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Reece Apr 1
When I walked past the casket,
And I set down at my pew,
I tried to conjure memories,
That would remind me of you.
While others cried, I stayed silent,
Cursing myself for seemingly not feeling a thing,
And when we left the church,
Numbness remained.

You lived a good long life,
You saw a lot through your lifetime,
We may not have been related directly,
But you were a close friend of the family.
You’d been through more than I could imagine,
You were around well before I came around.

The person who preached,
Who summarized a life in a few paragraphs filled with sentences,
Said something that stood out to me.
“Eventually, they’ll come a day,
Where more people you know are beyond than down here.”
While that seemed to be a cause for celebration,
All I felt was existential fear.

I’ve lost a lot of those I loved.
My neighbors to the right,
And an uncle who tried,
And now I can add to the list a family friend.
Through each death,
Death held my hand,
His cold touch led the way to acceptance.
I can’t change what happened,
Can’t bring them back to leave a few more years for me,
Until I was satisfied,
Cause I know I’d never be satisfied.
Though, as I cried,
He traced his bony finger across my cheek,
Drying my tears before he left,
Leaving behind a few simple statements.
“The loss you feel is proof they mattered.
Don’t let their death add to your mental clatter.
You believe in a place beyond this mortal plane,
So why waste your tears when you know you’ll see them again?”
I laughed in his face.
“If only it was that easy, Death.”
I remarked with pain.
Yet, as he left,
I knew he was right,
Barbara,
We’ll meet again,
In due time.
Until then,
Take a look down here now and again,
I’ll know.
So,
Farewell for now.
Yesterday I went to Barbara's funeral; one of the hardest Mondays I've had in a while. Here's a nice tribute.
Reece Mar 30
It’s hard watching something die,
And wither away.
Wondering if I could’ve changed,
Or was it fate?
But here we are,
Without the spark,
We once shared.
I’m letting out the guilt,
That I’ve built,
About a relationship that I can say,
Will never be repaired.

We used to click,
Now we don’t,
We used to talk,
Now we won’t.
I’d like to know where,
It all went wrong.
Was it me?
Was it you?
Was it going to happen all along?
If it was,
I wish,
I had been a better friend.
Then perhaps,
It would be,
A less painful end.

I start to question,
The foundation of our friendship,
If things broke apart so easily,
Without any indication.
Perhaps I misjudged the situation,
And ran off with unclear intentions,
I seem to do that best,
Unfortunately.

We’d known each other for years,
For it all to act like it was never there.
Did I make a mistake?
Did my expectations change?
Did I ruin everything?
Too afraid to ask,
So I’ll suffer in silence.

All of this confusion,
For something I don’t understand.
Some he said, she said, foolishness,
Was all that it took for our friendship to end?
And our friend group to shatter to pieces?
I thought we were close to each other,
That we care about one another,
I guess that was bitter delusion,
From a boy who was desperate for inclusion.

I never felt like I belonged,
We were always on,
Different wavelengths.
While you and the others would carry on,
I sat in silence,
Not knowing what to add,
Or what to say.
Questioning whether it would’ve mattered anyway.
I guess I was a fool.
I guess I shot myself in the foot,
So much that I can barely stand.
Never would I have dreamed,
That this was how things would end.

Was I too seclusive,
And too elusive?
Did I not listen enough?
Was I too much of a lonely punk?
Did I push you away?
Did I ruin everything?
Was I the reason things turned out this way,
Cause I changed?
Or was this preordained?
I know as we grow,
We change,
But why did it come so soon?
Last year we went to a movie,
A get-together I actually went to.
Yet, here I am now,
In the fallout,
Mourning what was broken down,
Surrounded by ashen-covered ground,
The smoke, all around.

Perhaps I’m just a fragile snowflake,
Lamenting on past mistakes,
That there’s no hope to change,
So why question it every day?
I can feel it fading,
And I know that I’m turning,
Into a stranger,
As the memories start growing hazier.
In ten years, I won’t remember your name,
And that’s what’s even stranger,
I thought we’d be friends for longer,
I guess that was wishful thinking.

