"erika" poems
Palembang, 3 November
Masih ingat ku di usia muda
Saat ku dikelilingi ruang hampa
Jari tetap menggoreskan tinta
Hati tetap menerawang asa
Di hati terdalam terselip doa indah
Permohonan gadis kecil yang kesepian
Aku berdoa tapi terus bekerja
Sendirian.. Tak ada seorangpun di sekitar
Merasa orang biasa tak kan mengerti
Susah pun tuk diungkap
Tak mampi lagi berucap
Malu pun yang ada di setiap kata
Berjanji kepada Tuhan
Akan berbuat baik jika diberi teman
Tipe yang langsung mengerti akan keadaan
Dan tak harus ku ucap lagi tuk Dia dengarkan
Bisa ku dengar semua sunyi
Ada kejutan dibalik kesunyian-Nya
Akan selalu ku nanti Soulmate Aridea
Hingga Tuhan percaya aku akan membutuhkannya
Created by. Aridea Purple a.k.a Erika Maya W Handoko
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 9:32 AM UTC
This is the House That Lies Built
Copyright © 2013
By Erika Whitmore
This is the house that Lies built.
This is the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is his Greed that fueled the Lust
That drove the “Man” that lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the Loyal Woman that Got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the Urge to fill his lascivious Needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the “Maiden” all forlorn
Who ignited his Urge to fill his lascivious needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the “Man” all tattered and torn
That f*cked the “Maiden” all forlorn
Who ignited his Urge to fill his lascivious Needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is his Addiction to women and ****
That ******* the “Man” all tattered and torn
That f*cked the “Maiden” all forlorn
Who ignited his Urge to fill his lascivious Needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the **** that crows in the morn
That shone light on his Addiction to women and ****
That ******* the “Man” all tattered and torn
That f*cked the “Maiden” all forlorn
Who ignited his Urge to fill his lascivious Needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
This is the ****** for the ******** he mourns
Which now keeps the **** up that crows in the morn
That shone the light on his Addiction to women and ****
That ******* the “Man” all tattered and torn
That f*cked the “Maiden” all forlorn
Who ignited his Urge to fill his lascivious Needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
These are the Memories of those who loved him, whom he has scorned,
And traded in for ****** and the ******** he mourns
Just to dwell on the **** that crows in the morn
That shone the light on his Addiction to women and ****
That ******* the “Man” all tattered and torn
That f*cked the “Maiden” all forlorn
Who ignited his Urge to fill his lascivious Needs
So he dumped the Loyal Woman that got in the Way of his Greed
That killed the Lust that drove the “Man”
That lay in the house that Lies built.
###
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:42 AM UTC
I asked you.
Do you love me?
You replied, I guess.
That spoke more then you know.
I asked you.
Wouldn't you love to be rich?
You replied, yes.
That you surely knew.
But the question's that meant the most to me.
You treated it lackadaisical.
Yes, no spirit at all.
And now you're wondering, why you're alone?
I would say call Tyrone.
Like Erika Badu.
But he can't affrod a phone.
Let alone a home.
So this I guess.
Have affected your world.
All because you didn't give the right answer.
When asked.
If you turn it around and ask me.
I state it with truth about the way I feel for you.
There won't be this I guess.
Because you would only hear three words of truth coming to you.
I guess.
Well maybe I will.
Then again, I guess I won't.
Then again.
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
Jakarta, 25 April 2009
Kampung halamanku
Di mana tempatku dilahirkan
Di pagi hari di bulan Mei
Tanggal 20 tahun 1995
Aku diberi nama Erika
Ku dibesarkan
Sampai aku berumur 7 tahun, aku pindah ke Ibu Kota
Dengan keluargaku
Ayah, Ibu, dan adik-adikku
Aku tumbuh menjadi seorang remaja
Dan mulai merasakan jatuh cinta
Jatuh cinta pada seorang remaja pria di sekolah
Dia sangat hebat dan pintar
Dia adalah motivatorku
Tuk meraih semua mimpiku
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
Pushy Mother-F*cker
Copyright © 2013 Erika Whitmore
Pushy mother-f*cker
We doin’ this or not?
