#societykilledtheteenager

You cheated on my mother with your insignificant other. She was carrying your child, whilst you were in bed with another. You had a family. A child on the way. A loyal wife on your side. How could that not matter? I suppose we don't matter either. In all honesty I never expected more. All the Father's day cards I never sent. All the I love you's I pray you never get. All The I love you's my mother never heard. She deserves better. Your "marriage" is absurd. Your "commitment" has been murdered. Don't tell me what to do! God knows you haven't done a thing.

0

Feb 11, 2015

Feb 11, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC

marium-iqbal

Dear Father,

You cheated on my mother with your insignificant other. She was carrying your child, whilst you were in bed with another. You had a family. A child on the way. A loyal wife on your side. How could that not matter? I suppose we don't matter either. In all honesty I never expected more. All the Father's day cards I never sent. All the I love you's I pray you never get. All The I love you's my mother never heard. She deserves better. Your "marriage" is absurd. Your "commitment" has been murdered. Don't tell me what to do! God knows you haven't done a thing.

16

My crown has been stolen. My tutu stained. My castle has crumpled. All of it seems to have been nothing more than a foolish childhood game.

0

Feb 6, 2015

Feb 6, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC

marium-iqbal

Nightmare

My crown has been stolen. My tutu stained. My castle has crumpled. All of it seems to have been nothing more than a foolish childhood game.

4

They say I’m losing touch on what’s important: School, study, a job. So I can pay back dad and mom. They say I’m not realistic enough, because the world is tough and if I don’t do it right, I’m a stuff-up. Who needs dreams when you have a Lamborghini, right? All the money in the world, for sleepless nights. The picture perfect spouse, for a thousand fights. Fancy clothes and a house, for an internal plight. Working yourself to death until your cheeks go white. Losing focus on your dreams until you go blind. Letting society consume you until you lose your life. Your life is a nightmare, but you’re not dreaming. A heart designed to carry joy, instead is seething. You can’t hear anything except your screaming. You check your heart but it’s not beating. You’re not living; you’re only breathing. Stop. I’m not chasing paychecks: I’m chasing foreign sunsets. I long for antiques and books and eccentric notions. I desire creative people with intense emotions. I want colour; I want paint. I want dancing in the rain. I want to feel foreign waters’ cool touch. I want to visit places with nothing and yet, much. Take me to places I’ve never seen. Cue the saxophone in New Orleans. You may see the world in black, white and grey. I see it in a colourful array. They think I’m crazy because of the things I dream. They think life is harder than it seems. The can’t understand me. But they’ll die in the dark, regretting what they should have done. While I’ll drown in a sea of flowers, under the kaleidoscopic sun.

0

Aug 3, 2014

Aug 3, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC

ashley-conradie

What we chase

They say I’m losing touch on what’s important: School, study, a job. So I can pay back dad and mom. They say I’m not realistic enough, because the world is tough and if I don’t do it right, I’m a stuff-up. Who needs dreams when you have a Lamborghini, right? All the money in the world, for sleepless nights. The picture perfect spouse, for a thousand fights. Fancy clothes and a house, for an internal plight. Working yourself to death until your cheeks go white. Losing focus on your dreams until you go blind. Letting society consume you until you lose your life. Your life is a nightmare, but you’re not dreaming. A heart designed to carry joy, instead is seething. You can’t hear anything except your screaming. You check your heart but it’s not beating. You’re not living; you’re only breathing. Stop. I’m not chasing paychecks: I’m chasing foreign sunsets. I long for antiques and books and eccentric notions. I desire creative people with intense emotions. I want colour; I want paint. I want dancing in the rain. I want to feel foreign waters’ cool touch. I want to visit places with nothing and yet, much. Take me to places I’ve never seen. Cue the saxophone in New Orleans. You may see the world in black, white and grey. I see it in a colourful array. They think I’m crazy because of the things I dream. They think life is harder than it seems. The can’t understand me. But they’ll die in the dark, regretting what they should have done. While I’ll drown in a sea of flowers, under the kaleidoscopic sun.

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