In youth we see the world through bright, bold eyes,  
Each thought a treasure wrapped in dreams untold.  
The sky seems near, the sun a grand surprise,  
We chase the winds, our hearts forever bold.  

But as the years unfold, the truth draws near,  
With every lesson, shadows cast their light.  
From shifting sands, we learn to face our fear,  
And what was once a dream now feels so right.  

A gentle grace within the heart does grow,  
As wisdom whispers softly in our ear.  
Perspective bends, reveals what we can't know,  
And through each change, we hold the past most dear.  

For learning shapes the mind, the soul, the view,  
And in this dance of time, we start anew.

art ain't about first tries
life's a slip but no slide
tears make for poor eyes
takes more than two hands to chin up
and you ain't a **** snake
no slide, just grind
no standing around
loitering not allowed

Kids outside, you’re only 5
You were so young, time spent
inside, no youth
you said it does something to you.

You chased love, 3 blocks,
but she left, your first heartbreak.

Years Down the road,
love reintroduces himself,
you give nurturing love,
2 beautiful kids, repaid in black & blue.

He fractures & bruises, and you lie.
Swallow your pride.
Two years of drafting silence but then you speak.
Away you Get.

But life detest you again,
every chance it gets.
He just turned 18, crash, a wreck,
He didn’t even get a chance, a mother’s son.

Then again in Cold Blood, the world
took the other one, 7 times in back he shot.
The daughter, also a mother, could she even fight back.
What were there final thoughts ? She’ll never know.

You’ve taken both from this world, back to raising someone on my own again.
No Job, making ends meet. Sirens Blare, but not in defeat.

You deserve peace I say.
A Happy Ending, she’ll soundly sleep.

The river knows what we were,
cradling our summers.

I remember you, girl by the river—
fifteen,
sun-warmed,
eternal.
My ghost in summer.

You laughed, and the river paused…
Barefoot,
dancing,
your brown skin
honeyed in the sun.

All the words I could have said
the river
swallowed
whole.

Sometimes—
when I close my eyes—
I hear the songs we used to know...

You, oceaning the shallows;
Me, a shell
on a distant shore.

Met you on Thursday,

‘Cause it was the heart day.

You don’t not like so —

Sushi — my type.

For every date, is there anything you’d bite?

Sushi body —
You must like it, right?

Night-long calls,

Somebody’s sleeping tight.

Stories flying high, I rambled on —

The sky my stage,

From page to page.

You must have listened,

Eyes that glow...

Turns out you dozed off long ago.

An EDM show,

A rap girl could try,

The boyfriend — surely I called you mine.

Sat on the shoulders, I do like —

Lovely and muscular!

Same kind of kandi,

But with different colors.

So… can we even get closer?

Got you as my PT,

Promised I’ll never get thinner.

How can I just come to realize I’m not her?

Owned my PT,

My PT likes onnanoko —

Nyotaimori…

Indika shows with DJs we know,

For somehow, we both like Nicky Romero.

Should I go ask him,

Where’s my Romeo?

He plays music,

I got played in your show.

It’s all over,

Indika permanently closed.

Latest post of garage items to be sold.

Separated,

As if we’d never got involved —

Isn’t that easy?

Why can’t I even let it go?

So after all,

Things are now undeniable.

Your hobbies run

As rhythm in my veins —

Up and down,

Echoing my spine.

Countless nights

Wondering why, under ceiling stars,

Your snoring mocked my lonely scars.

I’d rather trade that lo-fi lullaby —

Than this silence

That makes me cry.

You had your ways,

I’d still comply.

Changed my colors,

I’ve always tried!

Finally through the rain,

My tears shed.

She is now

That your rainbow.

I have no idea where to go,

Have a sip at Yoyo?

Our all-time drink:

Mixed Coca-Cola and Strongbow?

No more rides

Around the turtle (lake)!

We must carry great faith in our young writers,
I must carry great faith in me,
Carry great faith in he, they, she,
Who?
Those who will inherit the art we cherish,
Keep it close, stringing together what emotions were lost,
We know the real cost.

speechless in the fact he could be mine
but could he be with another?
doubtless that he would be able to get with
another. if he isn’t, do i have a chance?

secure in the will of god to keep me on
the straightest path, but what if he’s on the path?

I recall the faux weddings
That youth had adorn.
We were something like five or six,
Playing in her attic.
They had setup
A whole play marriage altar
Out on the back lawn.
My "bride-to-be"
Was dressed in her attire properly,
White veil & everything.
We had often played at house,
But never at matrimony.
It was always explicitly implied,
In such games,
That we were already married.
I did, she did -
You may kiss;
Sweet pronouncement!
Just as with half of all marriages,
We eventually grew apart.

Maybe it was the economy,
Maybe it was our goals;
Maybe it was because we were children,
Maybe because it was just for fun.

I still remember picking for eggs
At her home on Easter.

(For Amen Teklay, Kayden Moy, and every child lost too soon)


In just two months, two lives were lost,
To blades that cut through more than frost.
Amen, just fifteen, fell in March—
On Glasgow’s street beneath the arch.

No warning bell, no time to run,
His story ended, barely begun.
Three boys arrested, young as him—
Innocence drowned, futures grim.

Ten weeks on, the pain still raw,
Kayden found on Irvine’s shore.
Sixteen years, a beach, a knife—
Another boy stripped of his life.

Between these deaths, the toll runs high—
Eleven more hurt under Scotland’s sky.
Sixteen teens cuffed, charged, or tried,
While parents ask, Why has hope died?

A 13-year-old at Asda’s door,
A blade in hand, still wanting more.
Two twelve-year-olds in Lenzie fight,
Left another boy bleeding in night.

Stonehaven shook on March fifteen—
An 18-year-old stabbed on the green.
Eight days after, a child of eleven
Caught with a blade at a funfair heaven.

Kinghorn Beach—thirty in a mob,
Four boys battered, blood-soaked, robbed.
Portobello echoed with sirens' sound—
Three teens stabbed, dropped to the ground.

In Aberdeen, a girl of twelve
Cut by another—what dark spell
Turns children into sharpened rage,
And steel the ink on every page?

A seven-year-old, knife in class—
What lessons did we let him pass?
Three schools, three knives, in children’s hands—
Where did we lose the line we planned?

Two names carved into fresh-dug graves,
While headlines scroll like crashing waves.
Amen. Kayden. Just the start—
A nation tearing at its heart.

This isn’t distant, isn’t past—
These weeks have sliced through us so fast.
How many more must we allow
To fall beneath what we allow?

What justice sleeps while young blood spills?
What silence keeps us standing still?
If two months wrought this ****** toll,
We’ve lost control. We’ve lost control