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M-E Jul 2018
I’m the nameless, nobody
Born of a nameless, nonexistent mum
And a nameless, nonexistent dad
In a placeless city
New in town and I don’t mind
To re-shape my mind
By a town that is so ruthless,
So thoughtless and -
Maybe
I am feeble
But certainly in a new form
A new coming storm,
A cyclone,
A cyclops,
A mongrel
Annihilating,
Devastating,
Decapitating your approval and pity
I’m glass, seen through and sharp
An undecipheral writing
Meticulously weird and uncanny
I’m a boy, a girl
A maniac,
A brainiac,
A pyromaniac,
A junior granny
It’s funny
Wondering why I’m the way I am
You sculptor -
I’m leaving,
Somewhere where I will not find you
For the bullied and the forgotten generation.

Can’t we find a solution instead of demolition, intentionally or unintentionally?
Sara Kellie Oct 2018
I'm here.
You lost your way kid
and I can't see you no more.
Did the lights go out?
Did the mist decend?
You lost your way kid
and I can't see you no more.

The light's back on
and the mist has gone
. . . and I'm here,
so I can see you once more.
I'm here kid.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Inspiration from 'Leave a Light On' by Tom Watson.
Well...
**** this ****,
I don't even try to feel like this.
I just want that pretty boy to hit.
I hate his face,
his name is the worse.
He'll be wishing
he left our fight in a hearse.
I don't wanna be angry,
violent
or ******.
But this kid,
just wants a date with my fist.
This jealously
just makes me ******* ill,
and in a duel for your love,
I would never kneel.
I'm sorry
this is the way I feel.
I just want you
more than anything else.
But you say,
I can't have you to myself.
So when your gone,
I write you things.
For that is what my emotion brings.
I'll fight for your love,
every single day.
Because right now,
there's no other way.
laura Feb 2018
you run while i gasp and die
uphill as i try to be near you

let’s just scream it all out
make it ring out through the forest
like the trees need to hear our drama

the main battle of the year’s just started
offering the country most beautiful
but your girl’s just not into the drive
in the dark just playing catchup to you
Nis Jun 2018
I remember you little kid.
You always were the first in school
even though that didn't make you really cool.
You did not care about you body,
you treated it just like another toy.

But just like this poem's rime
you became a broken toy.
Your mind so full of stars
became silent in shame
over your broken soul.

You killed yourself when we were twelve.
I was left alone.
Alone with your body
in a room
with no doors.

I tried to cry over you rotting body
but the tears wouldn't come out anymore.
We used to cry together over childish things,
but now I am alone and I feel like actually crying
yet it won't happen so I try to laugh.
We used to laugh
all
the
time
but I no longer can
for you are not here,
only your carcase is.
Only your ****** carcase.

You used to say:
"Laugh because you are sad,
cry because it'll make you happy"
and maybe I agree, so I'll remember it.

I'll remember you as if you were real.
I'll remember you as if you existed
far above the page I'm writing in,
but you don't.
Yet your body is tied to mine
rotting in this room with no doors
and I hope I can forget you once more.

It's surprising the power words have on people.
I could have tried to **** myself at 12,
but it never crossed my mind.
I tried to **** myself a couple of times,
yet here I am.
Remembering you kiddo.
Don't dig to much into it, it's kind of random.
As a kid
I jumped on beds,
Ran across chairs,
And crawled under tables.

I explored jungles,
Danced with princes,
And fought in battles.

I hid in closets
And the occasional fridge.
Even under cars.

I jumped off monkey bars,
Twirled around light poles,
And chased after birds.

I raced the wind,
Climbed trees,
And gathered candy.

And now
I walk through fields,
Go around fences,
And gather berries.

I trek through puddles,
Turn around in chairs,
And chase down a cup of tea.

I hide behind books
And under covers.
Often behind a desk.

I explore archives,
Dance in clubs,
And fight for more time.

I jump on trains,
Walk down the street,
And crawl through stores.

And still today,
I feel like a kid.
I can
Make my CHILD learn
-
By preaching
By teaching
By giving
Knowledge of
Sharing
Caring
Loving

But...
She will not learn
by preaching
Rather
She will learn
By my ACTIONS..!!

If I don't
Share MY things
With My
Friends
Neighbours
Siblings
Cousins

She will learn NOTHING..!

I can make her
learn to share.
By making her give -
Clothes to needy
Toys in orphanage
Candies to the deprived.

But with GIVING she will
just learn to be PROUD
Rather
If she learns by seeing me SHARING
She will become HUMBLE..!!


To raise a humble kid is my priority..!!

