The casino owner,
Loved taking money from others.
Just set a million-dollar prize,
And everyone is surprised,
So they flock to the casino,
To ruin their lives.
Not that the owner cares,
Money in his pocket,
To pay for all his affairs.
All of the money,
Anyone could ever want,
So he spent it,
To expand the gambling.
More bills rolled in,
Which he used to pay the bills,
Of the growing establishment.
No amount of money,
Was ever enough,
And eventually,
The casino owner went bankrupt.
The people were tired of being lied to,
So they started a mob,
And robbed the casino.
They burned it to the ground,
No more money to be found.

Sometimes,
I don’t feel anything,
Not something bad,
Just nothing at all.
Head feels clouded with fog,
The contagious, corruptive smog.
Slowly,
Killing,
Me,
From the inside out,
One day,
I’ll be free,
From this apathy.
I’ll learn to care again,
I’ll find myself again,
I will…

Sometimes it’s best,
To hold one’s tongue,
And take what you can get,
The alternative,
Is often worse.
Listen to their screams,
Their complaints,
As they say,
You’re the villain,
The hypocrite,
The one in the wrong.
Ignore the voices,
In your head,
That wonder if they’re right.
Sometimes it’s just best,
To tolerate insolence,
Rather than risk,
Corruption.

A boy’s wandering heart,
Dreaming and envisioning the perfect partner.
Hoping and praying they aren’t already taken.
Hiding and lying his true self,
Deflecting and protecting till he meets her.
Questioning and wondering if she’s even out there.
Breaking and crumbling under pressure,
Crying and trying to keep moving forward.
Thinking and finding that he was mistaken,
Learning and knowing that people can be heartless.
Waiting and standing back at the start.
Searching and scouring for the one,
Hoping and praying she hasn’t found someone.
Perhaps I need to leave my small pond,
Then I’ll find the one.

Though today wasn’t the best,
Perhaps tomorrow will be better.
A commonplace belief.
Founded upon a simple ray of hope,
Sometimes, that’s all we need.
I’ll dream about a peaceful tomorrow,
One without the strife of today,
Tomorrow’s a new day,
At least, that’s what they say.
I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
I’ll hope and pray,
That tomorrow’s better than today.

I like simplicity,
I adore routines,
So that I can predict what happens next,
So that it’s guaranteed.
Life doesn’t work that way,
The wheels of fate,
Bound and determined to make me afraid,
And ruin my plans.
I start to panic,
And go manic,
When things change from the normal.
I wish to disappear,
And return,
When things are back to normal.
It’s a habit,
Hard to break it,
But I’m working on it,
To not panic,
And go manic,
When the routine breaks in two.
It’s a journey,
With the ending,
Nowhere in sight.
I’ll keep trying,
And defying,
The odds,
To make things right.
Routine is my friend,
And my enemy,
Bound,
For eternity.

People can be pure,
They can be kind,
Or narcissistic,
And blind,
To pain,
And strife.
They can betray you,
And twist the knife.
People can be empathetic,
Hold you close.
Be there for you,
When you need it the most,
Or break your heart,
Snap it in two,
Lie and say they’re sorry,
Like they always do.
They can nurture,
They can praise,
Or they can hurt,
And manipulate,
Depends on the person,
And their heart,
Where they are,
And where they started from.
People are people,
That’s who we are,
Imperfectly perfect,
Gazing at the stars,
Wondering our purpose,
Wondering the worth of this.
Not everyone is evil,
Not everyone is kind,
People are people,
All of the time…

It always moves,
Whether we like it to,
Or not.
We can’t control it,
And our influence,
Pales to its might.
Through all our wars,
Where we fought,
And people died.
What never changed,
The somber dance,
Of time.
We take its hand,
And hope we can keep up,
As we falter,
Broken-hearted.
It grinds us into a fragile shell,
Filled with heartache,
Like a snowflake,
An assaulter.
Some are accepting,
Other terrified,
Such as myself,
They try amending,
Their mistakes,
That they made,
In the past.
Can’t change it now.
We keep on moving,
No other choice,
Just keep on keeping on,
Hoping that the madness makes sense,
As we grow,
Because we know,
Time only moves forward,
As it always has.

When all our friends faded away,
We stuck together.
I didn’t think it was okay,
The way they treated you.
Yet, here we are,
Feeling like deja vu,
Wondering why,
I stayed.

I try to be kind,
I try to be nice,
But judging by how you act,
I must be blind.
You make jokes,
And I laugh,
But we both know,
The facts.

I know my place,
So I’ll let you have your way.

I’ll be your punching bag,
What did I do to make you so mad?
I thought friends were supposed to have,
Each other's backs.
Is it bad,
That I like being your punching bag?

