Poem | |
You Are Not Invited
--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--
Silently she swarms in like a leech,
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out
Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves,
I strike, like a pyromaniac --A burning match
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe
A waste in the breeze her insecurities
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,
YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes
More great poems below...
Poem | |
"In Touch With Myself"
I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire,
reaching and tracing every line left behind.
I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.
Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?
Poem | |
I found the fountain of youth
When I stumbled across the forbidden garden
Right smack in the middle,
Was what I thought to be a wishing well
I tossed in a quarter!
Looking down with a puzzled face
I peeked to see where it fell
I leaned over and that's when I saw my vanity
It was always there waiting for me
The reflection in the water was my face
In wonder I asked what this vision could be?
With one drop on my taste buds
I knew I found the one true key
The most beautiful thing that can set one free
I reached in to touch the poetry inside me
re-post- first poem on the soup
Poem | |
I’m Not Your Puppet
Don’t you ever forget
That I’m not your puppet!
I’m not a toy on a string that you can manipulate,
So you can walk right back through that gate.
You thought you could simply bark out commands,
And I would just yield to your demands.
But I’m so over you and I hope you can see
That I’ve broken those chains and I’m now free.
Mr. Manipulator, don’t try to mess with my mind,
‘Cause it has a will of its own as I’m sure you’ll soon find.
Don’t even try to figure me out,
I’m my own person, that’s what this is all about!
You took my love for granted,
And got everything you ever wanted.
Well, marionette maker, let me tell you what's true,
No more dancing to your tune as I've had enough of you!
Trust me I’m not even bitter,
But it’s all over and you can go cry me a river.
You really did me wrong thinking you could string me along;
But nothing lasts forever and I've grown super strong.
I’m not your puppet, and as I’ve told you before,
My name is not Pinocchio, so see yourself to the door.
You'd better understand that I'm my own woman,
And I will not be controlled by any man!
Inspired by the R&B song, “I’m Your Puppet,” released in December 1966 by James and Bobby Purify, singing duo.
Poem | |
Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.
Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.
This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.
This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.
This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.
This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.
This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.
More great poems below...
Poem | |
-THIS IS NOT A POEM-
Hey, Poets stop by, give me a shout out.
Tell Me Where You Are From;)
I promise I won't show up on your doorstep.
If you are having a bad day, let me have it
If you have awesome news, don't be greedy
By all means --- SHARE THE NEWS!!!
................. LOVE THE POET DESTROYER
Poem | |
You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company?
You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?
You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?
You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?
You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?
You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?
You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?
You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?
You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?
That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.
**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)
*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY
Poem | |
Waking up to the depth beyond such things every day
One day I choose to walk and become Queen of Mandalay
In the depth of my ocean mind
I Find my soul diving and trying to unwind
Peer pressure can not handle all the empty space
Avoiding the world's relativistic mass by the human race
Overusing the power giving to me
Sleeping at times disappointed by humanity
I walk in darkness to help you reach the light
I twist the darkness to give you a better sight
Walking at the edge of all things with the ability to precept
Using logic to compare and intercept the emotions we can not accept
With the emotional picture of a fast heart beat
Wiping out the brain waves with a mood in heat
Giving enough flow to the power of intuition
Exceeding the knowledge without the book of Revelation
Receiving the pointless pain in persons chest
A wreck who ignores the emotions to digest
A mood string of self-manipulation eating away at the mass of reality
Some viewers are so unperceptive, a low self-esteem of stupidity
A curse a gift with ability to know everything, illusions of feeling it
with an emphasis so useless you can not admit
Trusting one day came with a price, alerting my ego on strong
Using my energy to direct the purpose of the wrong
Walking like a tool throughout the world's philosophy
A weapon of thought not meant for the mindless or monstrosity
The hidden riddles of life are the ones before your eyes
Grasping the concept with the attention of ending lies in our lives
Proceeding the ethics of the center of one's endless layer
accepting the birth of all responsibility, over the edge of a mind player
I gave the thought with a natural twist of a moving spear
Expanding the horizon of the hemisphere
Edge walkers down and broken standing without
Walking straight forward with the same God and Devil in doubt
Simply looking through "rose colored glasses."
Chaos from the ugliness of avoiding the large body masses
Balancing out the change to allow the flow
follow logical emotions, that destroys a mind blow.
causing the opposite to any action
effect the law of any equal reaction
expect to accept the unexpected, a dull way of life
connect the keeper of the masters weapon knife
with religion comes the weakness of not standing tall
with the strong perception of life even one can fall
Standing without the generations of a crawler
living as a shadow he or she who believes the edge walker
by: P.D. June/6/10
Poem | |
Be not the passioned faith that fails to stay
When driven back and beaten to the ground,
Then compensated with a weed bouquet
Or self lamenting gift of thorny crown.
Be not the selfish soul that slips and falls
While treading down the mossy path you've laid,
Avoiding faithful friends when last they called
And fearful of the truth you now evade.
Arise and brush self pity from your brow.
You are the child of all that God hath sown,
And all the gifts with which you are endowed,
Bequeathed from each and all that you have known.
So stay, yet humbled, in this wind so strong,
Respectful of the fact you could be wrong.
Shakespearean Sonnet--Iambic Pentameter
By Craig Cornish
Poem | |
My box of sadness too.
A box full of sadness I store under my bed.
With thoughts so sad
Making me wish I was dead.
With one look underneath my bed.
Memories of you jump inside my head.
Like a Jack in the box, who is trapped inside.
I stuffed my feelings in this box.
I will not surrender to any sadden thoughts.
Shutting the box full of spider webs.
I do not want to feel the deepness of sad, I hide.
This sadness I store back under my bed.
My feelings are better trapped inside.
Staring at the box with my eyes open wide.
Tears start to fall the ones I buried inside
Following footsteps with no guide.
Why did I bother to remove the lid.
Sadness always makes it hard to decide
The pain my heart does not want to see.
Hiding the sadness, I yet have not cried.
I will not release my sadness, and set it free.
I have managed to put the sadness out side of me.
This sadness only belongs to me.
How could you leave with out telling me bye.
I pretend to live my life so cheerfully.
It takes a real person to bring me down.
My sadness trapped behind a fake bully.
Like a smile from a clown .
I put on a show and block any sad thought.
Not allowing my self to drown in self pitting ways.
You left me alone after bringing me into this world.
The one and only person who could be there for me.
In my troubles and need she left me.
Every one saying it might have been suicide.
How could you leave us behind with misery and blame.
The sadness of your shame is what I hide
A box of my sadness under my bed.
By:P.D.----I guess that is one of my sadness. A true one at that.
To:The Rambling Poet- This is a challenge called by you.
Trapped inside with a sadness. The other part of me
Poem | |
I, it is only I, in a world so beautiful I could touch the sky.
With angelic wings wide eyed style I fly, oh so high, I fly.
Volunteering time and memories, I dance on welcomed air,
Going where the wheels of love take me, there, I am there.
I, a vessel for the happiness to pour, give my smiles, so much more.
Time may drip the sands of life away, but heaven is an endless shore.
Dancing with bare feet, washing away tears with healing hand,
Proud of my paradise, my smile, I give away, I hold the grains of sand.
I, the helper of men, a princess, will grace every waking hour,
Harvesting with my hands a sweet gem of a precious flower.
Budding in the garden, blooming, attracting eyes that shine,
I am the grower and producer of a beauty that is all mine.
I, I will give, and I will leave a legacy of love behind.
Take a good long look at me, a healer and helper you will find.
For Contest: I, Icon
Date: april 06, 2015
Poem | |
I look at you
I can't stand you
I hate you
I can't believe you
I can't believe it!
How I allowed
You in my life
Almost your wife
Deep with this knife
Eat it and weep
As you read
About my new love
Distance is just a mass
I close my eyes
To kiss him
I close my eyes
And you disappear
Oh! My God.
My eyes are open
Take me so far away
Into another place
I don't need this disgrace
I don't want to be crazy
Or labeled insane
Like a crazy train
Explain the new love I found
I love the sound
To be in your arms
Not in his shadow
I plead to you
I bleed for you
I try to run into you
But the more I stay
I can't turn away
My life's is set on,
You are my everything
He is my nothing
With you my heart sings
With him it suffers
You are my tune
He is my off note
You bring light to my moon
He brings me darkness with doom
Blow me up
To spill my cup
A self destructive life
A dagger- a knife
Just kill what is left
Deep inside my chest
Then I found you
You took me
You shook me
You removed this isolation
Gave me your sensation
Rescuing me from the seas
I am drowning
Come save me
My days are done clouding
He has ruined
What is not visible
You have loosened
My heart to invincible
For all to see
Heal the pain
Wash the stain
Cover me under the rain
Give meaning to my sanity
Search for me
Give me your love
With no date, over due
My heart now belongs to you
Excuse the effect if you find me disruptive"....
