Well worn roads
are generally full of potholes.
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I don't even know if I am her anymore:\
I am silenced beneath dropped to rage in peace I am aloned born crafted head lonely worn I am abused again manipulated in blind to the said I am saddened depressed repressed too much till death I am nightened a lot mooned in the soul shot I am painted black darkened no rainbows seen back I am cried tears abandoned for good of fear selfish no one cares to see how human small I mere ------ravenfeels
Going around circles
tired of all this endless arguments wondering.. when will this going to end?
Have you grown weary?
Would you like to rest a while? Shut your eyes with me...
for clarity yes, I mean bade, the past-tense of bid, not bad.
With wearied ways the air looks grey
It's colour stains surrounding planes Heavy clouds weigh eyelids down Condensed to rest as momentum slows Mellow tones and energy spent Low on conversation goals All but empty sentiments No plans today, worn out to play Sleep instead behinds your gaze Dreaming to regenerate
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
There's so much that I want to say
So much popping up in my feed and head today But the fact is all that comes out now is I'm so tired of this You can't have an opinion unless you're white You can't have an opinion unless you're black You can't have, you can't think, you can't do You're racist, you're not a Christian, you're not Jack For You see, I'm tired not for myself But of all the negativity I'm so tired of a culture that's bleeding And we think tapping a keyboard is Bringing about so much change But it's not, it's leaving us needing Needing change that isn't coming Cause of us it's faltering A constant uphill battle we've created But to that end we keep running We used to go out and help a man in desperate need We used to give out to the hungry without filming it for our feed We used to never know what happened on the other side of the globe But now if we don't then we must be ignorant with a broken frontal lobe We're called to address so many issues But we don't take care of the ones that are Right in front of us in our daily lives You know the ones that you keep hid deep inside We call out our fellow man and say I'm better But the plank in our eyes keeps us from seeing that we have our own fetter. I'm tired and worn Maybe you are too But what do we accomplish By speaking what isn't true I want to hear positivity I want to know i made a difference I met the need of someone And created a smile where there was none A lot have been struggling this year No job, no money, stuck inside with fear How about we ignore the social media And focus on the neighbors that live next door How about we focus on our communities first before we tackle more How about we turn off the news Go outside and make some instead I'm just so tired and worn.
Pick me up,
And open my cover, But be careful, Cause I might crumble, Read my fine print, Just don’t mock the way I am, I’ve been through alot since then, Drugs, Fights, Heart breaks, And more, Are all the things you’ll find, In my novel.
Each word is a sandpaper syllable,
And ever breath Is a knife sharpened. Between both all are cleaved, and each part is divided and consumed when spoken. we will never heal when both are motioned upon us at once. We are cut endlessly between ourselves and only time can heal us.
Back in the corner of the closet
they rest covered in layers of dust so thick I can barely see their color but I remember the days of trust I placed in them on ladders dragging the hose through mud standing before the radial saw cutting with fear of drawing blood Yes they are quite ugly scuffed and parting at seams soles worn and getting holey walked through broken dreams But I’ve got more work to do I shake off the past with their dust put on these old shoes cozy and true and step into another future with trust.