She screams
a raw  sound,
Ripped from her throat swallowed by shadow.
Her cries are strangled in the air,
Lost to the silence where no one cares.

His eyes cold and cruel and still confused
As if her terror was something strange like a game to break.
Her tears bleed red, her sobs choked dry

A storm raging inside a throat too tight to let out a cry

She runs or tries to but fate strikes fast.
Hands like iron pulls her back
And to the earth she’s dragged

The ground devours her like a grave,
Cold, hard, and undead

She fought
oh, she really fought

Nails clawing, fists flailing,

She screamed until her voice turned to rust.
She bit, she begged, she burned to break free
But fate answered only with silence.
But was it fair or simply faith
What did she even do to deserve this?

She longed to vanish, to shrink, to dissolve in the dirt she lay in.
But the only thing that disappeared
Was her power, her pride, her peace.

An evil deed, dark and twisted

An evil no eyes dared to witness.
No savior came, no voice called out
Only shadows, only silence.

If someone had seen
Maybe if someone had heard...
Perhaps she’d still have her pride
Perhaps she’d still have her light.

But no one saw, no one came
And now she lies still,
Her spirit crushed beneath
The weight of what was stolen from her

Beneath the weight of starless nights,
He carved his path through fractured light
A scholar' s heart, though hunger gnawed,
In lecture halls, his dreams he thawed.

No coin to claim a bed's embrace,  
Yet courage etched his weary face.  
Cold floors, stale bread, and borrowed showers,
But hope persisted through the hours.

“Define your goal,”his voice now rings,  
“Let every step to purpose cling.”
Through storms of doubt, he held the flame,
And grit became his middle name.

No grant nor state would stake his claim,
Yet social media fanned his aim.
Strangers became his steadfast kin,
Their faith a balm for wounds within.

Now standing tall, degree in hand,  
He maps the way for others’ land.
“Your trials are seeds” he softly shares,  
“For blossoms thrive through unkind airs.”  

Resilience wrote his story’s creed
Not born of luck, but planted seed.
A testament to hearts that fight,  
And turn the darkest voids to light.

Pretty birds in a cage
Little birds in a rage
Red, yellow, green and blue
All bonded like a glue
They try, cry and weep
They fly and forget the creep
Young friends of Earth
Flightless friends from birth
Wish they were never born
Until they eat sweet corn

You don’t know what it's like
To try
And try
And try
With no results

You don’t know what it's like
To cry
And cry
And cry
Tears full of salt

You don’t know what it's like
To die
And die
And die
Every second you're alive

You don’t know what it's like
To lie
And lie
And lie
But nothing
Will ever
Ever
Ever
Get better.