Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Yandisa mhlana Aug 2015
Pain, My existence
love, My fantasy

i dream of days to come
the days i hear about
when it will be better
when it wont hurt so much

I am lost

I am confused

i am crying
on the inside

I am broken

Is this poem doing what its supposed to
Am i reaching out?
Am i wasting your time
Havent written a poem in years, just wrote words that came to me. Want to get back to writing, i was in high school when i stopped. poetry helped with the loneliness
Yandisa mhlana Mar 2013
I sit in my room and try to imagine my future
I cant
Not for lack of imagination or lack of trying
But for the lack of purpose

I see no reason to walk on the path of others
And i see no reason to start my own

My family looks to me for the future
I smile and tell them it is bright

They do not see that i myself am in the dark


But a few words to describe me
Yandisa mhlana Apr 2012
I'm tired...

I die by the minute

Every hour
I cry for relief

This world is built on pain

From the banishment of Eden
To this moment

This world knows no joy

To cry is meaningless
To complain is meaningless

To die...
This is a work in progress. Help and/correction is gladly welcomed
Yandisa mhlana Nov 2011
To Death be the glory
Great things it has done.

To Death be respect
For non can outrun

Oh reaper
Oh killer, slayer of men

Take me swiftly, take me gently
Take me now if you can
Yandisa mhlana Oct 2010
Better to have never loved, than to have loved and been left in the cold alone with a broken heart.

Better to have told me in the start that you weren't going to stay, than to let me build a mansion in which every night i will spend alone.

Better to have never said i love you, if you didn't mean forever.
Yandisa mhlana Sep 2010
What i am to them is an ornament.
My value is determined by the scales they use.

Freedom is a dream that looks far from reality.
Freedom is for the full who's destined for poverty.

A puppet of their play, they control me with strings.
Make me dance the mariet and clap hands and their so called brilliance.

A pawn in their game, they expect me to win.
Feed me steroids of spiritual wisdom and belief, to become the warrior destined to free them from their doom and misery.

The mascot they use to boost their fame.
Expect me to tell the world, they're the reason i am this way.
A well disciplined, obedient good mannered boy.

Parents and teacher.
The wardens of teenagers.
The tormentors of my soul.
Yandisa mhlana Sep 2010
With a leash around my neck i bow to drink.
Commands telling me where to step and how to breath.

They claim to know what i truelly need.

Know whats best. What will make me succeed.

Yet deny me life and the right to live.

They dont trust my words, call me rash and impatiant.
Believe i'm a teenager who knows not right from wrong.

To be free, what should i do?
Runaway from home or commit teenage suicide.

They think they know best.
When really, they dont know who i am at all.
Next page