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Warren Apr 2019
Why do people worry for me,
They fear that I’ve been through so much,
With my past and my scars,
But my scars are my battle stories,
Each one tells a tale of survival,
So I wear them with pride,
The blows I took never killed me but made me stronger,
And the names they called me only served to harden my resilience,
Really there’s no reason to be concerned,
I have been through so much and yet here I stand,
Because I am a survivor,
I don’t fear the future,
Because I am a survivor,
I am not defined by my experience,
Because I have chosen to be who I am,
Despite of what I’ve been through,
I am a survivor,
Look at what I have become,
Pity my past but don’t pity me,
Because I am proud to call myself a survivor,
And I will continue to survive,
Larger and louder than the life that has tried to tame me.
GrayeB Apr 2019
One day Death came knocking on my door
But I was not ready for death

Please go knock on someone else’s door I yelled

As I struggled to take another breath

It was then that I had made up my mind,
fight like hell

Because I was not ready to leave everything behind

As I eventually pulled myself from the smoky car

Strangers quickly became caretakers that caught my fall

And I was not afraid anymore

Because Death had simply checked in on me then moved along
Esther L Krenzin Oct 2018
Strong and resolute, it stands
seeking with claw-like limbs
for sunlight and raindrops.
Leaves, crimson and gold
slip from trailing branches
coming to rest on frozen ground.
Whispering and sighing
the great oak bends and sways
in the icy wind.
Roots, beneath the surface
delve deep down
growing
strengthening
as ages pass--
untouched by frost.
The strong winds may blow
and wage their wars
brittle branches may splinter.
But still the oak stands
bending
not breaking against the forces.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
We must learn to be more flexible in life, and not let the world make us hard and unforgiving. If a tree were hard and brittle, than it would break and fall over. And if it had no roots, it would never be standing in the first place. When we are born, we are born a tree bud with roots like small veins. As the years past we grow and learn the ways of the world, our roots growing and spreading. Life may be difficult, there may be suffering, and we may become hard and splinter into pieces. But remember that everything that is broken, comes back stronger than before. I once saw lightning strike down a towering oak, causing it to fall and leave nothing but a barren stump.
After a year or two, a little tree began to grow from the stump of its former self, becoming everything it was before it fell--if not even more beautiful.
To this day, it still stands, looking as if nothing ever happened.
Life will knock you down, but it is your choice whether or not you will stand up again, or stay down.
EmotionalPoet Apr 2019
You are who you are, I am who I am, nothing will change
And now our fake love ..estranged
I just HAVE to move on for God's sake!
I'm tired of wasting my self, no more to take
It's finally time for my soul to feel free
I can't move, I count to three..
One : "breath"
Two : "let it sink in"
Three : "exhale slowly"
Oh..my...word, Holly Molly!
Do something for me, why do I need to suffer?!?
It's not enough what I've done?
What else do I need to learn?
They say every step is a lesson
I haven't written in a while, I'm a mess on and on..
Trying to write a poem, I followed you again
I'm trying to find your new girlfriend
Where is she what's her name?
Will she bear your child one day?
Something I was always afraid of was that I never mattered to you.
And it seems that this is my lesson :
I need to love myself more than I ever loved you..
Just something I needed to take off my chest. Haven't written in a while, too much pain kept me down. Thanks
Laura Apr 2019
Rot
There is a rot within my bones,
an infection forcibly injected,
a spread of sludge whose origins
are drenched in impunity.

I did not know I was whole
until my wholeness was preyed upon;
did not know I was a country
until unwillingly colonized.
I did not know what silence meant
until it became obligation over option;
did not know I could be spoken for
by someone who’s asked me no questions.

I never questioned who I was
until others proved what they are not

and now there is a rot in my bones,
irreversible, unhealable, all encompassing.
I am defined by my rot,
named by an unspeakable sludge,
unseen until the mirror cracks,
until I am no longer the only one looking back
Cin Apr 2019
It's like a stupid, ******* game of Jenga or building blocks.
A proud child will spend all their time building, constructing, carefully, and tediously placing one block atop the other.
A big beautiful tower.
Glowing, the child basks in the glory and contentment of having created such a beautiful thing from such hard work.
But alas, the tower crashes and falls.
Blocks spilling everywhere and in all directions.
Complete annihilation.
The child is devastated.
It must begin from scratch.
Picking up and also having to find where the pieces may have landed.
Tears in her eyes, she recuperates and she grudgingly must begin anew.
An entire new tower from the debris.

I am the tower.
I am the child.
I must begin again.
2012-2013
This was something that I wrote very haphazardly in my art journal and that I found again recently. I must have written it in 2012 or 2013. Here I am 7 years later transcribing it on to the world wide web.
Sexus Obscura Mar 2019
my body is a tragedy
lined with fragmented artefacts
of a wartorn state
highlighted by shades of red
and lines of grey sadness

there is nothing like the pity
in the eyes of those trusted to provide aid
it sings a woeful song of healing and love
until you are okay to walk again

you become a symbol
of their service to society
and they move on to lands more beautiful
and planes much less devasted

you are left in the shadows
still broken but warmer than before
warmer despite the poison
you have been doused in called care
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