It all comes with being self destructive
Poem | |
Bust to the extreme
And collide with your foes
Be ruthless and heartless
When smash on them hoes
Leave no stone unturned
When your searching for a "snatch"
Always be ready
To smash that ass
Cause they sneaky as ****
Waiting patiently for you to slip
Or get down on your luck
Then you looked surprised
When your ass gets stuck
Like how could this happen
How could this be
They said they would have my back
Always and tomorrow
Are two in the same
Cause when you wake up tomorrow
And always is cool
Till it comes time for change
And that's all I'm gonna say
You seek fortune
And you seek fame
Then your a prime target
For them bogus lames
And trifling dames
That try to get at you in the beginning
So they can snatch your change
When you do make a name
Its all the same
Every mother****ing day
But u *****es ain't slick
Cause you all look fake
Like a ***** with teary eyes
You know she got raped
And took against her will
Just cause some ***** ass punk
Needed a thrill
Well meet your maker
I got a deal
Cause sent down in my presence
And your soul will get drilled
Chilled and chopped up
And diced up into a meal
For the dogs to eat
Now am I keeping it real
Or just real ill
My fates already been sealed
You silly bastard
I'm on the chopping block
And all you hear is my laughter
Before and after
Poem | |
in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heartworms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the briar,
till the jewels of memories sooth
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
Poem | |
She asked for a pic
I went through the rules
No this and that
Bust and above
My best features
No hips and no arms
those aren't my charms
I went through the drill
My students knew it well
She came and whispered in my ear,
"Teacher, I love your figure
You're SO sexy."
I burst out laughing
Was this a joke?
No, she was dead serious
She loved how I moved
She loved how I danced
They'd love a woman like you
Your fullness is proportionate and sexy."
It seems a silly thing
But I did pose for the pic
I flicked back my hair
Had a smile on my face...
No, I'm not who I was...
But I'll get there somehow
I have to enjoy the here and now
A simple compliment
I'd heard like it before
from both genders...
Hard to accept
When you feel bad about yourself
But I never tire of hearing it
Beautiful and sexy...
It's all in the attitude
In the way that you move
in your smile and your eyes
Even with thunder thighs
A move and a shake
Will keep them awake
I'm going to gain back my former glory
and watch out world....
That compliment is about to turn REAL!
Poem | |
In this field of plantation;
Where I walk and plant various
parts of myself around this
I sometimes look back and notice
I recognize the lettuce of charity
I’ve grown constantly through the
the tomatoes of kindness which
resonates red to the world,
For as the blood flows within my
Kindness will always be found
Also my celery of respect remains
And continues growing as much as I
And yet for all these positive elements
I’ve learned to express to my
Occasionally I plant a bad seed which
poison’s the essence of my entire
And for that, I apologize.
Although a perfectionist in small doses I
am not perfect,
And as a result my garden of Eden
contains more infamous fruit then I
Stemming from lack of growth in my
While a few of any negative offspring
None have been more consistent in growth
than my deception seed.
Unfortunately as I’ve grown into
So has my subconscious lying,
Sadly after a while you don’t even
realize that it still sleeps in your
And as a human constantly harvesting
you learn to accept it;
However evolution never grows
And even a perfect saint contains a
lifetime of imperfect downfalls,
So while I’m familiar with deception,
It is those virtuous seeds that grow
That are parallel with my height
and with that, I’m content.
God never asked for our field to be
But to show progression,
So that it could display many of lives
And as my life continues adding up,
I can promise the world that my
dark seeds subtract simultaneously;
But yet I understand we’re all human,
And we must reap what we
Therefore I’m hoping that my seeds of
empowerment in the form of black eyed
peas, fall into my neighbors field,
Thereby enriching their lives for yet another
Poem | |
Sometimes I am happy, sometimes I am sad.
