"childern" poems
Today in an overweight society,
The type of society that deals anxiety,
Anxiety, anxiety, in this overweight society.
Today in an overweight society,
The type of society where diet pills are a normality,
Normality, Normality in an overweight society.
Today in the eyes of an underweight tragedy,
Influenced so greatly by an overweight society,
Tragedy, Tragedy, in an overweight society.
Influenced by a society of fatty foods,
Fear becoming a more common mood,
The fear of falling into the normality
The normality of this tragedy.
The overweight society.
Influence by obesity.
Striving to be what their minds see,
The minds of the children trapped,
Trapped by this overweight society.
Influenced by the skinny girls on TV
Only followed by ads showing fatty foods society demans you eat
Have a cheeseburger, upgrade to a large fry, yet still look like her, it's pounded in her mind.
Young minds believe what they see.
Morphed into the tragedy of society.
A society where eating disorders strive
A society where an 8 year old can consious you starve themselve to feel pretty.
The definition of pretty based simply on TV
Yet nobody questions this more than imperfect society.
Elementary ages childern being fed fat then forced to stand in front of a mirror.
Put a toy in poison and call it magic.
Oh yes, what a fantasy.
A fantasy forcing you into reality.
The reality becoming your worst nightmare.
The reality of your fears driven by society.
I'm overweight, yet pizza is the best choice for a happy family.
A society where mental illness strives.
Why can't people open their eyes?
Spoon feeding childern poison and expecting them to love themselves.
In school teachers force health into thier minds.
At home, parents feed them poison to save time.
Re-creating, reprogramming their fragile little minds, yet still expecting them to feel fine.
Feeling down?
Have a happy meal, gain a pound.
Overweight?
Shame, shame, you must maintain the image.
The image forced into your mind.
This was our greatest fall.
Upon dieting we call.
Skelington stave me.
Anorexia at it's finest.
Anorexia thin and spineless.
Some call you timeless.
But only recently you made your debute.
Make me feel brand new.
Reprogram my mind.
Make me feel fine.
Thank God for thinsperation.
Oh Anorexia, my new inspiration.
Make me feel pretty.
Just like the skinny girls on TV.
Loosing pounds, one by one.
Still weighed down by a ton.
The weight of pleasing it.
The nightmare society created.
Influenced by what we see.
Finally morphed into the tragedy of the normality of this weight obsessed society.
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
Once upon a time
There stood a frigid little snowman
With finger holes for eyes
Which spoke no truth nor lies
Two twigs made his disfigured arms
And a stoll for keeping him "warm"
There he stood with all his smiley charm
From the dusk until the dawn!
His head covered with dad's old beret
And a stalky little carrot nose
Oh yes,He was our brave little snowman
Who grew as he further froze.
Then came the mighty spring
Putting our little snowman at risk!
And then came the sunshine
Leaving only the beret,stoll and the twigs.
Months passed by
Winter came again
And Childern came along
With the Brave little snowman!
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
What am i living for
Am i living for the hope that diminishes with time
Am i living for my family whom i was a great disappointment
Am i living for the happiness or love that never seems to arrive
Am i living for the 58dollars i got paid as my monthly salary
Am i living for the plans i made i never got the mobilities to acheive them
Maybe life treats some people preferencially
Maybe life has her own people she favours with time
Maybe life is a politician who make empty promises
Maybe life is discriminating
Maybe life believed in the concept of favouriitism and
The principle of godfatherism
Why do some people enjoy this life as if they created it
The live a luxurous life
Intimidating the poor and surpressing them
They drive the most espensive cars and splashes water at the poor
Some poor are there begging for a square meal
They never know what is happiness
All they do is find somewhere they could eat for the day a d move on
Life is really a politician
Life has people she made rich and people she made poor with time
Life has people she cares for and people she didnt care if they live or die
The poor suffers the most expensive sickness in the world today
With no money to cure them and they finally die with time
Malnutrition has caused the death of many childern and adult whom the principle of favouritism and godfatherism wasnt on there side
They work all day to provide food and shelter for there family
There 12hrs work per day to a month was spent on food and rent having nothing to save
There kids kids could not go to school due to the huge amount of school fees
Oh life
Oh life
Is time you start considering the tears of the poor
Oh life
Is time you remember the poor and favour them too
Is time you circulate the principle of favouritism and godfatherism and not monopolising it
Is time you give the poor reason to believe it worth to stay alive
Is time you restore the hope they already lost in you
Other than this the cry of the poor remains
What am i living for
What am i living for
What the hell am i living for
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
Premature, they died at birth. Twin brothers and I too am their brother.
They were born 5 years before me. Jared Scott and Trevor Alexander. I was born with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, and they were so small they could fit in the palm of your hand.
They were kept in glass boxes: incubators humanizing glass bodies shattering aliens in fabricated wombs. Clear tubes ran from each nostril to machines with numerical equations that simulate abnormal infant’s breathing pattern. Their hearts were UFO’s, unidentifiable, black hole brain matter with lungs like space vacuums.
“They came too soon.” I was told
Possibly cremated, I can’t remember what my parents said.
When I was younger, I thought babies couldn’t die.
*****
Upon my birth, my parents gave me the twin’s middle names: as if some fusion of sunlight and stardust could manifest into a third being, still stuck on earth with the cord around his neck.
