Via Atika Feb 25
Dear me.
Do not make a silly feelings again with someone
'Cause you still have the problem with the old one.
It was an AR15 that the kid used.
A gun that, in this free world, men can indulge and abuse.
A boy who saw him load his gun,
the gunman saw and simply said run,
A word that made the child flee for his life,
just before waves of bullets came upon the school,
The kid looked on and asked himself
why is life so cruel.

How many more people have to die,
before its bloody metal, not tears, that your children cry.
This free world, rife with argument by silly politicians
Men that make decisions, without experience of the repercussions.
This gunman was not a delinquent, he was a child.
Born of your failed systems, born of your sick traditions.
A boy who without second thought, took up his assault rifle
and headed into war with the children that learned ambition with him,
emotion and sudden movement that made them all feel just that little bit stifled.

This free world is one with a core of rights,
A doubled edged dagger,
a topic of discussion that makes the average fat man want to fight.
‘Over my cold dead body’ he said.
Because whilst others use it for fun,
the protection I have outweighs the fact
that when a 19 year old comes to school,
all the other kids have to run.

It’s ridiculous, heck its thoroughly imbecilic,
How children have to be careful of the education system,
not because of a
nationwide test
but a,
nationwide threat
of grown men,
looking to prove their ego,
men that can’t go against the party line
that fail to realise that life is more important
than the next donation
than the dollar sign.

You want protection? That’s completely fine.
Just don’t use the bodies of your children
as meat shields and pretend everything’s fine.
Don’t say you’ll do something as if something will change
because nothing will change unless it does.
This free world is not filled with love but truly its filled with hate,
A bloodlust so dense, even children’s blood cannot sate it’s thirst.
Until it's more than just a child hurt, but a country with a bullet wound
Caused by people, who love guns so much but blame it on the loons.
Your pain, I cannot prove.
So sorry for those who experienced this.

Really angry about how people my age could be killed in their place of learning.
I keep having this constant Dream, more like a vision where someone or something is chasing me. And I am running, and running, trying too hard to get away from it, hoping to find someplace to hide.
I keep running and running, with my eyes searching, my heart pounding, panting heavily, trying hard gasping for air, with my feet swollen, toes numbed, tired and drenched in my own sweat.
That's when things start to scare me.

But you know what's even scarier?
Waking up. Waking up to reality!
Mister J Feb 6
Wake up the dormant emotions
That sleep within my tired soul
Stir these feelings long dead
Let me desire you with wanton lust

Your heavy breathing fill my lungs
As you embrace me with sweet warmth
While the night grows colder by the minute
Make me adore you, make me want you more

Let me dive further and deeper
In those eyes deprived of innocence
Fill the empty bedsheets
Of this cold and lonely bed

Ease my fears of solitude
With those gentle and sacred kisses
As my hands trace every inch you
And my heart fixated on all of you

Don't leave me just for tonight
Since I fear I'm dying inside
Erase these hints of depression
That latched themselves on me

Hold me close and don't let go
Let me drown in your presence
Sink me deep into your pleasure
Leave me addicted to your body

Wake me up alive
And make me breathe heavily
Like making love to you
Is the last thing I'll ever do

Don't let me forget
And don't make me regret
How you roll on my bed every night
And rearranging my life upside down

Let me make love to you tonight
As soon as the sun sets down the horizon
Feed my growing lust for you every night
Until dawn breaks and morning comes again
Thanks for reading!

maybe you can fall down on the street
just because of the pebbles
but you can stand again
then jump, or find another street
Deemz Jan 7
I bought myself a pair of wings
and convinced myself that I was now able to fly,
so I jumped off the tallest limit I've had set
in the first couple of seconds,
I felt free, in control and weightless
but then the weight of reality fell on me
and I was left on the ground
with a broken mind.
Awake! arise! you've been sleeping too long
and following the ways of all the throng.
Look around and see what you need to do
and begin to accomplish something new.
You may even have to finish those things
entrusted with you and for all life brings.
Don't brood too much now or linger over
what could have been but instead recover.
Press forward with a good diligent heart
leave sorrows behind, take an active part
in those things presently before you cast
lest it be said you weren't up to the task.
Be ever steady with your heart's resolve
and in life do things that help to evolve.
Written late in 2017.
A bit of a motivational wake up call to myself and others inspired by the thought of the  New Year in the forefront of my mind.
Garry Nov 2017
So here I am, in the future; everything is shiny
and the traffic is in the sky,
The revolution didn't come and now
the people with all the toys
dance on our memories and laugh.
The rest of us, shorn of our locks and
once mighty powers,
spend the rest of our days,
eyeless in Gaza,
grinding grain at the mill.
Gavin silverman Nov 2017
Your teachers said that a “B” isn’t a perfect score.

So your chase has been for perfection ever since

your “C” presentation that didn’t prove to the class that you could present yourself perfectly.

As if you're a Christmas toy.

Presents are supposed to be what they want.

and every time you meet a boy

Another poem I wrote in my college class.
Anne Hanratty Oct 2017
I'm frequently told to
'Stop and smell the roses'-
I have hay fever.
Also, if I were to stop, I would no longer be moving so
My mind will have more time to fill itself up with the little thoughts,
The ones I'm walking the streets to forget.
Rose is one of my favourite scents but
Every time I try to take it in
My cheeks swell and my eyes water;
I'll just stick to being a walker.

I wasn't aware of this, but the nose must play an important role
In the improvement of mental health because
I am also told to
'Wake up and smell the coffee'-
I don't want to wake up, though I will,
And I can't get out of bed, so,
Could you just bring me a coffee?
It might inspire me.

Within the cover of night I am sitting;
-Doing anything other than sleeping-
In bed thinking about what if somebody told me to
'Wake up and smell the roses',
I'd take that as an order to kill myself.
Surely it's a death sentence
To do a combination of the two
That I have already explained
I cannot,
Will not

Today, however, I did attempt to smell those roses
And I bought myself a latte, too.
But all I could taste and smell was ash,
Which made me panic
Because it felt like I was burning alive and
I liked that-
Now I understand that cigarette smoke can sometimes be so potent, that it
Drowns the soul.

Tobacco is, in fact, a substance of which I feel I can relate to:
It's grown;
Briefly nurtured;
Labelled (with a warning);
Used by many and
Set alight by a temporary flame;
Used up in a puff of smoke.
I wrote this poem for my own benefit in all honesty, it's just something to help my mind unravel itself
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