And - you can keep your ******* venom, Dude
Is that really all you got?
You lodge your disgust and hate
Like an acid punctuation
Contort your face and raise your voice?
I smile at your frustration
I grow weary at the thought of you
And tire of your pathetic jabs
It’s been eons since I said we’re through
I won’t be your punching bag
You try to walk the line and
And bide your time
And play both ends against the middle
But you better know that I’m at my prime
So, your “tactics” matter little.
I’ll take the blame
And all your “spew”
You’re so predictable it’s lame
Around we go, in circles now
But your ******** remains the same
So, get your head out of your ***
And take a look around --
You sadly think your **** don’t stink
But, like gas, I’ll have to pass
Before I’m knee deep in your brown
Your arrogant, condescending tone
Is driving me insane
So, I just hope
For your sake that you’re prepared
…‘Cause it’s about to rain!
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
Somewhere out there, there is someone
who had a Creative Writing class in college
with E.L. James.
He remembers her
as that annoying sheltered Mormon girl in class
always telling people about how great a writer she was
and reciting her bad poetry
to anyone who pretended to listen.
He remembers fondly
the time she sobbed to her friends
because of the D she got on her final project
and the time the professor told her:
"Sometimes passion just isn't enough.
You've got to have talent too."
He knew that if he never made it as a writer
at least he could take solace in the fact that
wasn't as bad as that Erika chick.
After college, he cried weekly
over his mountain of rejected manuscripts
and eventually abandoned the pursuit of his art altogether
in favor of work that pays the bills.
Years later,
he comes home from work
at his 9-12 factory job
he finally, reluctantly, gives in to his wife's demands
to take up ******* in the bedroom -
- and Mid-orgasm she calls him Christian Grey
So, what I'm saying is this:
Somewhere out there, there is someone
who killed their loving wife in sudden rage -
because of poorly written Twilight fanfiction.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
i will save time,
littlest brother.
i will wrap it up
and put it into a box
to mature,
like a rare cheese
only for you and me.
on the day
that you come to me
and want to know
what it was like
before mom left
because you won't remember,
i will open our box
and show you.
first i will take out
a lock of mom's blonde hair
that used to fall
down to her waist
and i will tell you
what it looked like
in the sunshine
while we made
daisy chains.
i will tell you
how it turned brown
later on
and how mom let me sit
on her bed
and twist, twist, twist
for hours,
because i didn't know how to braid.
and how me and Erika sat
in front of the space heater
and dried off
after a bath
mom crocheting
on the bed,
singing.
then i will remove from our box
a crisp, shriveled leaf
from the Big Tree
and i will let you smell it.
i will say,
this is what
home smells like...
never forget,
littlest brother.
i will sit you on my lap
and paint you pictures with my fingers
i will reveal to you little indian huts
and smoky firepits
and ***** chipped toes.
lastly
i will steal from time
and will take from our box,
what is rightfully ours
and i will give you
the last shred
that i have saved
for so long...
just for you, littlest brother.
i will give you mom and dad
together.
happy.
i will give you mom and dad
in their funky, attic-smelling bathing suits
mom's tummy protruding with another older sister for you
standing on the hot stones
dad's big, funny glasses
glinting in the sun,
a sun that shown down
on something whole
something perfect.
i will give you mom and dad
snuggled under a blanket
on the couch
watching a movie together
mom giving dad 'the look'
as he chuckles...
littlest brother,
i will do all i can
to create memories for you...
because everyone deserves to remember
something happy...
littlest brother,
i will steal from time
all i can
all for you...
until time decides to take back
what is rightfully his.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 8:57 PM UTC
I watched a
Documentary about
Richard Pryor
Last night.
Did you know....
He was born in a brothel,
His mother was a
********** and his
Father a one-time
Customer?
