we are young
we're not quite old
not quite wise
but still our eyes
ponder away
and contemplate
things said that day.

reflections stare back
or shadows, whatever
sitting in a room
with an illuminated screen

some days, it feels the word is against us
other days, we love life
blame raging teenager hormones

for this ridiculous thoughts.

Just stupid angsty teen thoughts.

Each childs tale
Has much to tell
Of how they got here
And why

And surrogate mothers
And fathers too
Look at the damage
And wonder why

And in the eyes
Of these children
They too
Ask themselves why

And in the eyes
Where sociey lies
Surrogate children
And parents wonder why

Anger, sadness, hate
Rage at the world
When things don't go your way

Dyed hair and piercings
Multicoloured eyes
How easy it is
To make an enemy of he world

Stop.....

What reason is there behind that rage?
Why have you built in your heart a cage?
Has somehing thought to apply to the depressed
Become the newest fashion craze?

Does teen mean emo?
Goth?
When did the word teen mean self hating poems written in the dark

Teen.....

What does teen really mean
If today it means following the craziest fashion craze
If it means pretending or imagining issues so I can complain like everyone else.

I don't want to be a teen.

I just want to be me

All focus is on the big picture
The grand scheme of things controlled us
To leave our mark on the world

Many try through big actions but their actions eventually fade in the wind
The mighty always fall when their time comes but......

The little things are carried in the breeze which travels throughout the ages where old memories rise from the dust floating in the wind

The silent one
quietly mourns
And wishes that he was never born

The pressure he feels throughout he day
the feel of his soul's decay
never a whisper wil you hear
nobody knows thats he's  here

Wishing to find a sliver of light
to come and save him from his plight
the silent one silently mourns
and curses the day that he was born.

At 16 full of rightous fury
A flurry
Of words hastily written
Hidden phone under desks
Words spill from the chest
Let the day end
Long for rest

17 responsibilities abound
Astounding
how so little yet much, too much
A  growing
moutain
Of thoughts and anxious regrets
Begets questions and more questions
Answers
bereft

18, 19, 20 s
run in a blur
Uncurl
from the fetal postition
Transitonal
Period global pandemic
Panic, manic, static
Nother round-wait hold one
******!

Instead of disguising my undying worry
in Rhymes and complex words that will most likely
have your thought in even more of a flurry
I know the over used cliche"Things will get better"
can only go so far from here
but uncle, I don't want you to know
The fear I hold in the words I know
you have spoken to mother while we were gone
Now I'm rambling on trying to make sense
of my thoughts swirling together
like sewage inside of a street gutter
excruciating pain I can not feel
but uncle, I want to help you heal
uncle please don't make me cry
with thoughts of you looking up to sky
and asking. "heaven,' heaven why?"
whilst writing this I get teary eyed
and as much as I want to shout to sky
and demand, "Why, once again why?"
But I know that our basic human perception
can't understand the vastness of the paths in life
and that even through all the toil and strife
there is hope in front of you
in front of me
and your family
so whenever you all feel teary eyed
know that right beside you I will cry
a card stand by your bedside
flowers blooming from a heart
know that in that small part
my words are reduced to nothing but sound
soaring and bouncing all around
all sense of his poem making sense vanishes
but still I know that the cliche
things will get better  won't help in anyway
and when you turn up your eyes to heaven
and ask, ,"why why me, why now?"
and know that here I sit teary eyed
holding sobs at bay as I write this
poem to you
even if you can't find truth
in these words your niece wrote while picturing your pain
and wondering what are you thinking, thinking you could gain
some peace for the price of your life
and refusing to go through the strife
so as I read this to your daughter
since I don't wish to offend you, I'm sorry if I do
But remember uncle, the tears you shed
I cry to, but my tears are for you.....