Sparkle In Wisdom
11 Jan 2019
Inspired by a incidence I heard at friends place.. after the whole episode the first thought that struck was
What actions will the kids remember and grow on??
Daniel Ruiz Sep 2018
if you sit in my room,
and with a good angle look outside,
you'll see a plantain tree,

in the house behind that plantain tree,
lives a little kid who called me an *******
for throwing his ball back a little too hard,

behind that plantain tree,
lives a kid who has got in
a lot of fights,

a kid that has a great scar that no one can see,
that no fight or bad words can fulfill.

well,
let me rephrase that,

behind that plantain tree,
lives a 70 year old woman,
who's daughter died,
and had to raise a kid on her own.

a plantain stain it's not removable,
a plantain stain,
stays in ones clothe, and skin.

the same way tendons break,
and leaves scars on ones heart.

that plantain tree hasn't given any plantains,

but it does work for a great metaphor.
Anthony Esposito Oct 2017
You wanna be a cool kid,
But your not a cool kid.
You wanna be a winner, but you've never won before.
You wanna see the real world, but you've never lived before.

Disco ball above your head,
Lazers, lights, the beat in your head.
You wanna be a cool kid, but your not made for this.
You wanna be a cool kid, but your not cool kid.

Dreams come true, but not for you.
Love is real, but you can't deal.
The perfect life is real,
But your not cool enough.

You wanna be cool,
You wanna break all the rules.
You can't be cool because your not a cool kid.
Finn Parker Jan 30
I thought I prepared myself this time
Convinced I could lower my guard
I let down my walls for just a second
I let them kick me while I'm down
But it's winter
And I always forget
It hurts much worse in the cold
L B Dec 2018
Was I ten?
I think?
Was it December?
that I became distracted
by the snow's
falling
silence?

The ******'s hills lure me
off
the curving walk
Toward home--
I surely know
my way--
though
path invisible
snow beyond my knees

now
but for the patterns of the trees
that etch the skyline

My love....
...were it not for those
I would be lost

My feet lift depths
Impassible
The snow
impossible--
could be this deep?
could take this much
should trudge so far
beyond
my depth
my breath
a fog-- of
all
I own

I am wading in the white
down-warmth
Sweat
in spite--
of freezing
of parental threat...
wind brings tears
to reddened cheeks
Toes, long since numb
...and I am late-- as always

Wipe my nose on sleeve
Pull mittens with my teeth
fumbling
tissues damp in pocket deep

I have gone so far
too far
into the ******'s windings
with my mind

and night is falling
Night is watching
from the hemlocks
now behind
my purpose--
only
in
the gray of sky
the ghostly silence
of the moon rise

I don't know where night came from
How it got here
why I came
only that I want to linger--
longer
than that twinge of fear

Listen...

soft tick
of snow
against itself

Wind in white pines
saddest of living things
begs a loan of time and winter winds
I had been reading Frost's "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" again, and I think I know just where he was.

Yup, in trouble.  Street lights definitely on.

******:  Irish, for a small narrow wooded valley with a brook, in other words--
the back woods behind my house.
James LR Jun 2018
America is wonderful!
Opportunities are plentiful!
Believe whatever you want
Whatever cause feel free to flaunt.
But stop and look around and see
The orphaned birthright of poverty.
And when reality starts sinking in,
Harden your heart, and toughen your skin.
Turn away the ***** and blind.
The fault is theirs. And never mind
The families we tear apart.
Sometimes I reminisce about my kid days, sometimes I wish I could go back and be conscious of all the great it was
Well, that was after we escaped the dim days, I’d wake up to a little house with two back yards and adventures awaited us
Me and my lil’ brother that was, we’d fight all day like any siblings
But we tagged along and cooperated too, played games until our eyes needed chillin
We had fun in those woods, dirt bikes, four wheelers, anything with an engine that sounded good
Summertime was the most fun, Fourth of July shenanigans, bein beach bums, winter time sledding and Christmas love
Tried doing things as a family unit as much as possible, going out to dinner with laughing that was unstoppable
Visiting my workaholic/lazy grandpa, wasn’t sure if I’d wear him out or he’d wear me out half the time, and my crazy loving nana
Sitting here older all I can do is think, I appreciate and will never let fade the memories of all my kid days.
Nathan Alexander Aug 2018
He cries somewhere over, where nobody sees...
He's the kid...
With the story no one would believe.

He thinks every night,
"Hey "God", if you're there, would you please...
Could you send someone here, who will love me?"

Who will love me, for me?
Not for what I have done or what lies I've tried to become.
'Cause nobody has shown me,
What love really means...

His thinking, and mood, is down falling, a little each day...
He's the guy, who's last girlfriend has cheated, upped, and ran away.
But that's not to say,
His others weren't the same.

He'll secretly go to the gym,
Try to eat, every week's third day,
Tell no one, repeat.

Maybe if he was bigger, more muscular, and happy, someone would stay.

He's waiting to die, as he sits it out,
...All alone.

And he's scared, because by now, it feels just like home.
Daniel Ruiz Aug 2018
I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring huh?

i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,

i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel

i call myself a poet

but what am i?