Occasionally, we wave,
But we both know that’s not the same,
As the talks we’d have,
And the walks we walked together.
Now we’re both growing older,
As our chemistry starts reacting slower,
Till the entropy,
Fades into obscurity.
I wish I’d known sooner,
That things would turn out this way,
They’d be things I’d change.

So what’s left to say?
I’m standing at the graveside,
Crying and wondering,
What happened?
What madness,
Caused this?
I’ll put a bouquet,
On the grave,
And walk away,
As the days of our childhood fade.
Did I make the right choices?
Did I hurt you?
I’m sorry if I did,
I never meant to,
I just wanted to be your friend,
And I was for a time,
But that time’s passed,
Because nothing lasts.

I’m sorry,
And thank you,
For everything…
Reece Mar 28
When I try to connect to another,
I quickly discover,
That our worlds couldn’t be more separate from each other.
It’s not that hard to uncover,
And it makes me wonder,
Are our lives just mindless inside our bubbles?

Overhearing conversations,
Is a fascinating endeavor,
One I would recommend.
Without interventions,
They’ll keep on talking forever,
Without an end.
You may start to understand,
That the world’s quite bigger,
Than we can wrap our heads around.
It may be hard to comprehend,
With all of the triggering,
Surrounding sounds.

I’m in a different atmosphere,
In my bubble,
Waiting to be discovered.
Not yet in the biosphere,
Of another,
That’s a journey on its own.
Watching my exosphere,
As people pass by like comets,
Without a second thought.
A dwarf planet,
Floating aimlessly,
Contemplating,
My atmosphere,
Slowly thinning.

Listening,
To people talk about their lives,
And their strifes,
Totally different all the time.
The pinnacle of misery for any given day to me,
Could be I got a paper cut that caused me to bleed.
But what do I hear occasionally when someone shares their lives?
“Hey, my dog just died…”
Fires off as loudly as a gun,
Breaking reality underneath my feet,
Questioning if they’re just looking for sympathy,
Or empathy,
To comfort them in their time of need.

Our problems can seem so large,
To us,
Yet, comparatively to another,
They’re so minute.
Some people feel like when they wake,
It’s another day just to lose,
While others add to their bruises,
Just what they needed.
Lack of consideration,
Or spatial awareness,
Contributing to,
All of our stress.

Perhaps people are vastly different than me,
On certain things,
For one, most got their driver’s license just as they turned sixteen,
But that wasn’t a personal priority,
I need to become less jittery, first,
One thing at a time.
Most people are far more social than I’ll ever be,
Probably my biggest insecurity,
Is whether I,
Talk too much or too little,
Say anything that’s worth the listen.
Some friends adore going out,
Scouring the town,
And spending time with each other,
And if you don’t, it’s hard to recover.
I want a friendship where the person understands the way I am,
Before the butterfly can fly it needs a suitable environment.

I’m in an alien atmosphere,
Hoping to be noticed,
Hurt when it doesn’t come to pass.
Dreaming about experiencing the biosphere,
Of others,
And making memories that last,
Many years.
Gazing at my exosphere,
As the comets fly past,
Knowing that I’ll find my way at last.
Space has a lot of space,
And statistically and certainly,
There’s a habitable planet for me.
So I can circle it like a moon does,
Form a meaningful bond,
As we both are assaulted by the sun.

Just have to wait,
A common theme of life,
I’ll quicken my sorrowful gait,
Because I want to see what lies in the light…
Sometime it feels like people are too different to form a meaningful connection, it is that mindset that makes it difficult
Reece Mar 24
When God came into my life,
I was young,
Younger than I am currently,
Starting to pick up on all of the strife,
And though it stung,
I was still very naive.
Things stopped making sense,
And I felt a voice inside of me,
Telling me to confess,
And learn a new life to lead.

Everything changed,
And I opened my eyes,
I saw the world in a new light.
I felt an urge to care,
Where before I wouldn’t dare,
For better or worse,
Free from my former curse.

