Best For Teens Poems | Poetry

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For My Children

You’re all in charge of authoring a story
Of love and humor, suspense and glory
You’re writing starts with your very first thought
And doesn’t end til your life is naught.

Know, My Dears, these books; your own
There are no cowriters; authors unknown
Flip those pages and make your quills dance
Miss no opportunities, take a chance

If somewhere in those thick tomes of yours
You have questions “whys and what fors?”
Do not ponder and then overthink
For there’s no such thing as permanent ink

There will be some tearstained pages
Most likely in your middle ages
There will be words you’d like to forget
Or phrases in which you may regret

But when it reaches the golden stage
The best of the story in a later page
Grab a pencil and throw some sparks	
And don’t be afraid of eraser marks

Then once it’s written and you do find
There was a time of hurt when life’s unkind
Go ahead and toss out awful chapters
Because Momma loves Happily Ever Afters

Copyright © Rhoda Tripp | Year Posted 2018

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My Girl

Secretly, I watch the neighbors, 
From my well-advantaged location.
Mrs. G. is complaining about her husband to Mrs. S.
No one's drama is ever as vivid as Mrs. G's.
They full-body laugh, tongues out.
Mr. P. is going to be late for supper again; 
I can hear Mrs. P. cussing.
At 4:15 I hear the all-day waited slam of a backdoor.
My girl is running toward me, flat out.
She is carrying a white pillow and gray blanket.
There's a plastic bag swinging from her arm as she climbs.
Prior experience tells me the sack holds a book, a drink
and her favorite sandwich - mayonnaise, peanut butter and lettuce.
After smashing a few ants on my floor, the girl flops down, 
and begins to read.
I smile as she devours the sandwich like a young starving wolf.
She's ten, the perfect age to devour.
Every day is the same except Saturday.
On Saturday my girl spends the whole day inside me,
reading two to three books at a time.
It is our favorite day.
Her sister runs out sometimes and begs the girl to play,
but we are fighting pirates, conquering Asia, taming macaws.
We are so in tune, she and I.
I know my girl has to climb down and run for the house, 
leaving me alone, 
to spy on the neighbors.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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The empty words

 Desperate.. how can you be with someone and not love them. Desperate.. your heart is empty. Are you lonely? Desperate.. is it true? A shallow word? An empty meaning? Desperate..Desperate..Desperate, is it a rumor, the spread of words that ruin lifes. Am i invisable? I'm here. Standing in front of you. Maybe my glasses are blocking your view. I can change.. I'm not desperate. I'm in love, but then again what is love? An empty word. An empty meaning.. A rumor? 

a poem by LeannW.Brown 

Copyright © Stephanie Ward | Year Posted 2018

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The day I realized I was in love

          The first time she kissed me was the day when I realized that I was in love
                      When her lips met mine, my heart exploded so did my mind
                         It was as if the heavens and the Earth had combined,
           There were many people and many sounds but I could only hear one
           The voice of her heart, with every beat taking my name and only mine
           Her arms were giving me embrace and there I notice the beauty of her face
        Her lips red as a sunset, her face white as a dove, that was the day I fell in love

22 June 2018
A fictional poem
For the  contest" seven lines of Romantic Heaven"
Sponsor " Silent one "

Copyright © Faraz Ajmal | Year Posted 2018

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She's The Go Go Go Girl

"She's the Go Go Go Girl"

She’s the Go Go Go Girl
Livin' in the mo’
Likes to put on a show
Just for a li'l while
make you laugh and smile
Just for a li'l while 

Her mumma’s sayin'
whatcha' doin' li'l sista?
Keep dancin’ like that
in your twister skirt,
you’re gonna get yourself
a true blister mister!
Forget the Twerk.

She's the Go Go Go Girl
She's got places to go
and seeds to sew,
The Go Go Go Girl.
She's livin' in the mo'.

(Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)
for Georgia, Love your Mother.


In a moment of frivolity. Be Free free. Love, Mumma.


Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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Friendship Acrostic

F	Friends have each other’s backs
R	Real friends build each other up
I	I escape in my friend’s problems
E	Enthusiastic together and on the phone
N	No is okay, between friends.
D	Doing things together feels good.
S	Silence is okay
H	Have each other’s backs 
I	I need lots of them, and they rally for me.
P	Puts your attention outside yourself

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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What is this feeling
This feeling deep down in my soul
Eating away at me
Threatening to tear away my flesh
And unmask me as someone completely different
Than who I pretend to be

When you’re constantly worried
About being exposed
As someone who you think no one will like
You can’t focus on who you really are

Life is no fun
When you are not letting your true self out
If you constantly hold yourself back
Hiding from the world
Pretending to be tough
Pretending to be a person
Who is not bothered by their words

So let your hair down
Be the person you want to be
Who cares if they don’t like you
You are worthy of their love
If they can’t see that
They’re blind 

Let yourself cry
Let yourself feel the feelings that you always denied
Let yourself be who you want to be
Don’t be the person you think they will like
Be the person you will like

Copyright © Alexandra Hill | Year Posted 2018

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Advice Not From Your Mother

Yes, I say you should seek the absurd,
 the outrageous, 
the deliriously mad.

I implore you to find the happy,
the joyful,
those crazed with perpetual glad.

Spend your time 
with insanely laughing idiots, 
where tomfoolery abounds.

You won’t have time
to resent a day of your life 
with this kind 
of tribe around.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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A room with one window

There are rumours of a land,
A land more beautiful than anything else. 
There is sunshine out there…
And trees. And grass, animals, bushes, flowers, vines, laughter, love, smiles, hugs.
It’s beautiful there.
Though… I wouldn’t really know.
Cause you see, I am housed in a different compartment.
I live in a room with one window.
It’s not a bad room,
It has a big bed, nice cupboards, a dining table… And a window.
I can’t reach the window though,
It’s on the ceiling and the walls are too high.
I try to climb but I keep on falling down.
And the window is very dirty,
You can’t see much out of it.
I don’t know what lies outside my compartment.
But there are rumours of a land,
A land more beautiful than anything else.
Sometimes I feel the gentle brush of wind on my skin
when the window cracks a little bit,
But it always seals itself back together.
I’ve started to think the land outside does not exist.
After all, I’ve never seen it.
All that I see is a room with one window.

Copyright © Klaudia Barylska | Year Posted 2018

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Good Manners

~Good Manners~ (Rhyme Verse) It is good to have manners And I'am refering to good ones It's great to say 'Thank you' When you get something from someone Good manners you can always Cultivate them in your talk You can learn them all In your life as you walk This wonderful process should Begin when the kids are small Parents should teach all Their children good manners These days we don't meet Many children with good manners you see Most of them act rude and that's a shame And that goes for teens and adults too Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2009 February.07.2015

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015

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The Curse

                        The Curse
No worse curse for teens,
Pull a crime, succeed at it,
Instills self-greatness.

Copyright © Michael Hawk Moore | Year Posted 2014

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In some places, springs leaves too early
making way for the fun season; whichever
the activity we choose, let's do it well and happily...
before loneliness sinks us into unbearable despair.

If depression, aches and pains prevent some from engaging
in sports: read a novel, do cleaning chores and try walking...
it  will do the body good and keep the mind active and sharp;
isn't age a burden for musicians not being able to play a harp?

If only we were young, we would do hiking and climb a mount,
go sailing and catch salmon, lobster, carp and bluefish;
at eighty, some join a marathon and win it: what's their secret?
Is there a miraculous pill that can boost energy in a flash?

Let the fun season be a daily escape from much boredom and stress,
summer is not only a season for teens who wear baseball caps;
find a sport not too strenuous, something that you can enjoy...
my favorite one: is having a tennis match with unbeatable uncle Tony!

Copyright ( c ) 20015 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2015

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My Age


My age is nothing but a number, nothing but a slumber that I can’t wake from, this is what I’ve done. I’ve looked around and found that the matter of the fact is life isn’t what it’s supposed to be for me.

The average teenager spends most of their lifetime looking at their phones and when it’s time to learn something new their minds have already grown. Absorbing every single thing that they are sold, having a twelve year old’s body and the mind of a twenty one year old.

