"brused" poems
I pray for peace
For I dont want to keep fighting
My first are brused
My breath is faint
My shoulders cant hold this weight
Depression is taking over
I pray for happiness
For I am starting to forget my smile
I placed my most prized possession in the hands of the unworthy.
I am a seed that never got to grow
So young and dumb how was I supposed to know
You can't expect to be a tree when you surround yourself in bad soil.
You will rot
I pray for independence
For I cant seem to love myself anymore
She took my confidence when she walk out the door.
She left all her luggage
I carry it around with me just incase we cross paths
I pray we never cross paths
For I'm not strong enough to stand on my own
I fear she'll always be my comfort zone
She never really understood the unknown
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 11:27 AM UTC
Brused and beaten
Battered and bashed
This is how I look every day
Nobody cares and nobody notices
I cry
my tears are pain as they roll down my face
I walk
Every step as gentle as can be
I looked to you and you were gone
Out of sight
I can't trust
I don't rely on anyone but myself
I fight and I lash
Just to be set free
Away from the pain
Away from the misery
Only to give up hope
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC
We were born on the same day
I was humble as he cried
I lay in a plantation, he was in a private Ward
Am a grown farmer, he is a stylist
my mom laboured on duty
Hers was a high heeled figure
I cried for porridge and given water
He cried for ribena and given juice
I leaked the soil as he was on sweets
I missed class for I lacked fees
He missed to have a break
My hustle gave me success, their money spoke
Streets give me deals
But gives them traffic
Monthly earnings are his daily
That my miles are my footsteps
My opportunities are his dislikes
I climb as he flies
Our blood is red, able parents,
Different levels of dreams
My caliber is well defined
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
just in a snap my world turns to black
im shoved in a hole that is ***** and cold
beaten and brused from being over used
consistent resistence but your hatfull words are persistent
in flaws i fold in death im bold
but theres noone to hold cause theres noone that showed
just in a snap my world turns to black
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 11:19 AM UTC
bought a second book to write between the pages.
Sometimes I make corrections
On words that are only wrong to me
Sometimes I try to write the wrongs
That no one else can see.
Sometimes I tear the pages out
And scatter them in the fire
I rewrite those words over again
Late at night untill I tire.
Sometimes my dust cover slips away,
And my hardback seen beneath.
With brused wet edges torn away,
Like a wolf that shows its teeth.
I do not want the world to see
scribbles, drawn in many stages
So I bought myself a second book.
To write between the pages.
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 9:57 AM UTC
Folder: Humanity
I saw them beating you and I could do nothing.
I could not watch anyfurther
you could not scream they would not let you
they would not stop untill you did
I felt sooooo guilty.
I had done nothing for any of you.
i didnt even speak out
I carry your scream with me
I met you on Facebook.
tortured blackened and brused and still they hurt you
still they beat you on the cold floor with boy shorts
evil. evil. evil.
I cry for you
I bleed tears for you
you are my son as much as my own
the terror of your heart
the pain in your soul
the breaking of your body
wont leave me.
I couldnt even share it.
I am a coward.
Evil is as evil does.
blood shed and pain are no Godly ways
Sin is Sin.
I love you for your pain young boy not looking of even 16
I hurt for you
and I loved you the moment I saw your hopless bravery
I know nothing of the other pain only what was shown
I thank you beautiful boy who suffered and suffer and the hands of evil men
You dearest young man have brought me closer to my God
my lovely lamb if I could hold you take it all for you
if I had the courage to do more than see the hopelessness through these tears
dear sweet boy you have saved my soul
may the lord save yours
Dear God,
Please...
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 8:39 AM UTC
People use to throw me behind their shadows but I know i can't win this battle. People judge how i look but some people don't know that you can read them like a book, page by page, cover by cover always tells a different story. But there is one that you still haven't heard and that story is mine. I know that i am not boring so here is my story, When i was born i felt like there was a storm. The smoke of all the drugs fill the air as i feel it hit my bare skin. i was abused and brused and i can't handle it no more and now from telling this story supposly i am a skinny ***** but i tht is not true. As my page by page covers in blood i no that i still haven't won i think my pain is going away but it getd worst the next day. It feel that if sucide is calling my name but i can't end this day think my loved ones will never get to no my real life and it may scare some people may say that i am insane but this is me and my story no one have the right to judge me for who i am i am me and no one is going to change that.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
I bought a second book to write between the pages.
Sometimes I make corrections
On words that are only wrong to me
Sometimes I try to write the wrongs
That nobody else can see.
Sometimes I tear the pages out
And scatter them in the fire
Sometimes I try to rewrite those words
Late at night untill I tire.
Sometimes my dust cover slips away
And my hardback seen beneath.
With brused wet edges torn away
Like a wolf that shows its teeth.
I do not want the world to see
scribbles, drawn in many stages
So I bought myself a second book.
To write between the pages.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC