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 May 2015 YoungSymba
Collily
Ebony
 May 2015 YoungSymba
Collily
The world has not been
kind to her kind.
Tormented by her mind,
peace she can not find.

History bears witness
to her mental stain.
Told that her skin is a disease,
she scrubs away the pain.

Wounded and forever alone
in this desert terrain.
Hope floods her thoughts
like summer rain.

The red of her blood seeps through her scars,
liquid consolation caressing her skin.

She is human,isn't that enough?
My first spoken word piece :)
 May 2015 YoungSymba
Nicole Corea
This experience is like a flower.
It grows
Its beautiful .
But the duration
of this beautiful flower
is limited
Just as in our situation
where it prepares us
for what's next
in our individual futures
 May 2015 YoungSymba
Cat Fiske
My film class,
Is my favorite class

and the class I hate the most,

I love film,
I have a passion for this art,

this medium,

this class is my soul and bodies passion,
and like a job,

like my job,

it fits me,
but like all jobs,

there's things that just ******* ****.

and it's not over the normal things,
like time and money,

its the people you work with,

or in my case,
my class,

and they are all *****,

when someone makes it their point,
to upset you and hurt you everyday,

because finally you are good at something,

when you **** at science,
and allowed your math skills to fall behind,

your life is filled with lies and you find,

a reason to live,
worth all your effort and time

but the same people calling you stupid and dumb and a **** up,

in math and science,
are in this film class,

forced to take a smile,

and sarcastically say,
"good job,"

when your film gets played in class,

and even when you ask,
no one give you advice like you give when asked,

and every frame seen on the projected screen,

gives me anxiety,
and the rude, unhelpful reminders from my bullies,

don't ******* help me,

when I want to run out of my favorite class daily,
and scream  in all their faces,

"*******"

"for once..."
but I don't

I sit,

I bit skin off skinless lips,
hold back tears,

the urge to leave,

take all my insults
that are directed at me,

with a head tilted down fake half smile,

when they should be directed to my film,
but everyday, I do get to say;

*******,

because this year,
I make it to all my classes,

even the next one,

history.
period 11/12

with my dignity
My sadness and upsetness by these people, but how oh how it prepares me for the real world. I Am better than I was, and will only get better, and that's all you can hope for.
Words mean a lot, though miss used a lot
And so I thought why not, type-out my thoughts
At the age of twenty, I fought a lot and I lost
Submitted to reality, thanks to life for this munity
I quarrel with this world to find my golden state, but
Even in the golden age, this imperfect being still remains
Yes I grow with age, learn from my mistakes
Expelling all the weeds, growing and suffocating this angelic
Creation
So when I wake-up,
stare at mirror, moisture my skin with perfumed lotion
With the attempt to adorn this temple...
Close to Goodness yet far from purity
at times I may be white, till my robe is  painted with mud
I'm only human, and yes I fall, but get back up
This life is rough, behind the smiles and all the love
Remain deep scars, this life is tough, but I still laugh
Endure the harsh times, and all the storms
If I be iron this structure would be corroded
Filled with rust, burying, who I really am All my imperfections, lust lack of trust, sometimes lack of love, and all the scars can taint my soul

Flawless Imperfectionist
Perfection is close to us, yet far from our reach. But chasing after it, makes us seem perfect, when no one is.
I'm not good in arts
Never hit the bull-eye
In a game of darts
But mine eyes can be arty
Especially when dissapointed, by the one I'm hearting
If my thoughts were painting(s), vivid they would be
Above everything...

The mirror never lies and I've tested this
And everything on it I can see my bliss
See the reflection of my tears, the point is
My mirror never lies

Beauty is in the eye(s) of the beholder, but as you grow older
You will know that there's no order in this
A diamond is a diamond to me, but just a stone to you
Yes its true

Mine eyes are arty
I know this is confusing but, the celestial environment I dwell in
Just took over these thoughts and blew me away
So now I say, try and surf my wave
I'm far away from the normal state
I'm calm, I'm rough, I'm tumbling
Call me a high tide, I'm reaching for the zenith
Cause in it, I find myself
Growing floral thoughts

This mirror is creative, or is it my eyes
Cause I see myself wading
And everybody, waving
As if I'm leaving
All along I've been creating a lake with mine eyes
These none **** brown eyes
Have created a lake of tears
Tears of joy

Man my eyes are arty
Abstract thought of the eyes being arty, and cretive. And the mirror is the reflector of the occurance. Tears of joy can lead to Celestial thoughts.
I died when I thought of a future
I died when I welcomed hope
Hope killed the faith I had
Hope that the sun will never stop shining...
But instead I keep on shuning shadows leaning against my face.
I guess things were meant to be...hard though

I died the day I thought democracy was my token to success.
Democracy is a price paid for my brother,sister, mother and fathers blood.


We speak of the Styx river and forget about the Blood River.
I was told education is the key
This mysterious key comes at a price
This mysterious key is not really a key...
Instead of buying a key I have the blue print of making a key is what I have received!
I died while trying to build my future
My future killed me when I accepted it as my future.
Morbid isn't it!

Just an ordinary Zulu boy taken for a ride and now I have to live with it.
The torture of being in this cell presses on my mental  peace.
If you think this Is enough to put I on a comma.
I have worse news, because I ended up in a full-stop.

I'm starting to try and relate to I these lyrics "we found love in a hopeless place..."!
this high palace has fallen "remember those walls I built, baby they are tumbling down,they didn't even put up a fight, they didn't even make a sound..."!

We say he/she is music to my ears but forget to define the type of music you compare her to
Music can sadden one
Bring joy
Bring peace
And it can also mislead you to believing that you are not human...

I died the day I last saw the precious sun shine before my very eyes.
The night is still young we say...
Shooting stars have become rare and all I see is darkness!
Shooting star appear before me and grant me the wish I have to make: I wish that this darkness wou
d disappear,
I wish the night was older because it would mean the next sun shine is near.

Life would be restored
And this darkness Gone
My sorrows and bemoaned
Solitude destroyed
Love restored
Tears evaporated...
Happiness exonerated
Live in the Now, live the future, when the future arrives.
she was sophisticated.
classy.
billows of smoke surrounded her,
like the admiring eyes filling the cafe.
every movement more graceful than the last.
she orders another cup and smirks.
though it seemed like she had it all together,
she was just as undone as the rest of us.

— The End —