What can I say? I would love to be you. If you really do approach the world with love instead of hate, then maybe you could teach me to be less cynical about the world.

I don’t consider myself to be a hateful person. But It seems more difficult to be a loving person instead. In a way, you could just see it as confusion, but love is a complicated thing, it always has been.

I’ve never truly understood love in general, but I never expected to. So really, how do you manage to live life while still loving? Well, I admire that you can live life like that. Whereas I still have to learn.

So use this to your advantage, remind yourself of why you love, who you love , and why it’s all worth it. Because this is something only you can understand.

Because love is different for everybody. Love may be weird and confusing, but it’s something we need. And who am I to argue? I may not know much about love. But I can agree it’s worth it. I hope you’ve got love wherever you’re at. Maybe you can help me figure it all out. Thanks for finding my letter.

~Letter Writer

When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered.

The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work.
I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still.

I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them.

I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life.

For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others.
I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer.

Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me?

I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created.

Kalvin Moon

From the moment we met
I fell for you
Your intriguing looks
And personality too

From the way of your talk
To the bounce in your walk

From the smile you flaunted
You were the boy I wanted

Never realizing you were an intrusion
Waking up one day and realizing
It was all an illusion

Whirring around in my head
Are numbers and words
A jumble of pictures
And things I've heard

Somehow they all manage
To line up in order
To assemble themselves
So I have sense and no disorder

They click into patterns
Form into stories
All neat and labeled
In different categories

Another part of my mind
Is a jumble and mess
A tangle of feelings
To give me stress

Memories sharp and faded
Some happy, some sad
Some old, some new
Some good, some bad

They are painful
Reminding me of past mistakes
They are refreshing
Reminding me of what life takes

They are what make me, me
They are what make you, you
A burden to bear
And a blessing too

You ever walk from place to place with your earbuds in and music turned up? I do that a lot. I’m a hallway walker myself, used to run everywhere at first but not anymore.

So since you’re a hallway walker, where are you going? You got somewhere to be? I find myself walking halls a lot. Sometimes it’s for absolutely no reason. And sometimes we all just need to walk out our problems or feelings.

You get used to seeing the same walls and doors along the way. Sometime that halls are empty and hollow, and sometimes you’re trying to walk through a crowd...

Have you ever wondered about where other people are going? Maybe they’re walking the same way you are, or maybe they’re walking to nowhere. Either way, we’ve all got somewhere we have to go. I hope you make it there safely.

And hey, don’t forget where you’re going, but don’t forget where you came from either. The journey is just as important as the destination. Thanks for finding my letter. Now keep walking, I mean, don’t you have somewhere to be?

~Letter Writer

By: Cedric McClester

How long would you guess?
That people will allow themselves
To be oppressed
Before they rise up nevertheless
And find a way to protest
Then ultimately plot
Their oppressor’s destruction
It’s a simple matter of logical deduction

How long would you guess?
It will take the people
To finally coalesce
Then put their battle armor on
More or less
In preparation for a war
They’ll soon address
Just to rid themselves of an abscess

How long would you guess?
Before it turns into
The wild wild west
With the pieces everywhere
Like a game of chess
Before it even gets to be checkmate
As a consequence or a matter of fate
Those who play the game I’m sure will relate

How long would you guess?
Before it all revolves
Into a ****** mess
As they attempt to get the whole thing
Off their chest
And businessmen in droves
Empty out their desks
Then all anyone will want to hear is, hell yes, yes!














Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017.  All rights reserved.

Can you feel the ache in my chest?
Can you touch the cracks in my heart?
Can you tell where my soul begins,
And where it's been torn all apart?

I'm made of sharp edges and pieces fit with super glue
Can you feel it?
I'm a heartless enigma and a soulless slice of truth
Can you feel it?
Enemies make the best friends and now I hate you
Can you feel it?

Lies are like a bullet to my heart, filling me with holes
A feeling of emptiness overwhelms me, a space too bold
Trying to hold on tight to a tangle too tied to unfold
Lost in a web of pain too damaged to be controlled

I'm made of broken glass, chipped and shattered
Can you feel it?
I'm an empty shell of something that once mattered
Can you feel it?
Pieces are falling, a love now bruised and battered
Can you feel it?

The harmony of injustice is ringing in my ears
A lullaby of sweet nothings and my childhood fears
A common trend unfolds, a chorus of chants and tears
A pain ripples through my body and the monster finally appears

Can you feel it?