Social media doesn’t help the situation, it only changes how the different problems are situated. It has stolen complete sentences and created abbreviations, shortcuts of a language used by my generation. You could be laughing out loud when in reality you’re crying, saying TBH to be honest when in actual fact you’re actually lying.
And to that you can’t say anything because if LIFE was abbreviated it would stand for Living In Fear of Everything.
This is what I go through, in addition the music industry has had a major breakthrough. It has managed to be more influential promoting sex, drugs and slurs that are racial. “Making money moves” is about dancing on a pole, “Smoke weed everyday” is the daily intake of dope and this is said all while mentioning the one African American slave term that we all know. My nig-...I can’t say it though. So why do you. You have no idea who that affects. Sometimes we need to learn to be more politically correct.

They say that euphoria is just around the corner, behind the school building in a midst of vape. These are the lies they create, saying everything is ok. Just inhale it once and you’ll be done. I’m sorry, you can call me a loner but don’t mistake me for a stoner. One shot, two shots, three shots, four, hard. Call me antisocial but I’ve never drank before and I’m not about to start.

Society is full of influences, temptations and choices. However people like me always end up being voiceless. They think we’re too young to have any serious issues, that’s just another excuse for not wanting to accept the truth. You choose to change the subject to something totally unrelated, “We don’t have many problems?” well isn’t that an understatement?

You say that it will change, you say it’s just a phase, you say it’s another page in my story, no, this stage, right here...

This is MY AGE!

Copyright © Daniel Koria | Year Posted 2018

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Hello Freind

What’s up? I hope you’re doing well. I see life has taken it’s toll on you, believe me I can tell. Its like from the moment you are born society places you under its spell. Damn it what the hell is going on? I bet that’s the dialogue of your higher self. So guess what? They may label you but no one can place you on a shelf because your soul is not for sale! They can brand you call you all sorts of names, put you in boxes of every weight, size and shape but they can’t ship you in the mail. You are priceless my friend but valuable at the same time. And as one the closest friends you will ever have in THIS existence. I want to help calm the storms that are raging in your mind.  So you tell me you feel like nobody understands you and you feel all alone in what you are going and growing through. Hey man I see you, I hear you I FEEL YOU. I am here for you I want to be there for you even when they say you are too soft spoken, I lend you my ears so you can let you heart speak because I want to unconditionally be there for you. Hey man listen I know you experienced times and situations where you felt no connection to anyone and they labeled you antisocial weird and unvocal. I been there too and I know that can drive even the best of us loco. So you tell me you feel anxious and stressed out about your future based on your past experiences, like all the things that were said to you, done to you caused you to want to just get away from it all and shut down. I get it and to honest with you, it’s perfectly Ok to NOT be ok. It’s actually cool to not fit in because you have the power to DECIDE when you are in alignment with what you feel inside.  Why? Because only you can know what is best. Until next time take care and be blessed.

Copyright © Christen Foster | Year Posted 2018

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Small Town Nostalgia

Towering sycamores embraced, forming canopies over the streets.
Crime was unknown - (three part-time cops patrolled their beats.)
'Cept for teens in hot-rods who were bent on an occasional toot!
Folks were entertained as cops chased them in hot pursuit!

There was a Fourth of July parade with fireworks after dark.
Presbyterian and Baptist ladies served watermelon in the park.
Old vets in tight-fitting uniforms marched with resolute stride,
Followed by the school band in which the town took great pride!

The paperboy was prompt with the news to enjoy with a cup of joe,
(Tho' it usually landed in the bushes due to his ill-aimed throw!)
Folks greeted friends and neighbors with a hearty, "Howdy do!"
Pausing to swap a bit of gossip since they had little else to do!

Proms were held in the school gym and didn't leave a feller broke.
Idlers met at the barber shop to hear the latest risque joke.
Kids sold lemonade on their lawns for a dime a glass,
But urbane lads visited the ice cream parlor to treat their lass!