The closest Pryor ever got
To his Father was
When his Daddy
Unknowingly paid to
Create his son's life -
Inside a *****
(and daddy never once enjoyed
his investment).
But, the ******* son
Became the
Clown, and
That clown transformed
All his pain
And sorrow into
Golden coins of
Laughter.
Imagine if we could all be so brave.
- erika anne
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
I am right, I am wrong
I am Yin, I am Yang
I am a day, I am a dawn
I am the Spring, I am the Fall
I am the sun calling for the moon
I am the wind, I am the storm
I am the past, I am the future
I am right now, I am back then
I am a saint, I am a sinner
I am an angel, I am a devil
I am the faith, I am the fear
I am the good, I am the bad
I am alive, I am dead
I am the sweetest lie, I am the painful truth
I am the unexpected Hello, I am the disappointed goodbye
I am the strings, I am the tuts
I am the unwanted smile, I am the desired tears
I am the love, I am the lust
I am a champion, I am a loser
I am the painter, I am the canvas
I am the happiness, I am the sorrow
I am something, I am nothing
I am the daughter, I am the friend
I am a girl who lost a soul
-Erika C
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Inside the heart of a predator
Lives a little boy
Who once had Dreams
And Hopes
And Laughter
And
Love?
Someone once announced his birth,
Someone once threw a
Party in honor of his life, someone
Once told him good job!
Someone once must have
Cared?
(of course, I'm only assuming)
At what point did
The sweet, glowing, iridescent
Boy transform into the
Dark, murky, violent
Monster?
What childhood
Nightmare haunted
Him so terribly that it
Had the strength to
Relentlessly push him
Across the
Delicate threshold
From innocent to
Sociopath?
Or....was it just
Always
There?
We’ve all been
Dealt some unsavory
Cards in life.
Some of us use our
Unlucky hands as
Weapons of
Destruction.
Some of us use our
Unlucky hands as
Torches, lighting a
Path of Courage and Rebirth
For others to
Follow.
The predator uses his
Bad luck as a group
Of thugs protecting
His heart.
Yet, within his past
Lives the
Remedy for his
Darkest demons.
All he needs
Is the courage
To face it.
But, predators
Would rather stay
Hidden in the
Dark.
- erika anne
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
W (west), gas, construction, culture, and 500 white and 500 years, is a new threat to India the United States, PP & Coca-Cola = the United States. Canada and the United States, China, North and South America. United States of America, Canada, Australia, Italy, Germany, Italy and Southern Germany Eric's Canada, Australia and Northern Patrick Atlas "American Holmes Black Across" Integrated Network 100, Germany, South Africa, National Defense Patrizio "Cultural Test, 100-100, Brazil, Canada, insects and "cost" 100 in Belgium, e-mail, cutting, drawing, Italy, and Coca-Cola Wall - China, Canada, Germany, Australia, Canada, Brazil, 100,100 people per person. "Toner subject of South Africa, Sierra Leone, Brazil, Canada, Hermitage, Norway, Patrick John, Paris, Italy, Asia, Chinese agency instead of 100, the first ethnic drunk area in the last decade, less than News Network covering less than 100, 100 Bart Joint 40 minute flight combined 500, India, United States, Crack Eatamin B, USA, salt, Canada, Italy, Australia and United States. Erika's vacation to the United States, health, wheat, corn, Germany, Italy, Canada NRA in Brazil, argued in Canada and other countries;
Men and women have lived in the United Kingdom, the United States, Germany, Belgium, China, India and Tom Thompson (YS-USA) for many years. Water, Primary Education, Germany, Italy and the United States, Canada, Austria, Italy
But in India, the United States, Coca-Cola, the United States, Canada and the United States it's 500 years ago, India News, Meat, honey, Ionian Council (former), White Gas, Cultural and Depressed Pains, China, North America, South and North America, Coca-Cola Nation, United States, Canada, Canada, Australia, Italy, Germany, Italy and the German nations of South America; Canada, Austria Taken, and North America Ails Patrick. "American Home Black Phil" network, Germany, South Africa, Patrick Public Safety "Test culture, 100-100, 100, Brazil, Canada, Germany and "costume" Paris, Belgium, e-mail, cutting, painting, Coca-Italia. China, Ethiopia, United Flight 500 to 100 years Bartzynsk 40 hours, India, United States, Crankamin B, United States, salt, Canada, Italy, France, Australia and the United States. Rica United has thousands of men, corn and corn,
Men and women have lived in the United Kingdom, the United States, Germany, Belgium, China, India and Tom Thompson (YS-USA) for many years. Canada, Canada, Australia, Italy, Germany, Italy and Germany, Italy and Coca-Cola, United States, Canada and the United States, China, North and South America, Canada, Australia and North America, Eric "Network American Home BlackAP 100 Germany, South Africa, National Security Council Patrick" Patrick Atlas' Cultural Test, 100-100, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Nia and "Dress", Belgium 100, e-mail, Cutting, painting, music
in America grew up on Barney, Red, Green, last week, Germany, Italy
and South America, Canada, United States, Canada, Italy, Germany, Italy, Canada, Germany, Italy and France. China, Africa and the United States, Great Britain, Germany and Great Britain, Canada, Brazil.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 11:22 PM UTC
I've known you only as a quiet child.
So many years in passing spoke your name,
And hearing it would bring a fleeting smile.
I've known you only as a quiet child.
You're now a wife, a mother; all this while
It took for me to stake a father's claim.
I've known you only as a quiet child;
So many years in passing spoke your name.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
May 27, 1998.
It was a Thursday at 7:50 p.m.
I was one of two.
"Name her Isabella, because she came out screaming. She's loud, like her grandmother."
My sister was 10 minutes later, quiet and feeble.
Her name, Andreana.
After my father Andrew, who wasn't there. He died two months earlier.
My mom, obviously she was there. But not really.
Atleast she wasn't around.
We had Jamie, and Erika, and Ausra, and Deb.
Me and my sister had eachother, and my brother, when he felt like it. When your dads dead and your mom works full time--because that's the only way to make a living.
You're really, well you're an orphan.
I remember when my mom went on business trips,
I'd bang my head on the wall because I was so miserable,
I'd cry myself sick.
I would sleep next to my sister and we'd look at the stars, I remember we used to stay up late and wait for her to get home. She'd hold me and whisper "soon."
As I felt the tears from her eyes gather in my hair, and rub against my skin.
My mom would bring us home gifts, as if gifts could mend our broken hearts. As if gifts replaced the love and attention we weren't getting.
I got to first grade and I stole from my teacher, I hung out with the "bad girl" in class and we used to bully this boy. My mom wondered why I had anger management issues and why I would lie.
She threw me into therapy, because she couldn't solve these problems on her own.
Except when I went to therapy all I wanted to do was play with the games. I just wanted someone to play with me.
I just wanted someone to care.
My nannies cared.
But they weren't my mom.
And eventually they left.
When they left, then we had Maria.
Maria pushed me into the wall when I was having tantrums and grabbed my face, told me to "stop misbehaving!"
I hated Maria.
My mom cared. She cared a lot. Maybe that was the problem.
She got so caught up in caring and making sure we were cared for that she forgot how to love.
When all the other kids parents came to the Halloween parade, I never saw my mom. My sister and I would sit together, while everyone else would sit with there mommies and daddies. But hey atleast we had eachother.
Right?
My mom wasn't able to make it to Shoreline or state championship track meets, or award nights because she had to work. She wasn't there when I became captain of the track team.
My best friends mom gave me a hug, i closed my eyes and pretended it was mine.
She cared, but she was never there.
I still looked for her face in the crowd every time I stood at that starting line.
Most times when I didn't see it, I wanted to cry, but the few times I did, I wanted to cry even harder.