Cortex in cortex. Conjoined astronauts sharing intersections of skin, fluids, and bone. We are of flesh and blood, yet I did not know them. They are more than childern, but intersteller beings, cellestials and heavenly bodies.
Twin constellations, Gemini, comparable to Castor and Pollux themselves. Their fates were left up to the stars, but they were not spaceships, they were meteorites burning out in unearthly fires. Without a fighting chance, their flames were stifled.
“Mayday.mayday……….. Mothership.is………………………crashing…..… ……………Mother……board.short-circuiting……………..……… Firing 3rd……….. ……thruster…… Firing………….. 5th.thruster……… 10 minutes ..till…...…….…... ………………………………………..impact……………………………………….……
recharging ……….......flux.capacitors……………………..Oxygen..Nitrogen…..…..
……………..Burning……………..… up in atmosphere……………..….5.mintues.till ..impact…………………Suffocation…........Fuel.exhaustion…………1 minute…….
………….45…...seconds………….Depletion..............30.seconds………….............................................................................................................................................
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Planetary. Collision……… ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………15.seconds…………………………………………………………... ………………………… Planetary. Collision……………………………………………
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….………………...………The sun is so bright …………….…………………………………………………………..…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………”
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
alcohol.
saves her, so she thinks.
truth is,
it makes her beat her childern.
throw them up against walls.
spit in their faces.
call them names.
scar their minds forever.
the bruises.
broken ribs.
shes pretty decent most of the time, days and nights.
I hate my mother.
not really, i hate the fact that she drinks.
but its alright, its only sometimes she gets that way.
oh well, two more years and im out of there.
love you mum.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 7:54 PM UTC
FORGIVING IS WHEN U CAN’T LET THEM GOO
HOW FORGIVING SHOULD A DAUGHTER BE TOWARDS HER FATHER
HOW FORGIVING SHOULD AMOTHER TOWARDS HER CHILDERN
HOW FOR GIVING SHOULD A WIFE BE TOWARDS HER HUSBAND
Dec 16, 2023
Dec 16, 2023 at 8:52 AM UTC
I was taken out from my mother's womb by a doctor's hands.
I was taken to my mother for the first milk by a nurse's hands.
I was welcomed to my family with a rejoice by my grandma's hands.
I was cared; when I cry ;by my mother's mighty hands.
I took my firststep with the support of my father's hands
When I went to school I hold tightly on my sister's hands.
In my college days my hands were in my lover's hands.
After my marriage I hold on my husband's hands
When I become a mother I searched for my childern's hands
As I grew old and weak I walk by holding my daughter's hands.
I was fed my daily meals by my son's hands.
The coffin that I am now is made by a carpenter's hands.
The bouquet which is laying on my chest is made by some other's hands.
So many hands helped me to complete my life..
So many hands are needed to get buried..
I'm waiting for a heavenly hand which could raise me to eternal life...
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 12:39 PM UTC
I go around writing songs
Of love, hate, and fear
Humans' heart and childern's dreams
Lost among melodies and notes
Until you came
And put me in your song
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 7:25 AM UTC
Love, don't worry
About this story
I write for us
Please do trust
In me
Soon you shall see
There are no endings
Only more beginnings
Our lifes are true
We came together like it was on cue
See our story may end
But in the exposition one has begined
Our childern well pass on our story
So please dont worry
For there is no ending
Just the sound of the binding bending
And my pencil may break
Or my hands start to ache
But i look at a pen like a flame to an arsonist
Picking it up to start making things permanent
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 1:00 PM UTC
When I was 19 I was pregnant and lost my first baby when I was 22 I was pregnant with my husband found out it was a tubal pregnancy. Found out the odds of me carrying we're slim to none and if I did the baby would be dead or another tubal and would die anyways. I succomed myself to this fate. I became ok with it just being me. I don't want children anyways 26 I thought something was wrong I went to the doctor found out I was pregnant it attached just barely in the right place yet I had plecenta previa in the process. I felt betrayed by my own body felt this foreign object growing inside me was a parasite why. I was ok with me. Why did it have to be like this. Slowly as it grew I started to change my mind. I started to fall in love. It would kick me in the night and I grew accustomed to its tiny little fluttering. It was mine all mine...man I didn't know what love was. Yet there was a promblem. I wanted so much more for it than I could give. I wanted it with me always yo love on to cherrish but i knew this wasn't about me it was about what was best for it. Then the day came who was it going to be her or him. He was so beautiful seeing him n the screen watching him move. I decided then I had to give him to someone who can give him everything I can't. I would never not be there still but I couldn't povide for him the way he needed I couldn't give him stability. My own issues would project on to this innocent little defensless child and there was nothing I could do. 8 months later I woke in a pool of blood. Two days later my son came into this world I had him then I gave him up. You don't have to own someone to love them. Open adoption is a beautiful thing but my son is always 4 hours away from me and not a moment goes by when I don't miss him. I can't have any more childern doctors were fearful about how close I came to bleeding and although I signed the papers to get fixed they agreed that it was a good decision the likely hood of me having another child safely was too risky. I almost died bringing him into this world but I would died a million times to do it again...I love you still and everything I do is for you always.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC