I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.
The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...
Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...
Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013
(please read "Her Masterpiece Is Her Story" before reading the second part. It'll make more sense and probably be more enjoyable!)
The girl who has beautiful scars,
And the boy with marks of strength,
Are now separated by distance,
And that is causing some teenage angst.
The girl wonders how the boy is doing.
Her paintbrush calls her name.
The two can't talk right now,
And she feels she's to blame.
The girl's best friend is lonely,
And she isn't much better.
The only way honesty is revealed,
is through a heart felt letter.
Her scars are fading away,
Everyone knows her secret, so she can't add to the art.
She's wishing she could draw more cuts,
At night the voices in her mind take over her heart.
Her masterpiece is disappearing,
Her artwork is going away.
"What caused you to do this!??!" her family asks.
"I...I hate myself." is all she can say.
She's trying to be okay,
If not for herself then for her friends,
If there's one thing she can't take,
It's their fatal ends.
But she doesn't know how the boy is,
She doesn't know his feeling,
Her mind is going crazy,
Her sanity is reeling.
Since she doesn't know how the boy is doing,
Her anxious mind is filled with worry,
Her demons have told her something.
They're telling her the worst horror story.
Her masterpiece is fading,
I've told you this before.
Her scars are going away,
She wants to make more.
But she doesn't make any.
For the sake of those she loves.
She restrains from her paintbrush.
Even though it fits like a glove.
Her story is continuing,
Her painting isn't dry.
But her canvas is even more,
down upon her thigh.
Maybe she'll erase some drawings.
She's trying to be okay.
She actually doesn't want to get better.
But what am I supposed to say?
Be honest and say she doesn't want that?
Be truthful and say she doesn't care?
Because in her life right now,
Having no motivation? She wouldn't dare!
She misses the life she had before.
She didn't mind hiding her own part of her life.
She would just cope her own way.
She'd cope by using a knife.
Maybe one day she'll draw on an actual paper,
Or paint with an actual paintbrush,
But right now with her anxiety,
She feels that there is no rush.
Don't worry about the girl.
She just cries every night.
But she has to keep going,
Her best friend is in near sight.
It'll be alright everyone,
I'll keep you up to date,
The girl's painting will continue.
If that's the artist's fate.
Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
Copyright © Angel C | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
Anger, pain and dramatic stress
The 3 things that I possess
Me, Reggie is okay at times
I sometimes choose to confide in my rhymes
I express my feelings through a pen
Just like some women get satisfaction through men.
This isn’t a poem because this is a thought
I have thoughts moving so fast, just too fast to be caught.
I hate being stressed
Just like I hate being possessed
I don’t mean to sound evil and mean
But I am different from the other people you have seen.
This is not a poem…this is a thought
I have thoughts moving so fast that they can’t be caught.
I have it good to some…others have it good to me
Some don’t realize how hard it is to be
A poet…it’s hard writin’ poetry with a lot of feeling
You feel forced to write something appealing
You break down cause cus’ you feel an obligation
To write good poetry that there breaks your concentration
I found a solution that my mind’s fighting
Maybe I should stop all the poetry and all the writing
These are fast ideas too fast to be caught
This isn’t a poem this is just a thought
Copyright © Reginald Sellers | Year Posted 2005
The grey oppresses;
surrounded by fog,
I traverse this shadowland;
Dorothy in reverse,
stuck in this land of monochrome
Xerox grayscale in 2-D.
Hoping it is but a dream,
valiantly, I stroke in Technicolor
Only to see it erased, again
It is no more real than the specters
haunting my thoughts.
Still I stumble around searching;
hues of hope hover out of reach
as these low-lying clouds
cast a pall-- blinding me to joy.
Perhaps, I'm trapped
in Tim Burton's sketch board;
these monoliths of grotesque
caricature evidence such.
At every turn there is a new one,
popping out of the mists.
Large, unmoving blocks of black granite
ring me like Stonehenge-- surrounded--
Leaving me wandering this maze of dark surrealism.
Glimpses of color reveal themselves
in the distance through the shroud,
ephemera teasing my senses.
Blow! benign zephyrs;
sweep away the haze
invading my peace.
Rescue me the confines
of my self-induced prison.
Let me walk in daylight, once again.
Copyright © Jaycee Cervenka | Year Posted 2015
Seemingly standing alone,
In the shadows of doubt and fear,
Lost, cold, forgotten,
Cold is the grasp of death that nears
Seeking a hand in darkness of solitude,
Wishing for nothing but a love,
Turned away, cast aside, borne not even a stray, lone thought,
Towering aloft, looked down upon from far above
Throned so high overhead, just as kings of old,
Glared down upon, a lowly tear forsaken so,
Caught within a trap, drowning, mists of sorrow,
A voice unheard, a voice deserted, only a voice in woe
Wandering such great, forlorn paths,
A derelict mind harshly beat, a mind that has since long been vacant,
Rove, this neglected child does,
One mind among so many, outcast, this dolor mind abeyant.
Copyright © Joshua Brown | Year Posted 2013
Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega
Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega
Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega
Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013
Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!
Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Oh what a mistake I have made,
Traveled so far to end up this way.
Not in a million years would I have guessed,
That this idea was truly not one of my best.
Never had known things had changed so much,
We for sure had fallen so far out of touch.
So many different do's , don't , and bewares,
Actually has left me absolutely scared.
What a fool I was to ever believe,
That she would ever be in love with me.
At my age you would think I know better,
You can trust this will be remembered forever.
Oh what a terrible mistake I have made,
Wanting all these memories to just fade away.
Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER | Year Posted 2013
This poem I wrote. I call it " Let Him Go "
Sweetheart don't cry
Don't let him make you feel like your nothing
You do have family even though we are not close by
I know your heart is crushing
Don't harp on the past
Don't let him play with your head
You need to get over him fast
His feelings for you are dead
Over 2 years and you still don't have a ring
Your not the one he calls his wifey to be no more
Take a seat and listen up girl here is the thing
He's playing with your feelings and using you like a two dollar whore
I know you were smart once and can be again
He has you so brain washed it's not funny
I know hearing all this is a strain
Think of the example your setting for you little ones honey
Hold your head high and walk away from that loser mama's boy
Show him that your the one that is too good for his sorry ass
Hell he's such a mama's boy you can find better pleasure in a toy
Your related to me so come on show your sass
Let go of the past and look to a new future
Let go of the pain and the control freak
Say bye bye Looser
It will get easier one step at a time week by week......
Copyright © mandy cabral | Year Posted 2013
Could I not see such ugly drawn out choices.
Hollow I feel such nothing for people it is fear that feeds me.
Alone in this forsaken world with nothing to accept.
Order is such pain that it is nothing but chains.
Souls that bare nothing but lost cause to confusion is such utter mistakes.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Breaking down in the heart and mind.
With all regrets that are truly not kind.
Shocked at people are, so painful to see.
Abused with hated and ecstasy.
Violated and directed with torments
Lost of words or comments.
Hatred gushing out of life long experience.
Reminding yourself to become absence.
Coward and scared to even breathe.
Like the feeling of knives unsheathe.
Sharp but not enough to cut.
Enough to scare like a door that immediately shut.
The hand raised to help you is a lie.
It is a hand that slaps you so you can die.
Rough around the edges.
Crawling in your dreams in ledges.
Powered to stay alive.
You feel people want you to take a dive.
Just stop, and fall down.
Hoping to break your mental crown.
Hiding a feeling that never feels real.
Like shaking hands with demons for a deal.
Blocked out, out of your own story.
Thinking that people are stealing your glory.
Ashamed with fear.
With eyes that are full of tear.
Lost in such hidden romance.
Luck has it seems to be a dance.
Moving around in your head.
With scary thoughts and dread.
Feels like you never leave.
So you feel so many that grieve.
In your mind that is lost.
Full of drama that holds you down in cost.
Keeping in the shadow.
You watch people so shallow.
Gut instinct says that life with them is a muse.
When your just standing your accuse.
Society is just so lame.
Like all the people that are in it your to blame.
Soloing life is a brief.
Walking away is some what a relief.
I dreamed of many things.
With beautiful sorrows of wings.
Wavered in a direction that leads no where.
Escaping everything by a hair.
Pointing into the sky.
And asking yourself why.
The cage is so big.
Just enough to put on a huge rig.
Moving back and fourth.
It feels that your life does not have a worth.
Caned by laws of laughter to deceive.
Shackled up to be bent to your will to receive.
When you hope to hope.
A person can just show you the rope.
They have such friendly hands.
Like the deserts of sands.
Dangerous it is to just keep walking in it.
Lost cannot find your way even a little bit.
Just seem like your heart feels dry.
Then you give up and give a sigh.
That moment that you do is just all a dream.
You are really in a ward you will scream.
Thrust upon you because you could not protect.
So what cost you is this effect.
Warping in to your mind to leave this place.
You feel full of disgrace.
With nothing to drink.
Causing your true self to think.
Grief is such a pain with sorrow to gain.
Looking out in your own rain.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.
When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say,
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”
And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.
Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.
He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.
And, of course, sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.
So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”
“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”
“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc! What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.
But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.
“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.
A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw
Reminded him of his sacrifice.
He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.
As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.
As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello. I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”
“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift. I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.”
Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes."
Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.
“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!” Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?
Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”
Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”
Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss? I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.
“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos will cramp your balls,
You’ll get migraine headaches.”
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
It's silly isn't it?
That I could fall for you so easily
And you not give two shits?
You spoke your drunken words
And admitted to always loving me
It was the best thing I had ever heard.
When we hung out soon after
And I left you with a kiss
I didn't think the feelings mattered.
But as we spent time apart
I realized it wasn't the same
You had won my heart.
I got drunk and spilled my words
And you said you still felt the same
I was happier than a bird.
We made plan after plan
You always fell through
I felt like a speck of sand.
You told me you were trying to get a girl
I smiled and bared the tears
I had hoped to be the girl.
You soon stopped replying
I started to break down
I was almost done trying.
But no not tonight
I got drunk and spilt more words
I hope I did what's right.
I thought we were the perfect fit
I fell for you so hard
But, that's silly, isn't it?
Copyright © Kimber Robinson | Year Posted 2013
Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change
People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.
People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names
The list could go on
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou,
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew
George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise
Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle,
But obviously greatness can be done.
We can rise above this stigma
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2011
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.
If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.
She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.
She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.
Everyone thought she was happy,
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?
She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.
Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.
They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.
They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.
Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.
She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred.
She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.
She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.
Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
everyone had forgotten she needed help.
Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.
Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
I walked amidst the shadows, that curtained life,
I looked for the sun to relieve my pain
if you had been with me it would have released the hurt,
But you were absent when my need was great.
It does not matter, now, I know that now,
I am comforted by your presence, beside me,
l live each day for each day,
And you, my love.
The time is near when my absence may hurt you,
But dwell not on that, but on what we have been,
And if in future times you need a love,
I will smile on your need and bless you.
Copyright © Damian Cranney | Year Posted 2015
They are bound to the Earth like trees
Suffocating under the weight of an icy grave
Reaching to be free, but only their limbs are seen
Hoping that one day someone will see:
They can't escape with lacerated wings
The ocean surrounds me, covering everything
Nothing will be clearly seen; confusion overwhelming
No-one can save you, you're on your own, left to die
Manipulating every bleeding heart you can find
I can't escape with lacerated wings.
Swarms of nets, waves of screams
Entangle: your captive illusions and dreams
The mask has be seared - The truth now they see
The Liar - Vampiric Fiend; lowly thief
And now they know you can't escape with Lacerated Wings
There's reasons for your rejections:
Your Heavy heart's transferred oppression
The scars are too deep to pass the trials
But you can find peace in your cage of empty spirals
You Cannot Escape With Lacerated Wings
Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2013
This is a day that I could have really done without,
Saying you love me and do this to me hurts no doubt.
Day after day I pray that you will please stop,
What pain you've caused me has taken all I've got .
I love you and adore you but it seems not to matter,
Still you continue to hurt me leaving my heart shattered.
You come to me with words I have only dreamed ,
But what they were meant for was to hurt me it seems .
Never have I seen a woman with so much hate ,
Taking revenge on me by disrespecting me till it hurts.
True I have waivered with my troubles with trust,
The one thing thats important and this is a must.
There are no more words or sayings that will ever work,
I have tried everything I know giving it all that its worth .
To the day I die I will never understand why ,
The woman I love does everything to make me cry .
So this my dream to be forever with you ,
Is only nightmares for me and dying is all I can do.
This a day I surely could do without.
Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER | Year Posted 2013
A nightmare that always lurks in my mind
A jumble of thoughts I cannot fathom
Making me distorted, confused, and blind
My monsters are chanting their own anthem
Over again I can no longer bare
They drag me down to terrifying depths
But it leaves me grasping at the air
Choking me, taking away all my breaths
I'm screaming but there is no one around
I'm scared of failure, just simply nervous
They say they can fix me, but I can't be found
I'm starting to think trying is worthless
And as I awoke from my horrid dream
I realize no one is who they seem.
Copyright © Jacqueline M. | Year Posted 2014
She has so much pain inside of her,
she doesn't know how to address it.
So she turns the pain into anger,
after she explodes, she becomes quiet.