When God came into my life,
He showed me the light,
At the time,
When I needed it most,
To prepare for the upcoming fight.
If He hadn’t,
I can’t guarantee I’d survive.
There’s light at the end of the tunnel.
Don’t make decisions that get you into trouble.
It’s okay to cry,
To let your emotions fly,
No need to constantly hide,
Behind the layers of your mind.
There’s people who want to see you,
They’re waiting just outside,
You just have to be willing,
To search and to find.
“Knock and the door will be opened.”
If I ask.
I hope I stay on the path,
And are committed to the task.
Don’t want to go astray,
Or break away.

When God held my hand,
As I listened,
To my friend’s discontentment and resentment,
I kept my head held high.
If He wasn’t there,
I can’t say for certain I’d still be around.
When my friend attempted,
To throw away her life,
And she did what she did,
Perhaps I’d be by her side.

When God pulled me up,
From the hole I dug,
Because I believed,
That listening was enough,
To change her,
Yet, I found myself stranded in muck.
He’s kept my head on my shoulders,
When I look down,
He tilts my chin toward the sky.
He doesn’t judge me for my failures,
I wish I could see myself,
Through His eyes.

I don’t ever thank him,
For all He’s done for me,
But when my life seems to unravel at the seams,
I believe.
That tomorrow, He’ll be with me like he was today,
He’ll hold my hand to keep me from going astray,
As long as I keep on keeping on,
Along the way.
He will show me brighter days!

When God came into my life,
He showed that the world was more than pain and strife,
And as long as I’m alive,
I hope I never leave his side…
Today I feel very thankful, thus, this poem.
Reece Mar 23
I may not be that old,
Been sixteen for a little over a week,
But I know,
That time is painfully fleeting.
Those routines I adore,
Grind life away to a paste,
Though I may deplore,
I don’t want all this time to be a waste.
Everywhere I turn,
Always pushing me to look to the future.
I see that I crash and burn,
Thoughts that make require sutures.
Forcing me to face the inevitable,
That my childhood will soon be gone,
I wish I could be a rebel,
Run away and come back at the dawn.
Time keeps ticking,
Time keeps slipping,
From me.
Keep growing older,
As time moves slower,
And everything I see,
Keeps fading.

Childhood memories,
Haunting me,
As houses are built,
On sacred land.
Two years left,
Till things start to leave my hands.
No amount of distraction,
Is ever enough,
It just delays the action,
And makes the truth more rough.
How it hurts,
To see my childhood drying up.
How it burns,
That expectations rise while I cry my eyes out,
Cause I don’t want to accept that time’s wasting,
I want things to stay the same,
And I hate that they are changing.
If I could stop time and keep everything as is,
You’d have to give me a good reason to take the next step.
For the fear of failure,
Outweighs all the good I see,
Too many possibilities.
People talk me up,
An excuse to disappoint,
Sometimes I don’t even know who I am,
Yet, they seem to have a point.
Days turn to weeks turn to months long gone,
Can never get them back,
And time doesn’t let you mourn,
We just keep on keeping on,
And hope you don’t get left behind.
All this fear holds me back,
Like the chains in my tower,
I want to break free,
But instead, I cower,
Tell myself I’m getting better,
While the results are nowhere to be found.
I stay looking envious at the ground,
While other people excel and move forward,
I’m stuck at the start,
Overcomplicating where to walk.
I’m up high in the sky,
Stuck in the middle of the beanstalk,
Too afraid to climb back down,
And too afraid to reach for the stars,
For what if I fall?
What if I fly?
Do I have the gall,
To even try…?

Growing older isn’t fun,
But it’s just a part of life,
Don’t know where I’m going,
I’ll find out in due time.
Reece Mar 19
You lie awake,
Late at night,
Heart quakes,
And constricts you tight.
You get a text on your phone,
From a friend that you know,
Your feelings of being alone disappear.
They ask you,
“Wanna hang out on Saturday?”
The beginning of your doom,
As your brain goes insane.
You question whether you should go,
Dream up excuses to keep you stuck at home,
Yet, you wonder why you feel so alone,
Nobody’s fault but your own.

It’s the crisis of connection,
Those nasty thoughts in your head,
That make you feel like you’re too boring,
For a meaningful friend,
So you keep the superficial ones,
Those that fade,
In a vain attempt to save you from the pain.