Church bells summoned worshippers on Sundays with clarion peal.
Moms invariably fixed chicken and dumplings for the Sunday meal!
I have many fond memories of small town life that I can't forget.
I return to relive those blissful days every chance that I can get!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2010

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Letter From Me To Teen Me

I heard a tale once
Of vapid medium matrix
And taut smiley convolutes

A tale which embarked me
At that time
Yet gave me no notion of its truer

You see
The ocean has no currents when you’re under

You see
You don’t see into your own eyes very often

You see

But the many yous that make a lifespan up
Can see you and make you see through

There is a tremblesome youngster in all of us
The one which makes crusaderies bearable
And laughter cramps quotidian gamblers

The breathtaken gasping-at-everything
Taken aback little idiot with the
Thunder in his belly
And the crawls below her skin
And the overhead waves 
Evermore crashed within
Yes my meek teen rally
Once a half-contrived sin
Once my part bright moon
Of a solitary kin
Comes in all of us it seems

And we make up threads of social
For the fabric of our culture
That we start to weave adawn

Yet at dawn we are not there
With a full grown self aware

And at the solar peak of glare
We are still too young to care

Then at scarlet tap of dusk
Still a bit too tough to bare

Last at midnight we are gripped
With the fullest conscient gaze

So we can all marvel upon
How much oxygen we waste

In this marvellous endeavour

I think though it’s for the better
And I’ve slowly learned to praise
All the veiling in this system
Of Born
Then Raised
Then Very Dead

What I mean is there’s some Wise
In the grinds of our Ways
How Ethereum with potential
Gets palpable and cased

Because then we can all be
With the hardship of adult
And the vestige of a kid

And then we get to die
To get it over with…

But wait I still have something
A little more positive to say

Like the first person on Mars
Is likely still a kid
So when we get to Mars
We’ll still float in that kid

If you feel trapped in the smiley
And depressed and yesterdated
Version of yourself

It means you still have all
The other phases ahead

Yet it might not still be quite
As freely as you’re expecting
That your form will excavate
Through life’s cruel winding

Not all of us will get
To float our kid to Mars

Yes, you’ll get it All
Oh yes, you’ll get to try

But in the end, my friend
You’ll be glad you get to die.

11 March 2018

Copyright © Tom Alan Quest | Year Posted 2018

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life and the pressure it brings

the way you look the way you dress
your street cred will go down if it does not impress
the way you act or the way you talk
if your saying it then you have to walk the walk
there's so much stress for teens to cope
if you dont fit in then youve got no hope
people get mocked people get slated
people get remarks people get hated
its a tough world for us all to live
you know your going to get robbed so you might aswell give
wether its your mobile phone or even your money
people will do that because they find it funny
you have to defend yourself when your out on the street
because you never know what kind of people your going to meet
theres people out there who want to cause you pain 
the stuff they can do will drive you insane
theres so much pressure when you're a teenager
you need to be careful your life could be in danger
if you dont fit in the crowd they'll come to you first
and things wont get better they will just get worse
but dont get involved in what they decide to do
because youll end up the target they will turn on you
they might seem like good friends who set the trend 
but you need to think are they really your friend
have you ever wondered what they want from you
your sanity, dreams and maybe your life too
playing with fire and twisting your head
would these people care if you were found dead
well just remember the to do and not to do things
and just think about life and the pressure it brings

Copyright © kelly stokes | Year Posted 2014

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A baby to me
A fragile being
Nine months
Feels like much longer

I have no child
Within or about me
Life taking to much of a toll
Society bending their ways in my mind

Unexceptable for teens
What happens from marriage
After all education is done
And a job fully secured

I crave for my own flesh and blood
To be carried in my body
Then in my arms
To show the world, my new life
With a small girl
I'd name

Copyright © Brittany Gentry | Year Posted 2010

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Pick me Pick Me

I quiver with excitement.
Here comes Big Hand.
Will she pick me up?
Big Hand picks up a pink paper clip.
Pink paper clip sticks her tongue out at me; we loathe each other.
She always thinks she’s all that when she gets chosen over me.
I can do small jobs too, you know, I think with a sigh.
My arch enemy, clipped to the top of several sheets of white paper is lying on her side now, gloating.
I cannot believe her smug grin.
Big Hand is moving again toward me.
Choose me! Choose me! I yell, but only in my mind, as I have no voice.
Big Hand picks up a pen and begins to write, types on the keyboard.
Plick. Plick. Plick. Plick. Plick. Plick. She types fast.
Picks up gray eraser, furiously tears him apart all over the paper.
I am relieved she never does that to me.
Typing again.
Plick. Plick. Plick. Plick. Plick. 
Decimates eraser a bit more.  Scrapes his skin off onto the floor.
I feel hopeful because I almost always get used after Big Hand does this much typing.
This is always when she needs me the most.
I listen to keyboard clicking for three days, and two nights. 
On Wednesday morning Big Hand moves precariously close to me. 
Is this my day? I seize up with excitement.
She slides a bunch of papers into my large metallic mouth.
Snap. Snap. 
She looks at the teeth I have left.
Smiles. Satisfied.
I happily stick my tongue out at pink paperclip.
Who is the top dog now?

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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If You Have Courage Enough

     I was sitting in my
     small cottage with
     a cot and a chair
    On name of furniture.
   The little window was
    my amazing friend
    Because it gave me
    Chance to peep through.

   The next window panes
   Always welcomes eyes
   A girl Motee(fat) was forcing
   mirror to declare herself princess.
  A coat of talcum powder
  followed by sun cream lotion,
  all artificial things to fool girls
  market produced for beauty.

   Nice fragrance to add ghee in fire
   From left to right, feet to head
  examined herself but not satisfied
   Once I dare to tell her truth hard.

   Beauty lies in our self not
   in things that used by you
   Wrestler brothers bad memories
   Recalled ,got on first they met.
   If you have courage enough
   to tell her once Motee 
   got rewards fractures on body 
   Then why not dare my buddy.


Copyright © Arjun Jangid | Year Posted 2018

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Witch hunt

“I never said “no”, or tried to fight back,?and I never spoke up about the attack.?But I never said “yes”, or chose to undress,?and I never did think it was safe to confess ?his filthy secret. ?I never said “no”, or tried to fight back ?but I was so scared, and the night was so black,?and regardless of whether I was reckless and wild?I was still simply an innocent child. ?I was still simply an innocent child?with whom he somehow felt so beguiled ?that he believed it was his right to rape her – ?but it never was,?and that statement does not even need a “because”, ?because the fact that rape is never okay?should not have to be justified in some way. ?My body is mine, it belongs to me alone?and I cannot believe anyone could condone?the objectification and dehumanization ?of a girl who is not even old enough to know the sensation?of being “provocative”.?And even if she were, ?the blame still would not fall upon her,?because every man should know better.?Every man should know better,?should understand that a lack of consent is a clear enough “no”,?for if something is not given, if it is not explicitly shown,?only an idiot or criminal would take it as theirs to own –?and anyone who rapes is the lowest of both.?So while I never said “stop”, or tried to fight back ?it is fully his fault for initiating the attack?to begin with. ?And while I suppose it is possible for one to lie?about sexual assault, the proven percentage of false claims is not high?therefore I really cannot comprehend why?it is so common to ignore the victim and believe the accused?because in doing so, society sides with abuse?and that in itself is sickening. ?So I do not care who you are, whether you are a pauper or star?or the goddamn president of the United States –?we woman have decided it is time to life these weights?from our chests.?We are coming with our pitchforks and stakes?and when the clock strikes the hour ?of your downfall and removal from power?you will find yourself rotting?in the hell of your own creation, suffering eternal damnation ?for the crimes you so cruelly committed,?and there is no chance of being acquitted?especially for those who so proudly admitted ?to their actions as if this were some sort of game. ?Sure, I never said “no”, or fled his attack?but now we have collectedly chosen to fight back –?and this may be a “witch hunt”, but the threat from you witches is real?and the only thing we are going to “steal”?is our right to a safe and empowered life,?free from the chains of struggle and strife?that the world has so wickedly cast upon us.?This may be a “witch hunt”, but if you want to stay safe?The simple key to survival is this:?don’t fucking rape women ?to begin with.”

Copyright © Taylor Erxleben | Year Posted 2018

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Battle Rap

I see you got expensive shoes,
But you couldn't pay someone to screw you.
You walk around all day thinking you're hot as fondu.
Yeah, you got cheese,
And you think that makes you an OG.
Well, let us just see.
Yeah, we'll put that to the test.
You think that you're the best,
But you ain't got enough to put together a mess
Of words to make me feel less
like a man. When I'm done, you're gonna guess
At where you went wrong
Because this is a fighting song.
This verse ain't short, it's long
Because I'm going to rip you apart like I did your mom
Last night with my massive...
I'm blasting through this battle.
I'm amassing nukes.
I'm everlasting, dude.
You ain't got what it takes to be passing, fool.
I'm a master, you
Are just a massive douche.
I'm gassing you.
You ain't gonna be able to pick it up before I come after you.
You'll feel like half a dude.
I've got a magic spool
Of yarn that keeps flowing 
Like my words to make you realize I'm glowing
with power.
This is my hour.
I'm going to shower
You with disses like my granny waters a flower.
It's just gonna keep coming.
I'm running through and busting you
Like I'm cutting you and bussing through
I'm gonna be slapping you silly. 
This ain't no willy nilly, speaking like a hill-billy.
"I ain't got nuttin 'a say"
What's wrong with your brain
You should have known it was a mistake
To go up against someone as messed up and insane
As me. 
I'm king of the ring.
Your girl was a one night thing.
Just a quick fling.
Almost done now,
But before I dip I'm going to go to town
On you so that you make sure to stay off my ground.
Yeah, I'm going to make you bow down
With this final roast. 
I don't mean to boast,
But you can't bring enough heat to toast
Me, let alone host
these competitions. But don't give it to me.
Once I'm done with the beat,
You better know I'm gone like a ghost.
I'm on the Friends with Benefits level with your sister.
Your cousin calls me her mister.
Yo auntie wants me to fist her.
And now your bestie told me she got blisters.
I told you I was gonna make you wish ya
Had never stepped to me.
I'm the best, ya see.
This battle had cost you and the next ain't free.

Copyright © Braedon Rogers | Year Posted 2018

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Against the Grain

This is me
A guitar with no strings
A glass half empty
A bad bean
The blackest sheep

I am in pain
Inside I howl like a grieving mother
Like im decapitated and now my limbs are off. 
I am in pain just like that
But why cant I ever be felt?

Its terrible
Spilling what is bottled up inside
Vulnerable is sad
Cry is disgusting
Because no one will ever be ready for the truth

So you get ostracized for being weak
Excluded by people that mattered to you
Then the big question is... Why?
But they say its all in your head
And the more you demand, beg for it...
It just doesnt work that way. 

Reality hits you hard when you least expect it. 
But whats striking is I never expect anything. 
I love, give, trust, make everyone happy. 
And at my downest, nothing was repelled. 
The sun isnt shining, and I hope it rains. 

Steady stares to nothing have come often. 
I am now familiar with my breathing patterns
I can now distinguish the difference between americano and brewed just by its smell. 
I am evolving. 
Now sober and mostly alone. 
A little silent but more resilient. 

I dont want to feel but not be numb
I dont want to hear the talking but I despise the silence. 
I want to hide but Im begging to be found. 
I am vulnerable but I’m safe to touch. 
I am real...

but why no one can ever really see me as much?

Copyright © Yvette Dignos | Year Posted 2018

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My Life My Way

         My Life My Way 1

       In childhood mom says:
       In school mam says:
       In youth she says:
       After that my age will say:
       Don't! , Don't! , Don't! , 
                                     don't  .
      Count how many times
      Now go to hell  

      All  is  well, I say

      My Life My Way.

    Can you change my
                     Yesterday (past)?
    Can  you  predict my
                     Tomorrow (future)?
    Uncle  if  you  reply
   Then why are you spoiling my
                       Today (present)?
    Don't compete with 
                        River's way
   My Life My Way. 

   Let me enjoy with 
                       full swing
   Both the land and 
                          the sky.
   I shall follow only
                the lion's way.  
   My   Life     My   Way.

   I am happy with my way
               Then why you are worry
  To tell to me very sorry
             Go atonce away from here
   All pleasant lying there
             Jumping parasuitless from air
   Riding on crocodile's back is fare 
             Can anybody like feet in sack
   Mind you your business o! Mack
             The heaven only in my way.
   My Life My Way 

Copyright © Arjun Jangid | Year Posted 2018

Details | For Teens Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Barely Know These People

We carry our phones now.
We call them I-phones.
Not sure if this is because we are Internet-aware
Or simply I’s instead of We’s now.
It’s time to exchange mine for a newer model;
Happens every two years.
How many contacts do you have? They ask me as
The upload of phone numbers begins. I am horrified
Later to see it has uploaded all of my Facebook friends.
 I barely know these people. 
Barely is a giant stretch.
At her heyday, I had 1800 Facebook friends.
Over three hundred of these have been angrily deleted.
Perhaps this is why I don’t murder in real life.
I get the same satisfaction by merely pressing the delete key,
Sending  offender into oblivion.
I have become swift, and ruthless.
Pressing the un-friend button when things enrage me.
Little things like….
Posting my weight.
Posting a photo of me trying to push my stomach fat into skinny pants,
Posting photos of animals who have been tortured or defiled.
Photos of KNOWN pedophiles (KP).
Known to whom?
More often than not, I don’t even know the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend who first
Posted the so-called KP ‘s photo.
I was considering un-friending 
One facebook contact who had been posting
Photos of KPs every eleven and a half minutes
When she was awake.
The trouble is, 
She did not know them,
And neither did hundreds of others who re-posted his photo.
I had my finger on the Un-friend button one day
After seeing 22 of her latest KP photos, when I glanced
Down and my brain made me read some of the words.
Many people were threatening her with libel
On her Facebook page.
Some of these so-called KP photos were popped onto
Facebook by ignorant, thoughtless, un-caring people who
Thought it would be funny.
F U N N Y ?
One put his neighbor up as a pedophile
Because he was angry the guy put his garbage out two hours early.
Yes, country folks, in the city, there are rules about how long garbage can be out there.
I used to forget to push the un-follow button too,
I am more cognizant now.
Thinking about how crazy we have become as 
A society on Facebook, with I-phones, and with
General indifference for each other, 
I was pondering throwing away my phone
When I remembered with a jolt
That this little rectangle
Cost me fifteen times what my first automobile cost,
So I decided to review my thinking.
How could I use this little rectangle for good?
I began scrolling through my contact list, 
Waiting for inspiration
Words often do that for me.
And after all, aren’t names words?
I could feel my face smiling as 
I reviewed my peeps.
I started remembering the fun times I’ve had
With the ones I recognized.
Most of them co-workers.
Man, did we have some fun times!
We used to play together daily.
Stories started saturating my brain.
Stories about how I had adored so many of these people
Who have now become a two word line in my I-phone.
Story after story popped into my head
As I scrolled through my I-phone last night.
One March my husband was asking about W-2s.
Crap! I think they were handed to me a couple of months ago.
My co-worker, Karla saw me tearing my office apart. 
She immediately jumped on board, and began rummaging through my extended piles
Which had somehow started in the anteroom I was supposed
To be sharing with another teacher, but wasn’t.
Twenty minutes later Karla plunked the W-2s down
In front of me and a pile of clothes I had been searching through.
Don’t laugh; I found a half eaten cinnamon roll that was still good.
I hugged her. 
Where did you find them?
In between the three hundred and ten
Fire prevention posters out in the anteroom.
Why had she even looked there?
Because I know you, she said.
On a whim I sent a little text to eight co-workers.
Some I had not seen or heard from in over twenty-five years.
I love you, I texted them, and no, I’m not dying, but thank you for asking.
Within six minutes five of them had texted me back.
Such good feelings flooded my being as I read each text.
One made me laugh.
We had not forgotten each other.
At this rate, in eleven months, if I contact five 
Contacts each night, I could get through them all.
But why would I want to?  
I don’t even KNOW these people!

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018