When you're desperate,
You take what you can get.
So when I have your attention,
I don’t complain.
Though you may berate me,
I’ll hold my head up high.
Because I’d rather have you,
Then be on my lonesome.

I understand my post,
We both know how this goes.

I’ll be your punching bag,
What did I do to make you so mad?
I thought friends were supposed to have,
Each other's backs.
Is it bad,
That I like being your punching bag?

Is this how friendship works?
You throw your friends to the dirt?

Reece means enthusiasm,
Enthusiasm I rarely feel.
When it comes to most things,
The emotion is fear.
I wonder if it is a coincidence,
Why, I am named this name.
Or if there’s a reason,
Why, I think this way.
For something to entice me,
It better be something really good.
Most things that look like
Fun I don’t like to do
And I get misunderstood.
Sports sounds just awful,
Something I wouldn’t enjoy
I’m not much of a competitor,
They are just a lot of noise.
I don’t say what’s on my mind,
As often as I should, for
Fear of being misunderstood.
But writing, oh writing,
It’s easier to put down
What I think, Me,
Reece Ellison, the anxious
Boy with a world inside his head.
Huh, I guess there is some
Enthusiasm hidden deep down
After all…

Summer starts soon,
Junior year is on the horizon.
Childhood dried up by the drought.
I believe things will turn out well,
Yet, I doubt.
Just stop thinking and enjoy,
The last summer before life starts for real.

One sunny summer day.
In the middle of summer break.
A boy was pleasantly surprised to find,
A cat in his backyard.

The cat was frantic at first,
It hid under a vintage, rusted old car,
The boy’s father’s dream lying to waste.
But after some bribery, clean water, and pets,
The cat had gained a new friend.

The cat decided then that it would stick around,
So it was bound and determined to stay relevant.
The boy would take the cat on his nature walks,
Throughout the forest that sprawled all across the backyard.
The cat was loyal, it followed his every step,
And it never resisted when he reached down to pet it.
The purring helped put the boy’s mind at ease,
Something he desperately needed.
It distracted him,
From the pain in his heart.

You see his family of three,
Used to be of four,
But after five long happy years,
Fate came to settle the score.
The family had just begun to settle into their new normal,
When the cat came into their lives,
It was as if fate was apologizing for the way it treated them,
Or maybe that was a self-aware lie.

The cat and the boy bonded like siblings,
The boy would tell the cat what was on his mind,
It was so vivid he nearly tricked himself into believing,
That his late little brother was alive.
A few months later, school began,
And every day the boy would bid the cat farewell.
But something stirred within the cat,
Something told it that things weren’t “well”.

The boy was starting high school,
The weight of the world slowly pressed onto his back.
He never truly comprehended the full magnitude of the situation,
Till it was too late to go back.

The boy was bright amidst a flurry of distorted lights,
It was a shame that he was quiet.
So many ideas he had were laid to waste inside his mind,
Because he was afraid of being wrong instead of right.
But the boy had a major problem,
He was feeling overwhelmed.
His pain was boiling to a head,
And no one was there to comfort him.
How could they understand?
People were siphoning the joy from his life,
The glee he once shared with his brother and then the cat,
It all came to a close one winter night,
When the straw broke the camel’s back…

The cat saw a van covered in flashy lights,
It saw the boy being taken on a metal bed.
As the van sped away, and the boy’s parents followed,
The cat noticed the sky becoming gray.

Hours later, the parents returned,
But to the cat’s dismay,
Only two pairs of feet got out of the car,
As all the pieces fell into place.
And as the thunder boomed,
And the rain poured,
And the parents began to cry,
The cat finally realized:
That the boy had died.

The whole world started to mourn,
Because they knew they had lost a radiant light,
It would be a hard few days,
But nothing compared to that night.
The birds stopped singing,
The crickets stopped chirping,
The dogs stopped barking,
Even the predators stopped hunting,
The world stood still in succor,
Enigmatic bliss.

However in the wake of all the tragedy,
Something inconceivable occurred,
When the parents of the boy walked through their front door,
They left it open with intent.
The cat curiously meandered to the entrance,
As the parents motion for the cat to come in.
After all, the least that they could do was,
Give a home to a family friend…

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.

A Poem By: Reece Ellison
The Immortal One sits solemnly in his favorite field of sunflowers.
He waits patiently for time to pass.
He doesn’t have to wait long,
It’s happening all around him.
He watches the people in the town below,
They work so hard all throughout their lives,
And in return they receive nothing…
Nothing at all.

The Immortal One wasn’t always immortal,
Contrary to the town folks' beliefs.
He was once a normal human just like the rest of them,
Oh, how he missed those days,
Little did he know that that was just the first phase,
Of his life that is.
Back then he had a family,
A wife and a daughter.
His memory has faded over time,
But through it all, he remembers their names,
Lydia his wife, and Luna his daughter.

Those were the simpler times,
When he would watch his daughter play in the fields of sunflowers,
The same one he lays in now.
His wife had always loved sunflowers,
That’s why he lived where he did,
He loved the smile on her face when she would look out every day.
One day he was searching the forest.
Because his daughter had not come home,
She was lost and captured by monsters,
But not for long.
He followed them into a cave,
The place where the monsters called home.
As he searched for his daughter,
He found some sort of stone.
He was entranced by its beauty,
He reached out his hand and grabbed it,
Suddenly energy and power surged through him,
And the Immortal One was born.

It didn’t take him long to find her,
The monsters were very loud.
He found her tied to a tree,
The monsters were preparing to feast.
His anger reached a breaking point,
Power surged from his veins,
In the blink of an eye, the monsters were vaporized,
And Little Luna was saved.

Before he knew it his little girl wasn’t little anymore.
His wife’s beautiful scarlet hair faded to a gray.
She was still as sweet as she always was,
All the way to her final days.
The Immortal One looked just the same.
Not much about his appearance changed.
Except his eyes looked more tired and sad,
As the truth finally sunk in.
At first, he thought that the stone was a blessing,
He saved people all around the village he lived in.
He later realized that it was a curse,
Too much power for one man to master,
And too much pain down the line.

It was a pretty summer day,
When Lydia was buried in that field which she did love.
That day it rained heavily,
He knew that it was a sign.
By that point, Little Luna had a family,
Husband Ryder, son Luke, and their daughter Emma.
They were all there on the funeral day,
Then afterward they all cried themselves to sleep.

Then in what seemed like weeks to the Immortal One,
But was actually decades,
Luna was buried beside her mom.
The Immortal One used all his anger,
And a crater in the Earth was left when he was done.
Why did he have to touch that stone?
Why did he have to watch them die?
Unfortunately, his powers couldn’t save them,
It was their destiny.
He had beaten a whole lot of monsters,
In many shapes, forms, and sizes.
At the end of the day,
His worst enemy,
Was time…

He watched as the small little village he protected,
Blossomed into a little town,
Which then turned into a city,
The place he still called home.
He still fought off monsters,
He still made sure that the people were safe,
Every night he cried,
For everything he lost.

Lydia had a little nursery rhyme,
That she would sing to Luna as a baby,
Who then passed it on to her children,
They kept the memories alive.
It went like this:
Don’t let me see those tears fall down your cheek,
It’s too beautiful outside to cry.
The sun is shining,
The sunflowers are dancing on the Earth.
Then when the Moon shines bright at night,
Tell him what troubles you.
Then close your eyes,
And bask in the somber moonlight.

All that the Immortal One could think about,
Was all that he lost.
Even though centuries had gone by,
And the world changed so much.
He still felt the pain of loss,
Deep in his heart,
His broken heart…
He sat in his favorite sunflower field,
And watched as day faded to night.
It was at that moment,
That he finally had enough,
No more suffering.
He was going to put everything to rest.
He used all of his pain,
And created a spark with the power to destroy the world,
And him.
Just one touch of that spark to the Earth,
And everything would be gone.
Flashbacks from all the memories,
All the people he met along the way.
Why did life have to be so painful?
Why did things have to end this way?
The full moon shined its bright lights,
And he was ready to finally die,
As he cried.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder,
Through the darkness, he saw a little girl’s eyes.
Looked similar to Little Luna’s
She told him “Tonight is too beautiful a night to die.”
He sensed the girl,
Was one of his descendants.
He couldn’t destroy the whole world,
At that moment he was reminded,
How beautiful nature was.
They set down into the sunflower field,
As the moonlight shone in their eyes.
It was in that moment,
Both began to sing:
Don’t let me see those tears fall down your cheek,
It’s too beautiful outside to cry.
The sun is shining,
The sunflowers are dancing on the Earth.
Then when the Moon shines bright at night,
Tell him what troubles you.
Then close your eyes,
And bask in the somber moonlight.

The Immortal One told the girl to go home to bed,
She did reluctantly but said,
“Don’t let the simple things pass you by.”
Then she left,
But the Immortal One didn’t cry.
He used the power in that spark,
And opened a doorway deep into the dark.
Through the door, he saw a whole new world,
A fresh new start.

As he went to take a step,
He told this world goodbye,
The little girl called out “Wait!”
He turned around,
And there she was,
And she had decided,
She was coming too.
The Immortal One told her no.
She had a family waiting for her to come home.
The little girl said she didn’t,
They were killed long ago.
She wanted to leave this place behind,
And go on a different adventure,
And who better to go with,
Then a protector of the world?

So with that, they both gazed through the gateway,
A whole new journey was just about to begin.
As they stepped through the portal,
The Immortal One realized he had gained a friend.

There was an old cat lady,
Everyone thought she was crazy.
Who needs ten cats?
Didn’t care for her reasoning,
Too busy judging,
They didn’t care that,
Her husband had died,
And she was keeping his memory alive.

While the adults kept their distance,
The kids of the neighborhood were fascinated,
Especially the cat lovers,
Though the dog lovers were interested too.
She would sit on her front porch,
Smile and wave,
And on summer days,
Make the children lemonade.
She would tell them stories,
Of her adventures on this Earth,
Their imaginations running rampant,
From her descriptions.
They would listen,
To both her and the cats they would be petting,
And hear their purring.
Those were the happier times.

Over the years,
The old cat lady,
Grew even older,
And moved slower.
Yet she still sat on the porch,
Greeting the kids that walked by.
When they saw her smile,
Their worries and anxieties were left far behind.
Her lemonade, divine,
Along with her key lime pie,
Dining to die for.

She remembered each child’s name,
And would even give the gifts for Christmas,
She didn’t want to see them sad,
They were just kids,
And life hadn’t started yet,
For them.

She rocked on her rocking chair,
Cats sitting everywhere,
Purring contently,
As was the old cat lady,
Enjoying every moment,
Though her lover was long gone,
She found a new purpose,
And her sorrows passed on.

The kids were now in high school,
Still visited every now and then,
To brief her on their lives,
How she valued that time.
They were all so different,
Each student was unique,
With their own special interests,
She prayed that they would succeed.
On Christmas Day,
They surprised the old cat lady,
With a gift from each of the former kids,
Scarfs and mittens,
Chocolates,
And blankets,
And even sweaters for the cats.
The old cat lady cried happy tears,
For the first time in her life.
She was content,
She felt alive.

Then as summer showed its face,
One blistering day,
The old cat lady,
Wasn’t rocking on her porch,
The cats weren’t purring on her lap.
There weren’t any sounds coming from the house,
The lights were off.
The students broke the front door down,
And searched the house.

They found her on her bed,
Surrounded by,
Her furry friends,
They were snuggling,
Wishing,
Their owner would awake,
But she was dead.
She had gone,
In her sleep,
Peacefully.
The students cried,
As they dialed,
The police,
They took her body away,
Much to her cats’ dismay.

The funeral was rough,
Adults not feeling bad enough,
For they had been too afraid,
To get to know the old cat lady.
The students cried,
And covered their eyes,
They couldn’t believe,
She had died.

The students would take turns,
Going to her humble abode,
To feed her cats,
Since nobody wanted them,
Not that they wanted to leave their home.
Yet, when they went inside,
With food in hand,
They were surprised,
To find,
The cat bowls filled with food,
And lemonade prepared.
She figured it was,
The least that she could do,
To ease their hurting minds…

As we walked through the wood,
I found myself oddly stood,
Amidst my peers and fellow friends,
As we searched to find an end,
For we believed we could.

There was a fork in the road,
Two paths diverged, their end unknown.
My peers and friends took the right,
While I stood, paralyzed in fright,
Not knowing where to go.

As they walked down their trail,
I hoped and prayed that they’d prevail,
But feeling called to look around,
I focused on the ground,
And studied, and eventaully prevailed.

The one to the left,
Had been more unkempt.
The right was more ideal,
Even though they hurt their heels,
They charged forward without regret.

However, deep in my soul,
I felt called, the origin unknown,
To walk the path that no one dared,
Not necessarily because they were scared,
But because the right had been controlled.

So, gathering my wits,
I took a step, with no intention to quit,
And walked down the path to my left,
A warm feeling spreading in my chest,
A sense of pride, I must admit.

The road I travel on,
Not many dare to step upon,
But those who do are,
Chosen by the stars,
To walk the road I travel on.

Like yin and yang,
Opposites attract,
The sadist and the *******,
Could attest to that.
Though their relationship was uncertain,
There was one fact,
He’d never raise a hand to her,
No, he’d never hit her back.

She let out all of her pain,
As she relished in his.
She hoped that he would fight back,
That was her one wish.

He cried out in pain,
As he took each of her kicks,
Feeling pleasure,
Though he was embarrassed to admit it.

The ******* had convinced his mind,
That he needed someone inside his life,
To break away his fleeting pride,
To break him down to where he wanted to die.
He never tried to run.
Why would he?
Who would be there to let his wife,
Blow off steam?
He took all of her blows,
Wiped the blood from his broken nose,
And deep down he knows,
He should get away, but he won’t.

She feels triumphant,
Her heart felt filled,
Laughing at the misery,
She never felt any guilt.
He hides his bruises,
Panting with relief,
As he covers his contusions,
Cursing the reprieve.

The sadist convinced her mind
That she just needed someone to hurt in her life,
Someone to satisfy,
Her parasitic urges before they killed her inside.
She never pushed him away.
Why would she?
Where would she let out her pain?
Who would bring her glee by hurting?
She punched and she beat,
Trying to blow off steam,
An attempt to retreat,
From the loss surrounding her feet.

One day, the sadist hit the *******,
After having beaten him around.
There was no scream, there was no cry,
Just a thump as he crashed onto the ground.
The sadist dropped the hammer,
And hid her mouth behind her hands,
Thinking she killed the love of her life.
The previous pleasure,
Faded to more pain,
As she cried and sobbed,
His blood left a nasty stain.

She called the police,
And turned herself in,
They took him away in an ambulance,
As she was in cuffs.
She felt no peace,
Her heart now broken,
Their fractured romance,
Was never enough.

But the ******* wasn’t dead,
And awoke months later in a hospital bed.
Paralyzed down from his neck,
He wouldn’t feel much of anything again.
While the sadist spent the rest of her days,
Locked in a cell, boiling with her pain.
She promised that if she ever got to see the light of day,
She’d go to the ******* and say,
How sorry she was, and she’d try to change.

Yin and yang,
Forever broken apart,
Though opposites may attract,
They can also shatter and leave scars.
The relationship,
Long gone,
But does anybody,
Win in the end?
No,
Nobody does.

The singer wrote her pain on a page,
And sang her songs on a stage.
She was going to be engaged,
Till her boyfriend left in a rage.
She wrote another song,
Feeling like she had been dragged along.
She wished he hadn’t been so headstrong,
Perhaps her heart had just been wrong.
She never quite moved on,
Though she found another guy,
One who truly loved her, one who made her heart flutter,
She still had him in the back of her mind.
One day, she and her new fiancé,
Went on a date, and she saw him with someone new.
She knew it had been long ago,
But when she saw them kiss, her heart fractured in two.
Her fiancé didn’t know what to say,
As she ran away, overcome by pain,
She found herself on a stage; she wanted to flush the memories away,
So she opened her mouth,
To an empty crowd,
And she sang.

The soldier and the poet,
Didn’t know it,
But their fates were intertwined.
Since they were younger,
Filled with vigor,
They attracted each other’s eyes.
It didn’t take long,
Till they were husband and wife,
Together, forever,
For life.

Then the bombs fell,
And the war began,
And the husband,
Had to go away.
He promised his country his life.
Though the poet pled,
It didn’t make,
A difference,
And he went either way.

The poet grabbed her pen,
As her husband trained for war,
She perfected her craft,
As her husband broke his back,
Figuratively,
With all of the attacks,
He was a part of.

She sold her poems,
Of her pain and loss,
And how she saw the world around her.
Her discontentment,
Her resentments,
And the thoughts that flew in her head.
She made a pretty penny,
But it didn’t fix the problem,
Her lover was across the sea.
But she prepared her poems,
To sing to her husband,
To ease his pained mind.

He was deployed to a war-torn city,
Paratrooper,
With parachutes,
Praying not to be shot before you hit the ground.
They had the advantage,
But the forces were stronger than they thought,
And they had heavy losses.
He lost his whole battalion.

Later he came back,
Into her loving arms,
But he wasn’t the same,
At all.
He was more quiet,
Less excited,
As he processed his pain.
He cried,
And she held him tight,
And every night,
She sang to him, lit by the moonlight.
Her favorite was one called,
“My Hero”

“Fighting amidst chaos,
Takes strength beyond belief,
And requires,
Some sacred reprieve.
I’ll hold you close,
Tell you everything’s alright,
I may not be able to change the past,
But that’s fine.
Let the memories fade away,
Don’t forget them,
But don’t let them take control of your brain.
My hero,
My lover,
My husband,
My all in all,
My everything,
My comforter.
Don’t push me away.
On your worst days,
I’ll be your hero,
Like you are mine…”

The soldier fell to tears,
Overcome by grief,
Heart filled with fears,
Wishing for reprieve.
His lover held him close,
He cried into her sleeve,
She asked him, softly,
“Won’t you tell me?”
“It’ll hurt you!” He said.
“I’ve been waiting!”
He cleared his throat,
Lifted his head,
Dried his eyes,
And mourned the dead,
He told her what,
Was in his head.
His choices filled,
With love instead,
Of pain.

She held his face,
And kissed his cheek,
And took her pen,
And wrote down,
All that he said,
Every word,
The saddest tale,
She ever heard.

But he knew,
He was safe,
In her arms,
Far away,
From bombs, and the shots,
And the blood, and the guns.
None of that,
Was here with him,
Just his wife,
His closest friend.

The soldier and the poet,
Didn’t know it,
But their fates were intertwined…

One day, I met the Wendigo,
It told me things that I’d rather not have known.
My family asked me, “Where did it go?”
Who was I to tell?
It visited me later that night,
It gave me quite a fright,
It said, “Scream and I guarantee you won’t survive!”
So I closed my mouth and didn’t dare rebel.
It told me,
“People hunt what they don’t understand,
They can’t even decide who they want to be.
They act like they have this massive plan,
But in reality, they’re afraid of becoming a nobody like me!”
I asked meekly,
“What do you mean?”
It snarled its teeth,
And said to me,
“Some people believe that identity,
Is solely based on how they feel.
But it also has to do with society,
And the people they are around,
And how they are seen,
Not just what they believe.
They think that they can hide,
From the person they try to bury,
Under estranged beliefs,
So they consume whoever they see,
Who doesn’t believe their facade,
And they become like me.”
The Wendigo left,
Quiet as a mouse.
I set up on my bed,
And contemplated the truth I found.
I am me,
But when I talk down to myself,
Try to believe I’m worth less than everyone else,
That isn’t my identity,
That’s an askew belief.
Identity isn’t solely based on me…

A wolf,
All alone,
On his lonesome,
Waiting for prey…
Wondering if love,
Is worth the pain…
A sheep stranded far away,
From its herd,
The strangest sheep you’ve ever heard.

This one thinks for itself,
Despite the stereotype,
Of the mindless zombies.
This one thinks it’s something else,
The first of her kind,
Her childish pride.
Her herd says that love is a lie,
A double-edged sword,
A failing dance,
They advise against,
Searching for true love,
A foolish gambit.
She thinks she’ll break the mold,
Be something more than what she’s told,
But her beating heart will be her demise,
As the wolf takes its prize.

The wolf steps out from the forest,
With a coy look on his face,
The sheep is surprised,
And capsized.
She’s been thrown into the waves,
Her heart betrayed her in a million ways.
With a look of interest, she approaches,
As the wolf prepares his script,
He smiles and winks, checking the boxes,
As he licks his lips.

He says,
“Haven’t you heard,
About the predators,
That roam in these woods?
What’s a thing such as yourself,
Doing this far away,
From the herd?”

She says,
“I’m not afraid of danger,
I’m here to break the mold.
You don’t seem quite as scary,
As the elders foretold.
I find the flock a burden,
Following a fool’s lead,
I am an independent,
I’ll go where my heart and mind agree.”
The wolf smiles with glee,
His prey is his guaranteed.

The sheep notices scars,
One on his ear,
And one by his heart,
She empathizes and opens her own,
Ready to hear the stories unfold.

The wolf smiles and points at the one at his ear.
“This one’s from a coyote who cowered in fear.”
He pointed next to the one by his heart.
“My mom tried to tear me apart.”
The sheep’s soul aches and groans,
Feeling empathy for a wolf unknown,
Smiling softly she asks for his name.
“Anwir,” He says and bows his head.
“Amora,” She responds, bowing along.

Time moves on,
And the pair grow close.
Their love so strong,
It could be a blaze,
And turn the woods,
To an ashen decay.
If only it was,
More than a farce,
Made up by a wolf,
To lure his prey.
So he plays his part,
His life was a stage,
Waiting for the sacred day.

The wolf offers to walk the sheep,
To a place where silence would creep.
The sheep agrees,
Calls it a date,
The wolf smiles with glee,
Sealing the sheep’s fate.

He leads her along,
A stream and a meadow,
Where they got along,
And grew closer together,
All part of his master plan,
Buying time,
To lure her to her end.

He takes her to the precipice,
With nearby mighty cliffs,
The sheep stares into,
The starry night sky.
The wolf feels split in two,
Instinct or love,
He cannot decide.
He remembers his mom,
Who tried,
To eat him to survive.

He lunges,
She thrashes,
She cries,
Her last.
“Why?”
She asks him.
He bows his head,
Before pushing her body,
Of the face of the cliff…

He sits down and gazes at the moon,
So full,
So pure,
Upon instinct, he howls,
Then it clicks,
His actions make no sense.
He flashes back to the sheep.
Smile and eyes,
That pleased him so.
He thinks of her question,
“Why?”
He starts to cry.
Love at first sight,
Ended under a starry night,
With no reason why,
Thus, is played,
The game of life…

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…

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own.

It happened rather fast,
A single moment passed.
A new transfer student,
Felt that he needed to be included.
He didn’t want to be alone,
So he found the nearest friend group,
And hoped they’d take him as their own.