You say you feel alone,
Like no one cares,
Yet when they try,
You let your fears control,
And hold you back,
And you know,
That it’s wrong.
You push them away,
You’ll hurt them first before they deal the final blow to you,
You’ve experienced it before,
And you don’t want to feel that way again.
So you build your walls too high,
Where no one can save you,
Cause you trapped yourself inside.
You hope it’s not too late,
To make a window,
So you can see their faces,
And try to change your fate.

It’s the crisis of connection,
That keeps you standing back,
On the sidelines,
Too afraid to attack.
You assume,
Perhaps you were just meant to be alone,
So you stay home,
With your mental contusions.
You don’t know where to go.
So you just stand alone.

You’re not afraid,
To take the road less traveled,
You never fit in anyway,
So why bother?
Just do what you do,
And see where it takes you,
The road might be lonelier than most,
Just hold onto hope.

Perhaps the crisis of connection,
Won’t seem so severe,
In time.
Perhaps building strength,
And faith,
To make self-corrections,
Is the way,
To cross the finish line.
Perhaps the loneliness,
Is a testament to your strength,
Just don’t give up,
Though it may hurt,
I know,
We will find our way.
The life of an introvert, at least to me.
Reece Mar 14
A tree sits in the middle of a forest,
Hydrophobic,
It fears the rain.
Its bark is coarse,
Its roots withered,
It has no leaves,
And its branches point down,
Toward the ground.

The tree does this by choice,
For it’s afraid of change,
And if not changing is the one thing it can control,
It’ll hold it to the end.
When the rain pours,
The tree refuses the water,
Spits it toward its fellow trees,
Whose leaves dance in the windy breeze.
They always saw the little tree as strange.
Why did it willingly starve itself?
What did it gain?
It always looked so sad,
All alone,
Yet this was the life that it chose.

As the little tree grew older,
It watched as its fellow trees grew tall,
And oh, so green.
Their changing leaves,
Their branches and berries,
That the birds would love to eat.
How it envied,
Oh, it envied.
It uprooted itself,
As its dying roots clung to life,
It walked all on its own,
To find another home.

It started to wonder if the rain was worthy of his fear,
Or if it was overthinking–again.
Was the future a mountain or a molehill?
Only time will tell.
How the little tree wished it could control every detail,
Save itself from suspense,
Always knowing what comes next.
Unfortunately,
Life doesn’t work that way,
A lesson the tree would have to learn,
And accept,
To find brighter days.

The tree planted itself in a garden,
Filled with flowers,
Of many hues,
Reds,
Greens,
Yellows,
And blues.
Even though the nearby birds,
Would chirp and coo,
It did little,
To ease the little tree’s
Lonely blues.
Yet as it gazed,
Amidst the pretty colors,
Of the flowers,
He thought of the fellow trees.
He wondered,
If this was the way life was meant to be.
After all,
These flowers would die come winter,
And grow again come spring,
And they would be just a goregous,
And marvelous,
The second time around.
Eureka!
Purpose and acceptance,
Finally found.

The little tree looked to the sky,
A thunderstorm was on its way.
He could hear the crackle of the lightning,
As a house was set unto a blaze.
The tree tightened down his roots,
He wouldn’t be afraid.
Perhaps if he believed,
He would be okay.
After all,
The other trees thrived off the rain,
It caused their leaves to grow,
And eased their decay.
Perhaps,
He was running from the wrong thing.
Perhaps,
His biggest villain wasn’t change.
Perhaps,
Life would be okay.

The rain came like a hurricane,
And the tree absorbed the water,
Having starved and thirsted for so long,
And as the sky cleared to the sunshine,
He heard the bird’s sweet songs.
His leaves grew majestically,
The berries tasted so sweet,
The birds who ate them,
Devoured even the seeds.
The tree felt fulfilled,
He had found his place,
And though he still feared the future,
And change,
He believed everything would be okay.
Going back to my normal style for this one. 16 years old. Wow, it's hard to believe. This poem highlights how I feel about the world about most things. If it isn't obvious, the tree is me. I'm anxious about most things, constantly fearing I'll fail. Driving is the worst though, too much power in my shaking hands. Hope you guys like this one!!
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