out and save him from drowning. Some people see that episode as a failure, but I have always felt it was a raging success. He walked on water! Even if only for a moment.

The original title of this poem was to be “The Lost Year”, referring to the year of sickness and struggle I have fought through, with the added time of quarantine and coronavirus we have all been through. Most of the plans I had for the year are lost. It was to be a lament.

But if there is one thing I have learned in forty years of writing poems, it is that the muse often has other ideas, and it turned into a poem of gratitude for a faith and people who have loved me through this year. I may not be dancing on water yet, but I have come close.

Be well. Travel wisely,

How many times will I wash my face to feel satisfied with the work Ive put in?
How many mirrors will I have to look in until I’m comfortable in my own skin?
Will the weight of the world be lifted off if I start at the gym?
Are all the troubles I face, a reflection of the **** that I am?
Or no, are they just here? a constant reminder that if I interfere, I’ll just be more tired, more full of what I will fear, if I lose control of stopping....
Realizing my time is short but my love is deeply engaged, in owning only sadness will be made.
The eternal struggle, my love was real, to her it was fun, a folly not to keep and feel.
When I am not present draw her near, I've come to the conclusion of my time here.
All Odds were stacked against you from the time of birth.

You carry a power so strong, that some of mankind fears you.

You are hunted down like an animal.

Most consider you as armed and dangerous.

I know that's not the true you.

  The the world only allows you  to be angry or mediocre.
Any other emotion you are then considered as WEAK

You are forced to suppress, while being oppressed.
They have no idea how hard it is to be you.

Even your own family has let you down.

I pray that you rise up Black Man.
Only if they would help you, they'd see your full potential.

Please end the war within yourself- Mentally.
Release yourself from the ******* that the world has placed upon you.

You are Loved

I know its Hard, but forgive and move forward.
Rise up and bring forth CHANGE
It seemed like everyone fell apart
The board never hit the dart

Everytime i tried to speak for myself
Felt like i was nothing but an elf

When no one was willing to talk
I just went for a little walk

I started to overthink and then came in my mind
No one was ever gonna be very kind

I just went to bed thinking tomorrow will be a better day
But who knew all the thoughts would get lost in the way

Then i thought of pulling a line
But yet there was no sunshine
Just a realisation of how everything works out
Hannah 7d
Time seems to slip away before my eyes,
witnessing the change of the open skies.
At night, I tend to not get much sleep.
My workload seems to pile into a heap.
The internal battles with my brain
are like the endless tracks to a train.
My struggle to focus lasts day and night,
it causes me, myself, and I to fight.
I don't need to be scolded by any other.
I am already doing that to myself undercover.
Sometimes I feel like no one knows,
how hard it is to keep my steady workflow.
Procrastinator is my middle name.
Rushing to turn things in on time isn't a fun game.
While doing work I stare off into space,
even if it's not the best time and place.
I'll ask for instructions but they make no sense.
It's like understanding is being blocked by a fence.
On test days I am just so slow,
that my friends can't wait for me so they all go.
My slow is other people's fast.
I wish this would just go away at last.
I have dealt with this all my life,
but I've learned to make living with it less strife.
This isn't how I would have liked to be,
but I can't help it because it's all from my ADHD.
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