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 4:00 PM UTC
Early in her years she was somewhat abandoned.
Rejected by the only family she knew, unwanted and with no arms to hang on.
Independently she faced a cruel and an uncomforting world.
Keeping her tears hidden inside while she shows us only her most beautiful smile.
A damsel in great distress without anyone to lean on and just weep and cry.
Years passed by and she became a mother.
One little angel, her lovely daughter.
Her reason to go on with life and not think of anymore struggles.
Kept herself back on track and didnt mind the hurdles.
One or two relationships that broke her heart, also became the reason that she had to restart.
Now she has a house of her own that she can always call home.
One fine job that pays more than she could ever hone.
Zestfully she faces the world with a whole new view.
And still smiles but no more tears behind them, for this time they are true.
Keeping on moving forward and thats how she plays it.
It doesnt matter if you lose or win the game, its how you played it.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
I met you at the Summer warmth
I love you at the beautiful Spring
I miss you at the gloomy Fall
I lost you at the Winter winds
-Erika
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
You Are Not Alone*
Copyright © 2013
By Erika Whitmore
You are not alone
You will never be forgotten.
At the rising of the moon
Through the beams illuminating
Through the starlight reverberating,
Sonorous
Blissful angels weeping
O’er enchanting, echoed voices
… you resonate with me
Tones upon tones upon…
The stars… these ancient stars
Reflecting
In pools and rings…
…that beget rings that beget rings…
Never-ending
Flowing in, ebbing out
In all, in everything
That surrounds you, that’s in me
Blue-azure-and green jade tumbling water
It is so beautiful,
Beyond what words can speak.
…It is you.
Now nothing…
Quiet, falling snow of cotton
Dark and heavy heart
But you are not alone -
…and we are not apart.
And you will never…
Be forgotten.
~
(For My Beloved Ahira and Inspired by and written while listening to: “I Can Hear the Moon Rising,” “Rapture” and “Love Is Surrender” by Kip Mazuy on www.calm.com)
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
To someone you will always be
the best friend in the world
To someone you will always be
the brightest person they know
To someone you will always be
...The first person they want to call
To someone you will always be
the right person for the job
and to someone you will always be
the most beautiful girl in the room
©Rachel-erika Henderson 2010
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
The words
He searches the words
to describe the exquisite person
Stand before him
The words
“Nonsense! How can my excruciating words
describe her exceptionally lovely presence ” he says
The words still won’t come out
Inexplicably…
As she walks towards him
As he lays his eyes upon her
As she says
” Hi I am your eve “
-Erika
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
Tik Tok Tik Tok….
I’ve always said I would call you
to tell you how much I love you
But there is always a tomorrow, right?
So I didn’t call you that night
I’ve always said I would write you a poem
that describes your beautiful soul
But there is always another day, right?
So I didn’t make you one
I’ve said I would come over to your house
But there is always another morning, day, and night, right?
So I didn’t make it yesterday
and today
How long will I stay like this
In a comfort bed
My soul paints a dark still life
The piano plays me a death march
Mind wanders thinking about tomorrow
” There is always tomorrow “
Till I know the skies run out of stars
Till The moon has lost its beam
Till The sun is overshadowed by black clouds
Till The trees are paralyzed
no longer dance with the wind
Till the books run out its pages
Till the eyes are reddened by blood
Till the tides go back to the ocean
Till I know I’ve lost her.
Because of my tomorrow
-Erika
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
I dreamed of love
A drowsy girl
Awakened my sleeping thoughts
With burning memory
And the inertia of hope
Unexpected,
This sudden pull of gravity in my mind
Has sent me tumbling back to consciousness.
Gasping,
Cold plastering clothes to skin
Wondering
Where did my warmth go?
I miss those imaginary arms
That kissed me easily
More surreal than our fantastic surroundings
Less beautiful than her trust in me
Just as perfect as anything dreamed
Her name was Erika
My name was a blush and a hello
In the beginning.