He walked to the group,
Who were trapped in their coops,
Scrolling through their tombs,
Not having anything to say.
Fern cleared his throat,
His anxiety was flying high.
As he stuttered,
“H-h-hi-hi.”

The group was surprised, someone new had bothered,
To approach them,
Especially someone so nervous.
They pondered,
What his ulterior motive was,
As they looked him up and down.
Fern frowned.
Were they judging him?
His hands shook,
As sweat trickled to the ground.
Eventually, Jack got up,
Took his hand and shook it.
“I’m Jack!”
The moment,
That Jack wished he could take back.

Freshman year went on,
And nothing consequential changed.
Fern grew closer to the group,
As life kept turning the pages,
Of their stories,
Growing closer to the heartbreaking ending.

Sophomore year began,
And Jack noticed that things felt off,
Not oppressive,
But enough that he wanted it to stop.
Fern brought another friend along,
And Jack found himself sitting alone,
Fern’s friend just seemed more interesting,
Than Jack ever was.
Jack’s friends used to talk to him,
Then they didn’t.
Jack figured out right away,
That this was how it felt to be replaced.

So Jack went out of his way,
To avoid his “friends” every day.
If they didn’t care,
He wouldn’t let it tear down his sails.
It hurt,
But he knew he’d heal.
He’d leave them behind,
Clawing at his heels.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own,
And that was okay!

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…

Words,
How powerful and distinguished they can be,
But, when in the hands of the enemy,
Become slimy, coarse, static and sloppy.
The old saying goes:
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
I believe that’s not the truth,
And that words can leave bruises,
Break hearts, and leave scars,
Corrode and erode,
Till there’s nothing but calamity.

How quick one is to insult another,
With not a thought on the consequences of speech.
Is it purely ignorance?
Or a lack of decency?
Morality’s gone out the window,
Only hatred remains,
Or at least that’s all it seems,
Few eyes in the overwhelming hurricane.
What happened to kindness?
What happened to peace on earth?
It seems to me, everywhere you look,
A new conflict has emerged.

Language can be so beautiful,
When presented to people who are good.
Not the ones who say the same crude words,
Over and over,
I won’t spell them out,
For they’re repulsive.
Have they little shame?
Or perhaps they don’t care?
Who they cut with their words,
As they fly through the air.
It’s sad when to insult seems standard,
And being kind is an extraordinary phenomenon.
It makes me wonder,
What planet am I living on?

My favorite,
Which means I hate it,
Is when people say a certain two words.
“**** yourself…”
How could they be so cruel!?
To wish the end of someone else’s life!
They say it so thoughtlessly,
Without a care in their ignorant, daft minds!
But they’re joking so that makes it okay!?
I think they forget that a joke is supposed to be funny!
What’s funny about wishing for somebody to die?
What sociopathic, narcissistic person,
Thinks that’s funny?
What if who they said it to was suffering?
What if what they said,
Confirmed every sickening, tragic thought,
In their head?
What if that following night,
They took the *****’s advice,
And didn’t show up at school the next day?
Would they feel ashamed?
Or would they even cry?
At the fact that their words,
Caused someone to die?

I’m not saying I’m perfect,
Farthest from it.
But I am careful to choose my words,
Before they leave my head.
Let me tell you a few truths.
Not every opinion you have needs to be shared.
Not every thought you have needs to be said.
Not every observation about someone else needs to be uttered.
Not every harsh comment needs to be spoken.
Some things are best left unsaid.
Sometimes it’s best to just stay silent.
Sometimes it’s best to remain quiet.
Because your words are weapons,
Your words are swords.
Wield them wisely,
Or are you unworthy?
To use this language,
So complex and enigmatic.

Words,
Can mean the difference between life and death,
Joy and chaos,
Love and hate,
Words carry a lot of weight.
Think about what you say,
Before those thoughts escape your brain,
Please,
The last thing we need,
Is more hate in this life.

I went on a walk,
I found a tree,
In its branches,
Was your face staring back at me.
I began to cry,
I couldn’t stop,
It made me realize how much I miss you,
Since you’re gone.
I know it’s been years,
But it still burns,
I find myself shedding tears,
As the world continues to turn.
I still hear your voice,
Playing on repeat,
In my head,
In a desperate plea,
To convince myself,
With a placebo,
That perhaps,
You didn’t leave us alone.
But it’s getting faint,
As I forget,
How your voice once sounded,
But I don’t want to lose you yet.
How can I move on,
From someone,
Who touched my heart,
Now that you’re gone?

The saddest part to me,
Is that I never truly understood,
Why you did the things that you did,
And the choices that you made.