She goes up to her room, upset.
Why does the world hate her so?
She thinks to herself, “That’s it!”
But in reality, it isn't though.
She lies on her bed,
Pulls out her book and reads.
As she turns the pages, she loses her head,
In her mind, she thinks “This is what I need.”
A place to escape the world,
Somewhere she can run.
For it seems everyone hates this girl,
And nothing she does is fun.
She plays her cello
And loses herself in the music
She does this when she feels low
Then she plays the song of her pick
She listens to the beat she makes,
Trying to make it sound perfect,
But oh, she keeps making mistakes,
She thinks that she will never get it.
She leaves the cello alone
And watches her shows
She then grabs her phone
And tells her best friend the show as it goes.
She leaves the TV on,
Then she enters her laptop.
She stays on till dawn,
She just can’t seem to stop.
She loves the idea of leaving the real world
And entering an imaginary one.
That’s the story of the girl,
Who is never done.
Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013
Living my life on the Dole*,
Because my Mum told me so,
Interview at ‘McDonalds’, but that Tyrant told me "No!",
See, we're a family with pride,
Don't sell fries at super-size,
But where's the pride,
If I can't provide,
For my own style of life,
Spent my money from the *Brew,
On Irn-Bru**, I swear that’s true,
Dreary, damp & cold, This black hole, I call home,
Only 'joy' I get in life’s the 'stick' I use for X-BOX,
And I aint got a tumble dryer so I step with wet socks,
Work-shy, but money-hungry,
Flats cramp-sized & pretty ugly,
Until I woke up and realised that no-one loves me.
Brain melts to slush, in this non-testing occasion,
‘Gain Work’ is a must, for a teenage Caucasian,
Nothing separating me,
From drug-addled Dads of three,
Just giro day,
No jobs… great,
Keep trying mate,
No end in sight as unemployment rises,
Government gives you cash like they were handing out prizes,
Where’s my reason to go out & work? My motivation,
Its pleasing no-one now, this escalated situation,
Experience is something that you earn, not that you’re born with,
Inexperienced forever, if I don’t get employed quick,
I don't enjoy sitting on my broken couch for hours,
I'm your Friend with Benefits, can only wash with cold showers.
(*Common British phrases for Jobcentre or Jobseekers Allowance Benefit)
(**Famous Scottish soft drink mass produced around Britain)
Copyright © Craig Scott | Year Posted 2013
It's just one o'clock
On Sunday A.M.
And my thought process
Is getting quite slim
Eyelids are heavy,
Red colored, and rimmed.
Its now one-oh-two
On Sunday A.M.
Copyright © Clifford Woodell | Year Posted 2013
Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.
The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.
Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.
The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.
Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
I did it again; I need forgiven.
Will He still forgive me even though I've fallen before?
I've fallen into these same sins countless times before;
I still haven't learned my lesson.
I am an ignorant hypocrite.
Am I still forgiven?
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
I am a 2 gig desktop computer in the 21st century,
A phone model that’s just been phased out,
How can I convince the youngsters that I also had my days?
I am a Tata Nano right in the midst of a formula one race
Dwarfed and outshined
I am that athlete who finishes fourth in a photo finish
Yes just outside the podium positions
A toilet tissue,
Doing the worst job there is out there
I can’t win can i?
I am that politician sitting in opposition for fifty years
I may never attain pole position
Feel for that frail and ageing prince,
For his mother, The Queen keeps going strong
He may never reach promisedland
I am that sad student,
Repeating a paper because of that elusive single mark
You know I’m that hurdler
The one who led a final only to stumble at the last obstacle
I tried basketball
But every shot I tookwas an air ball
I am that mother who can’t identify the father of my child
I am that teenage boy who’s just lost a fight to a little girl
I’m that fellow who forgets an umbrella on a rainy day
Think of that performer acting in an empty arena
The comedian whose jokes are dry
I’m a broken guitar
I’m a cracked mirror
I’m three legged chair
I’m but a leaking roof
Life is not at all fair
Everything seems aloof
I was small league star
But I barely leave a mark in top flight
I was a big fish in a small pond
I’ve become small fish in a big sea
Out of my depth but I will not stop trying
Yes I missed many penalties in my life
Hit the post when my team was down
Had my fair share of own goals
I cut myself when I shave
But that doesn’t stop me
I will hit the reset button
Reboot the system if necessary
I have a master plan
A wonder drug and it will work
Or will it?
Copyright © John Pen | Year Posted 2014