The cliches of life
overshadowing
the true strife it takes
to survive in a broken world
balanced on a frail facade
that will crack once man destroys itself

Lines and squiggles
On a blank page
Nothing more but
Swirls and sticks

Vibrations and growls
Produced by the larynx
Nothing but air
Yet sound we can control

Words and words, sounds and sheets
What is words? Is words a thing?
How can words be so small?
Yet can be a last tear
Or the saving grace

Words are words, or are they? Words are what is, what is are words?

Heart beats and hammers
Shadows blooming
Beckoning
Trail along silently
Translation not needed
Living outside the body
Gazing down on the maze
Paths and roads
Painting an earthy mural
Mirrored petals
And twirling tornadoes of autumn
Prancing around as clouds shade
And the moon illuminates
Weariness

A simple request
For permission
To sing a song
Not knowing it was not theirs
Quick to bite
But stupid lag
Won't let the explanation through
So blocking its seems
Is the only way
To stop this stupid anger and annoyance

You have feelings
you have emotions
you are not a puppet
you are not a thing
you are not an object
you are loved

you are you're own person
you are love
you aren't dumb
stupid
you're not pathetic

you're not indestructible
you have doubts
hate
sorrow
guilt

you have people
you are not a doll
you don't run on batteries
but on hugs
kisses
kind words
and warmth

you are not cold
you are not a freak
you are you
and
I
will
forever
Love
you.

When I found you
You were a small, shriveled seed
Forgotten even by the birds
And the ants the crawled across the ground.

When I saw you
Stuffing fell in great piles
And scarlet seams ripped open
The fabric torn

When I spoke to you
It was through glass
My voice muffled
And eventually
I resorted to attempting backwards writing
On the glass between us.

When I held you
I was afraid
So many pieces
One wrong move
And you'll scatter all over the floor.

And I took that seed
And gave it to my mother
And asked her to teach me
How to grow a tree

I took the teddy
To my grandma
Who showed me how to fix the seams
And gave me a heart to put inside it.

I struck the glass with a hammer
From my brother
And as tiny crystals rained down
I hurried to shield you

And pulling out my seams
I stitch you together.
With part of me
So you're never alone

But....

Though I have found you
You insist on staying broken
And you pick at the seams
And collect the glass
But even so
If you leave
My seams will still hold
Till the day you come to find me

despised for being different
for not going with the norm
he can't change his sexuality

He knows it's a sin, that he shouldn't have been born
why couldn't he grow up
like the norm?

but what happens when the tables turn
when minority is the norm
when men and woman is seen as a sin

She longs for the hug of a man
but it is seen as a sin
it is not the norm
for a woman to be with a man

now look at yourself when the tables turn
when the gays are laughing at you
think about the consequences of your words
think about when the tables turn

Delicately placed
upon her bedside
how did he get past
with out her knowing?

snoring beside
still in a world of dreams
he stares
yearning for her beauty
and in the doorway
stand her guardian

he rubs his eyes, once, twice
no anger, only confusion
with a tilt of his head
silently he questions
who are you

you freeze, caught
surely, this will be your last night
where you can gaze
upon her sleeping form.

Drop by in the morning, it's late
you stare in surprise, no malice on his features
eyes on the white rose
he leaves you to your devices

words hurt,
they break and shatter lives
they destroy ones self-esteem

they are the most powerful weapon.
and the most abused
for words are meant to be uplifting

though in our cruel world today
we just shoot down those
that could've been our brothers and sisters

words
strings of letters accompanied
by controlled growls
that we have somehow made intelligible

words that want want
to soothe fears and worry  
words that heal
what has been broken
words that lift
burdens of the heart
that heal poisoned scars left
by itself

actions
gestures, good and bad
actions that want to comfort
that want to hold
actions that want
to make you feel secure
actions that stitch and glue
patiently together
what has shattered and broken

words mix with actions
and actions with words
actions against actions
and words against words

a jumble of words and actions
on your behalf
words fighting actions
actions fighting words

all on your behalf

words with actions
actions with worlds

all working

on your behalf

How easily done
applying words
to situations
not your own

easier yet is it to
fake sympathy with words
so when writing for others
let them see
that what's written it genuinely/