Even after all this time,
It’s been about two years or maybe three.
Things still seem so surreal,
I don't think things will ever truly go back to the way they used to be.

You were seized by a monster,
A monster that never let you escape,
That monster we call addiction,
It comes in many different forms.
Whether smoking, or drinking, or abusing, or lying,
It can be anywhere at any time.

We all knew you had a problem,
It wasn’t a secret kept hidden from view,
You were smoking and drinking and losing yourself,
And there was nothing I could do.
I learned quickly to avoid addictions,
And my teacher was you.

I don’t quite know how long you had done this,
All I know is that I saw a lot,
I wished and I hope that you would change,
That maybe one day you would stop.

I know that you tried,
You were in a fight that was near-impossible to win.
Deep down you were fighting your hardest,
At least that’s what I hope you did.

Sometimes I would ask you why,
Why you never just quit,
As if I thought it was easy,
Now I know that you dug yourself a pit,
A deep pit.

God has given me a blessing,
I can’t stand cigarette smoke at all,
If I inhale just a little,
It gives me a headache and makes me feel like I’ll fall.

Christmases came and gone,
We’d have fun but then you would cough,
And cough, and cough some more.
Another harsh reminder,
Of what was in store.

You never looked well.
You always looked sick in the face.
You would ***** and some days never get to eat.
You would even sometimes struggle to catch your breath.

Sometimes you would try to talk to me,
And I could tell that you were drunk,
I would just ignore you,
Probably wasn’t the best thing to do.

You used to say funny things,
As funny as they were stupid,
You could always put a smile on my face,
Sometimes I miss those things you used to say.

Sometimes I would look at you,
And I wouldn’t see the uncle that I knew,
It was some dark facade you had made up,
From your pain, the alcohol and the cigarettes too.
I wanted nothing to do with you,
I felt betrayed and angry,
How dare you throw your life away,
You have a mother, a sister, a brother that love you,
Not to mention your nephews and nieces.
I thought that you were selfish,
That you didn’t care enough to change,
Sometimes I hated and resented you,
But now that’s no longer the case.

You were gone,
In the hospital,
Your body had had enough.
Mommom was at the house alone,
Things never felt the same.

No more witty sayings,
No more funny lines,
No more playing games,
No more fun times,
All of it shadowed by a thick coat of gray,
And now it was far too late.

I remember there was a time when you came back,
Thought maybe now you would finally change,
You had seen death’s door,
I hoped you wouldn’t stay the same.

I think you got a bit better,
I thought you had learned your lesson,
Guess I was wrong.

One day they found you,
Lying over your bed,
Head bowed, hands and fingers joined like you were praying,
You were dead.

Mom and Mommom were crying,
I didn’t believe it at first.
How could you be gone?
My brother was crushed.
Dad came to take us away,
As the police came inside the home,
A tragedy that hurt us all,
But the worst thing was,
I thought it was coming all along.

Christmas came around,
No funny lines or remarks to be made.
I think that’s when it hit me the hardest,
That and the fact that the house was so quiet,
It was like a nightmare you could not wake from.
This wasn’t a fallacy it was reality,
And I wasn’t in control.

So many questions went through my mind.
Why didn’t you just quit?
Why did you leave us behind?
The biggest one that stood out like a sore thumb,
Why didn’t you even try?

Your funeral came around,
Another body lowered into the ground.
There was plenty of sorrow to be found,
And from your room, not a sound.

When summer came the removal began,
First was all of the comics and other books.
Then was your furniture and bed.
The rest of the stained carpet was removed.
It looked like a completely different room.
A new carpet was put in the place of the old one.
The walls got a fresh coat of paint.
Your room became a secondary room for fabric aplenty,
For all of the sewing projects Mommom would make.

When the room was clear,
Before all the fabric moved inside,
Sometimes I would go into the room,
And just stand.
I’d think of what it used to be,
The place where you formerly resided.
I’d think of what could have been,
Sometimes that’s all someone can do.
But this is the way it went,
The way that the story ended.

You were only human,
And you made a dumb mistake,
And you became addicted,
And you couldn’t get away.
I know that you tried.
As hard as you could,
I just wish you were still here,
And you did what you should.

I think you could have changed,
If only you had a bit more time
However, was the one thing,
That we didn’t have.
That’s the hardest thing to cope with.

I know that life will be hard,
And I know that it won’t always be easy,
But I know that there are better ways to cope,
Then tearing your life apart.

I know that you tried your hardest,
And I wish that you tried a bit harder,
And I hope that one day,
I’ll talk to you again,
The man freed from his burdens.

And if not…
I hope that you know,
Someway, somehow you know,
That your nephew loves you more…
Than he ever got to show,
And you ever got to know.