Sometime I sing, sometimes I stammer
Sometimes I dance on the music of my soul, Sometimes I dance on the fingers of
one single person
Sometimes I expect so much from others; sometime I myself can’t meet my own
Sometime I make fun of others and feel bad later, sometimes life makes fun of me
and I smile
Sometime I win and sometimes I lose, sometimes I don’t even understand whether I
won or lost.
Sometimes I laugh as if whole world is with me,
Sometimes I cry as if I am alone wandering in a strange land
Sometimes I give up so easily
Sometimes I work so hard that no one can stop me to achieve what I want
Sometimes I am dynamic person, who wants to change the world,
And sometimes I am a kid who expects anyone to embrace him tightly.
Sometimes I feel happy about the achievement of my enemy
Sometime I feel dejected with my own success.
Sometimes I help others and show them the right path
Sometimes I feel totally helpless and don’t know where to go
Sometimes I ask god to please give my past back
Sometimes I pray to show me the way forward
Life is composed of SOMETIMES and I just flow with that.
U admit or not but you are also sailing on the same boat.
So join me and enjoy it EVERYTIME as SOMETIMES life is very short!
Poem | |
(A sad point of view)
I can't believe he has to be a poet
To tell you how he feels
Maybe he does not know it
Words written on paper don't really heal
Do not tell her you are sorry
When your apology is not real
To be or not to be?
That is the question you should really ask.
The man should never call himself a poet
Unless he has lived, learn, lost, and gained it all back
The man who writes good poetry
In my eyes is a man of art
He can paint you anything without a paintbrush
This is the man I call no poet, with a colorful heart
Using all his manly skills
He is way ahead of the ordinary man
Leaving the imagination, filling the soul with chills
He is like the woman who leaves you all aroused
(A sad point of view.)
While the woman swims in her own drown.
She finds herself helpless to suffering worlds.
Without a man she thinks she is lost, nowhere to be found.
The secret of the female is
When she is heart broken
She thinks life is over
Little at the time she knows
Once a woman feels
She gets right back up to be a lady
When the time calls
The lady is stronger than ever
One thing I learned about a lady
You better respect her
Don't destroy her better days
She will crumble you up for sure
If the lady says she is a poet
Than a poet in her
I will never insult a lady
She will crush you where it hurts
A real lady knows how to control her man
A lady knows how to keep her emotional words real
But the woman needs to grow
Stop trying to be something she's not
In time she will know
To give it her best shot
I will praise myself and say
"Woman always come and go."
A poet, she can act and play
With fake words that have no flow
This is my demo to all poetry freaks
Keep it real!!
Poem | |
In deep thought
About things of
I wonder aloud
Solutions not clear
Which is always
Tied to many
I stop now—
And look heavenward
Choices are difficult
I’m staying focused.
Use my intuition
Request divine help
Take your pick
My soul’s focus
First and foremost
God speaks silently
Do it now!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
(January 27, 2015) (Accentual Meter)
Poem | |
LIFE'S UNDISCOVERED PASSION
I reached up far to touch a star.
It only took a second.
I thought I heard a salient call
alas it did not beckon.
While looking for an artful craft
and finding none; the time blew past
I looked toward the heaven's stars
for talents that could break these bars
Like thickened paint on canvass fashion
Mixed with rich excitant passion
From Starry Night to sheer delight
but never wrong and never right.
Should I envy those with deep affection
with skills that move in-synced direction
for passions born into their soul
to define their purpose-- take control.
Athletic prowess, artistic flavor,
a builders trade, a science major,
musicians joy and mountaineer
for all of those we stop and cheer
and think if we could only be
but they are they and we are we.
Somewhere, somewhere deep inside
are struggles there we cannot hide
doubts and fears that suck the joy
from life's sweet gifts; a noxious ploy
of destiny failing in an attempt
to re-discover a lost lament.
Sometimes, I find myself lamenting
that I do not possess an
exceptional skill or talent. It seems
many people find great joy from theirs.
It seems to gnaw at my being and
I grow sorrowful that somehow
I am missing something.
Poem | |
How many spirits live in my soul?
How many spirits make me whole?
Who I am ....
Ask me again, where I am come from...
Am I the rules that make me numb?
Or the exception who is not under control?
Listen, I am free spirit
...not that shape I am in
Or not this skin I live in.
As the moment I exist....
I am that absorbent mind
...which was gender blind.
