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Willa Kong Nov 2016
I struggle to grasp the remains of Denmark’s warmth
As silent tears of grief run down my porcelain cheeks.
Each night grows colder in the emptiness of my bed,
The crown a deadweight.

Black fabric cloaks the kingdom,
Blending in with the grey clouds that gather in the sky,
Weighing down the crown,
Drowning everyone in a dark sea.

But I saw the face of my husband--
No, the face of a brother.
Yet he shares the same slanting eyes
The peaks on his forehead
And the curves of his lips.

That face washes away the pain in my heart
As he smiles with kindness that reflects that of the old King.
He warms the silk sheets of my barren bed
And shares the weight of the crown.

Now, white silk touches the hearts of Denmark,
A contrast to the grey clouds looming in the sky,
Lightening the gold of the crown,
Lifting everyone onto a bright cloud.

I close my eyes and my thoughts drift to dear Hamlet.
What a tragedy for him to lose a father
And it is my duty to give him one.

All that lives must die,
But my husband is not one life that must.
An eleventh year poetry assignment based on the play Hamlet by William Shakespeare. This is told through Queen Gertrude's POV and why she might've married Claudius.
Willa Kong Aug 2016
I remember the first breath of life
the blinding light of an innocent world
and the warmth of love and endearment.

I remember the first wobbly steps
through gurgles of a language only I understood
and the toothless smile reflected off my twin on the wall.

I remember the first spark of friendship
when I laughed and you laughed
and we smiled as the red string around our fingers tightened.

I remember the first pounding of my heart
when I locked eyes with smiling eyes
and I swore my heart was racing with the winds.

I remember the first ***** of betrayal
with screams and stares of hate and anger
hands trembling as we cut off the tied red string on our fingers.

I remember the first swell of pride
when I presented a night’s worth of work
and was showered with praise and adoration with smiles painted everywhere.

I remember the first door to literature
with the intoxicating smell of ink and weathered down pages
and lives spoken through words and feelings.

I remember my first shattered heart
frozen and numb with shock and acceptance
with thoughts only on why?

I remember the first light of love
through hugs and accepting smiles
adding to my growing smile and happiness.

I remember the first heartfelt separation
with happy excitement and tearful goodbyes
as I left without looking back.

I remember the first new beginning
as I stared at the foreign neighborhood
and wondered about the million possibilities that laid within it.

I remember the first dawning realization
when I stood alone and clueless
and knew that nobody would come to help me.

I remember the first timid attempt
as I spoke up and tried to connect
desperately clawing myself out of my protective hole.

I remember the first true smile
laughing and giggling and chuckling with friends
in the open air of freedom away from the confined hole.

I remember the first repeats into my shell
when being brave and assertive was too much
and the hole seemed so much more than just a jail.

I remember the first self-hatred
with fear imprinted in my eyes
and how could I let myself continue this way?

I remember the first new change
from the moldable girl who lost her way
to the fiery girl who decided to carve her own path.

I remember the first self-love
when I looked in the mirror and didn’t flinch
as I saw a beautiful girl who worked for what she wanted.

I remember many things,
many firsts of my life,
many positives and negatives,
many unforgettable moments,
which still continue on within a girl;
on and on until the end of time.
What I remember about the important firsts.
Willa Kong Nov 2015
A white page
The blankness staring mockingly at me
Mocking what I haven’t done
What I should’ve done
And what will never be done

A pencil
The tip barely brushing the surface
Yet staying paralyzed with no courage to scrape across
Knowing that the smudges will stay as scars
And forever mar the picture

Time flows forward
The page staying perfectly blank
No mistakes and no accidents
Perfection at its best
Surrounded with the pure whiteness of fear
To signify the regrets I had and the picture I should be painting on my page.
Willa Kong May 2015
I am chained
Bound by feelings unwanted
Never moving forward
Forcefully imprisoned

You are free
Liberated from your weights
Walking forward and not looking back
Flying as a bird

We are broken
With the sword of love
Intertwined in a web of feelings returned
And not returned

Love is the lightest feeling
And the heaviest burden
Rejecting someone is not easy. I've done it only once but it still hurts. This is what it feels like to be on the other end of unrequited love.
Willa Kong Apr 2015
Ignorance is bliss
Feeling light and free of darkness
Merely floating atop of an unknown abyss
Yet never seeing the hands that keep you floating

Smiling without a doubt
Walking with your head in the clouds
Unaware of a dark shroud
Suppressed by unnoticed hands

Bathed with an innocent light
Finding stars in a starless night
Creating miracles with a smile just as bright
And with hands never seen

You stand untainted by the dark
A place so sacred and yearned for
You hold one of the last sparks
For these ***** and hidden hands will fight the war

For you
To protect you
To shield that spark

Ignorance is bliss
At the cost of another’s happiness
My thoughts on what ignorance really is.
Willa Kong Apr 2015
Each life is nothing but a small snowflake.

Each is unique,
beautiful,
fragile,
and soft.

Each lasts for merely a moment in time,
but its impact lasts.

Each can create dangerous blizzards,
only when many decide to hate.

But.

Each can create a soft snowfall,
as beautiful as a White Christmas,
when many decide to love.

So.

Life can be a snowstorm
or
a tranquil snowfall.
An analogy with life through snowflakes.
Willa Kong Oct 2013
I'm from the land of candy, which is as rare as gold.

I'm from the land where fruits are our desserts and rice is a must.

I'm from the land where cheese is a treat and milk is banned.

I'm from the land where determination is my Parliament Building,

The Library is my City Hall,

Technology is my Plaza,

And Music is my Town Square.

I'm from the land where Math is our School,

Lucy Maud Montgomery is our teacher,

And Creativity are our Artists.

I'm from the land of pine-smelling air and strokes of sunburn.

Where laughter is heard at every corner.

I'm from the land of a Dominating Dad and a Mature Mom.

I'm from the land of a Busy Brother whom is somewhat caring.

I'm from the land which changes constantly,

Hot and Cold,

And is always forgetful.

I'm from the land where Pheonix Wright is our King and Meg Cabot is our Princess.

I'm from the land where friends are our special jewels,

And family is priceless.

I'm from the land where my valuables are my memories

And I'm still collecting them.
An English assignment in eighth grade describing my life.
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