But by the end,
"I'm so happy."
We climbed through windows and laughed about nothing
We played with wolves
We walked, we walked,
So many hills and not an unsure step.
I met her mother, she met mine
Both were so proud of us.
She made me useless things that I treasured more than practicality itself
And I could feel her pride when I hugged her for them.
Shy at first,
Sitting on a bed,
I asked her
"Where are you from?"
She mumbled,
"I don't know."
I said "that's not from around here."
She hadn't taken her eyes from mine. Now she managed two words:
" I'm lost."
And suddenly, I knew I was lost for her too.
We met for the first time in a hotel with no purpose
But meeting her has become the only purpose.
Though I wish so badly to go back to sleep,
Something vital inside me is more awake than it has ever been
Now I will keep my eyes forever open
Until I find her warm embrace once again.
And when her smile buries itself in my chest
I can finally close them.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
erika's coming back in two weeks.
ah, the prodigal sister
who promised me that she'd give anything to spend the summer
with me
her
bestfriend
me who's
been alone
all year already
and trying to be ok
but no, she has to stay at school during the summer
study with her voice professor
launch her career
i
*******
get it
but give her
one day
and she calls dad
says she's going to kentucky
for the summer
to have fun
on her own
...oh.
i really don't remember ever being that angry
or hurt
i remember throwing things
and kicking a chair
and my foot even bled
and i swore at dad
and sobbed
and it was ridiculous
but it was how my insides felt.
and now she is back
for two weeks
and then gone again
i'm looking for somewhere to be
for two weeks
anyone want to
adopt me
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 5:49 AM UTC
All I have is myself -
my one and only
til “death” do we part
Self.
I should probably start
treating me better.
Despite flaws and embarrassments and deep shame -
I’m all I’ve got.
Life is as short as it is long.
It’s time to be a champion for me;
my talents
my desires
my wishes
my dreams.
Because no one but me can live well in the present and no one but me can co-create my future.
And no one but me can forgive me for my past... ~erika anne
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
Just this time
And maybe one more
My brother, sweet and new
He knows nothing of this world yet
So new to life, still breathing in
these wafting breaths
Water can we not live without, yet stumbling
Needing the poison of a thousand years
Death must come and nothing breaking
My eyes! That green!
What happened to Erika?
I heard she’s met her mate
And lived happily
Ever after
This dream is my Wake
I’m just a part of this world. And I miss them so much.
They had blond hair as children and I’m blind.
The color of tree bark was mine.
how hard it must be to be his Sister.
And she scolded.
I cried because of this tenderness that follows brotherhood.
Will he ever know?
His eyes are covered like the blindness I’ve received.
I guess this impairment brings sympathy.
In time, a baby from a child.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
Another year in your life, another 12 months your heart has been beating. Another 365 days your lungs have been taking in air. I hope you have lived so much that your heart skipped beats, and your lungs lost their breath. I hope you did so much living that your organs couldn't quite keep up with you. I hope your heart swelled with love and that you always reached for the stars. I hope you smiled every chance you got and that you were able to jump out of your comfort zone. I hope you made memories to be remembered for a lifetime and that you touched the lives of others. I hope you do even more living this coming year. I know there are big things waiting for you at 27, and i can't wait to see all the beautiful things god has in store for you. I hope you embrace each and every one of them, and truly live.
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC
I am not afraid.
because I am alone.
People die one day and will be gone.
I say to me nothing is permanent
if u wish, you can also be The President.
President of the United States of America.
I said but my friends laughed at me.
Even my beloved sister Erika.
They say I am out of meds.
Told me to always stay in my bed.
I feel pain.
But...
they say I am insane.
And I kept chanting
'Without pain, nothing you can gain'
I go outside to the park.
I watch people pass by.
Till it gets dark
I sit there watching all.
This world is very big.
I am too small.
I believe in god
He will make things all right.
My dreams will no longer be dreams
It will come true.
what else is life for.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 7:08 AM UTC