Nor am I daughter of anyone
Nor am I sister of her
Nor am I wife of yours...
I am the entity from that moment
When you were all unknown.
In this Earth, all we have shown ...
Here all warriors have come and gone.
Some people come as a blessing and some as lessons
One day you find your love and emotions are nothing but an illusion.
Don't worry, nothing lasts forever, not even you....
So your hate or anger is not worthy enough as your view.
For learning , social values & beliefs , here we forget (lost) our own(nature)....
But nobody remembers that one day all of your pride will be gone.
I am an art composed by 206 bones
So where I am from and where i will be gone...
Hmm...I have found the answer,
We all have to go back to that state when we were unborn.
Poem | |
Heaven’s light source pure
Radiated light-years beyond
Man’s conscious knowledge
And cosmic understanding.
Various brilliant streetlights
Of the universe charting
Courses through stretches
Of eternal darkness deep.
God keeps this Starlight
True to his very word
For when darkness wins
The keys of enlightenment
Fall prisoner to Lucifer
Who controls them for
His advantage over Man
At odds always with God.
Starlight reflects the way
For mankind’s quest in
Seeking ethereal guidance
And spiritual illumination.
This heavenly pure light
Keeps mankind on track
Despite Lucifer’s intrigues
To do just the opposite.
Man’s Earth time is short
And his date with destiny
Finds his fate held in the
Balance of God’s Hands.
But there is always the
Chance to ask God for
His advice and help—then
Waiting for the answer.
And God’s answer is
Coming in different ways
And—at the end, Salvation
Is granted by the act of God.
Being in God’s arms and
Looking back the way Man
Came reflects that everything
Was part of God’s divine purpose.
God’s grace and protection
On each and every one of the
Stones on the way and back
Was part of God’s divine plan.
At the end it turns out that
Everything was planned
From the very beginning
By you and God together.
The godly part created in
Man is the divine guidance
Which brings everybody
Back into the arms of God.
Now being in conscious awareness
Of God’s plans and creation,
Man can enjoy with inner peace the
Starlight—Heaven’s light source!
Gary Bateman and Ingrid Krukenberg-Bateman,
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
(January 30, 2015) (Unrhymed Quatrain)
Poem | |
Don’t judge that kid with her arms all scarred
Don’t brand that kid as bad
You never would have survived
If you had the life she had
So say a prayer and show you care
She’s paid more than her share of dues
Don’t put her down or say bad things
Until you’ve walked that mile in her shoes
Those who suffered in war earn respect
They are greeted like super stars
She came from a war you wouldn’t understand
On her arms, the battle scars
Her own home was the battle zone
The desperation, feeling all alone
A situation she felt no escape from
Then late at night the urges come
Innocence lost like a bad dream
No self respect, no self esteem
It is an ongoing battle to feel whole
You can see the beauty within her soul
Sometimes I pray for a Judgement day
You have no heart if you look away
Flashbacks come and the anger stirs
The guilt she carries isn’t hers
There is a need for justice long past due
A need for acceptance from me and you
With anger, despair and fear demanding
The child needs some understanding
In spite of all the tears she cried
There are still battle scars deep inside
Poem | |
You consider yourself average on a good day,
somewhat pretty on a whimsical day,
and downright atrocious on a bad day.
Your hair can’t decide to be straight or curly.
Your eyes are either luminous or dreary.
Your nose…too big.
Nothing looks right at all.
That’s why we have doctors.
Doctors to cure the horrible genes inflicted on you.
Doctors that can construct an artificial being,
made out of your lack of self-confidence,
and belief in self-mutilation.
Doctors that say they can make you beautiful.
Claiming that you aren’t beautiful now.
But you let them…
You let them call you ugly.
Let them plaster your face with assurances,
In order to make you beautiful.
They cut your face.
Remake something that was already good,
Into something worse.
Doctors that give you a lie.
Doctors that pledge to fix something
when they mean to break it.
They say you are ugly.
You aren’t pretty.
No, you definitely are not pretty.
Poem | |
It's yourself you deny
By portraying a lie
If you fake your way
Through life each day
Your spirit, your soul
Will reach a black hole
That's when you'll know
How the power to grow
Is to trust your worth
Right from birth
Because being true
Is being you.
by Ana Espinola Collins