I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

and you see?
don't you see?

don't worry i can't either

i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.

i want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,

i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.
Chantal Jul 2018
This is the sign you’ve been looking for.
So live darling. Live reckless and brazen. Don’t you dare hide how you feel & never try to meet the set standards.  Don’t think, just do. Forget how it’s ‘supposed’ to go, and all that could go wrong. Disregard all the illogical cause and effects Society determines. Ignore the 99% likely outcome and go after that 1% with everything you’ve got, kid. ‘Cause if something or someone makes you happy or gives you a sorta feeling you can’t explain, even if it’s just for a little while- ignore all the ‘advice’ & the whole doing the ‘right’ thing, and hold on to it till your lungs give out, regardless of what form you get it in. Here’s the truth darling; life’s too short for norms and logic. Too short to hide your feelings and god knows, way too short to spend even a second unhappy & restrained due to fear and the abstract ideas that things are meant to go a certain way. So if you love someone, scream it at the top of your lungs, and if you feel like crying, collapse and shatter. Live impulsively because there’s nothing purer than the desires of the heart.
-c.j.m
L B Jul 2018
An early evening gust
broke the back of the day's blaze
Still 90 degrees at eight
in orange haze
Sweat runs down my neck
Through the gorge between my *******
The wind lifts my linen shirt
runs its hands along my sides
reviving memory
of Forest Park
of a blanket in the grass

Where the pines trace
so many faces
Crackling popping kids
stolen matches, running
screaming victorious!
Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers
Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk
That whole afternoon
I spent hammering caps

Noise really makes us kids
really
especially
annoying

Mom wants us out!
Gone! All of us!
No needs. No excuses!
No cookies! No slices of bologna!
“No more Kool Aid!
Out now!
Out!”

That evening I tried
to dismiss the itchy sweat
of ******-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits
at Gino's family picnic
When some kid
(I don't know?)
between the rigatoni and the sweet corn
Some kid
tosses a sparkler
into box of fireworks
I don't know?
whether to cry or laugh
I was pretty scared
Rockets going off across the lawn
and onto porch
Craze of colors through the trees
Some at eye-level horror!
But the sight of Aunt Nedda
diving under picnic table
Stockings, garter belt upended
Capsized beyond her caring
of uplifted dress

Some images just stay with you, ya know?

July 4th always lands for me
on a firework's ***
"Caps"  are little red rolls of gunpowder dots, originally made to give a snap to toy guns of the 1950s.  We figured out that by layering them and using a hammer, you could get a bigger *****.
Don Oct 2018
There's a shakey jurry rigged
Kilter-tilt plank-based Fortress
Sitting helter-skelter in my
East Texas backyard backwoods.
What I'm trying to say
Is I'm a tetnis based
Aching - fortress of a man.
Mister-splinter, army of one!
I may be a college-aged,
Weak-brained man-thing
But I'll be ******
To Davey's place
If my eye-patch, flintlock, n' pirate cap
Got chest-locked in a watery grave.
-
Suspended in Time
Within my favorite East Texas Pines
Is my favorite place.
I do it all with my imaginary Pirate Cap On
Fight me. Life.
Slime-God Nov 2018
I let another day slip by
do I really have a reason?
was it Too tough to try?
...
I haven’t had a good dream in years
but I’m well-passed mourning
and I’m Too tough for tears.
...
But yet I’m still here
I’m still here and breathing.
Don’t need dreams
and I don’t need meaning.
Don’t need anything,
despite this feeling
of change;

I do want meaning
and I do want purpose
but it doesn’t change the fact-
that I’m so ******* nervous,
for the future, I’m fearful
the past, I’m forgetful
presently I’m panicking
the situation’s stressful

I'm not asking to be successful...

I just want to be happy.
J L S Dec 2018
let it go kid,
angels don’t fall for us–
the imperfect are just so,
our pasts stalk us
and a day down the road
we give up on
looking in the clouds for angels
and accept the journey alone.

how many days until i give up,
i pray every night to wake up clean–
a godsend has made me wish to live in dreams
and now i pry my eyes awake
because sleeping is seeing what will never be,
sleeping is seeing her loving me.

so i sit on this bench only to
stare at city lights and drown in my blood music,
“hang me, oh hang me”, they sing it out.
how many days until i give it up,
why is my heart hellbent on aching?

it’s getting cold now, the wind is numb
and im coughing again.
for now, i’ll bid a goodnight to the skyline
and farewell
to an angel who’s bound to leave one day,
to an angel who’ll never find love in me
that way.

let it go kid,
they don’t fall for us–
but keep her in your dreams if you must.
Perry Dec 2018
My little home shakes, not because it is mobile, but from the screams in the other room.

The front door, stained white and brown, is unbeautiful. Maybe it was before I got here.

Or maybe it will be, when I'm gone.
ThePoet Nov 2015
There are no limits within a dream
Insanity at its most extreme
Imagination aged the child
It made me strong, it made me wild

I have ocean secrets growing deep
They're mine to ponder, mine to keep
Creativity taught and raised the kid
It gave me hopes in the places I hid

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
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