I’m shattered,I won’t lie,
today has been long.
I’m tired yet awake,
can’t escape the throng.
Day light has ventured
and left while I worked,
The night has arrived now,
still never I shirked.
My eyelids are heavy,
my limbs they are tired,
And still on I toil now,
my time’s not yet expired.
Grateful am I
for the work that I do.
But soon I’ll be bidding
A ‘good night’ to you.
Do you exist just to survive
or would you like to make decisions
to help your body thrive
Five years of endurance from the age of ten
nightly menu of mashed potato, cold roast meat
no greens no fruit,nothing else, if you didn't like the food it was hunger
There was not another thing to eat
Daily morning breakfast, nutritionally no better
a bowl of corn flakes and a cup of tea
Consumed in a household of two smokers
good health could never hope to be
Many coughs, colds, tired
and aching in the ears
Life a daily challenge
full of many fears
Boils upon the legs the head
often near the nose
Fatigue, fall asleep in class
a life of daily woes
Adversity has a purpose
it makes us stronger or we fall
Decisions to be made
when our backs are to the wall
And the decision that was made fifty years ago
turned his life around
Modified his eating patterns
the old days had now run aground
In his house there are no smokers
a large variety of orqanic greens, nuts and fruits
His exceptional state of well being reflects
the selection of his culinary pursuits
The mind was an enemy of itself
A weapon forged by its own hands
Every thought a spiral of panic
Every decision a thought out plan
Silence became a blessing when noise is all you've known
It becomes a safe place after a war of chaos
The betrayal of your own thoughts is a tragedy on its own
To not have your own back, in a world against you
Is to have a house not a home
To be surrounded by people, yet still feel alone
A prison of your insecurities
Haunted by the ghost of regrets
Forever lingering in the deepest part of your soul
The mind a vast ocean of dead past selves
Screaming to be heard
Begging to be known
Wailing to be loved
But who could love a mind that's perception of love is non-existent
Fatigue drains the fight from the spirit
Within the mind numbness creeps
Paralysing the mind until it gives in
To a life sectioned by depression
Until the poison of self deprication becomes too much
That you fall into the state of being a zombie
Trapped inside a body you no longer own
Each day becomes a blur
A constant reminder of a life long gone
A sad ending to the person you were
My name is Loneliness, a mask I wear,
Faces surround me, but none see my care.
I surround myself with fleeting ties,
Acquaintances who hear my words, not my sighs.
My name is Fatigue, a weight I bear,
Work my only solace, a reason to rise, a purpose to share.
Without it, I'm lost in a haze,
Dragging hours like chains, in endless days.
My name is Disappointment, a shadow cast,
Each effort a fresh wound, each try a forecast.
What's the point of striving when the end is known?
Regret, a familiar ache, a sorrow grown.
My name is Misery, a shadow I carried,
etched into my bones by all the pains I have married.
I drown in fleeting comforts, in amber tides,
where sorrow ebbs and numbs what grief provides.
Each wound has shaped me, carved me, made me whole,
yet still the ache lingers, so I sip for solace.
My name could be Sadness, a constant guest,
Tears fall like autumn rain, chilling my rest.
Yet in this sorrow, I find a strange reprieve,
A fragile pulse that persists, a heartbeat I retrieve.
Breathing should be easy
Yet somehow it's the most difficult action
We shouldn't have to remind ourselves
Yet here we are
But what is the point when the world has its knees on our neck
Why fight a battle that strips us of our weapons
The expectations to submit
To actions unfit to complete
When either way our existence gets us killed
Scolded when we plead -
For human rights and equality
Peace was never an option
When survival is to watch us bleed
It's a familiar type of exhaustion
One my people know all to well
Where - we breathe and we die
Or we speak up and it's systemic suicide
Tensions suffocate the air
All we want from life is to be treated fair
Yet, atlas life is a never ending cycle -
For us, filled with chronic despair
It's hard to breathe when silence is the only option
When the words are there, but in the end we end up choking
It's always been this way, of cyclical hope then watch it slowly dissipate
Knowing we can't trust it, yet it clings to us for survival
One day maybe it'll be different story
Though let's not hold our breath
We still need it for our survival, Rome wasn't built in a day, we have to be realistic
waiting is exhausting ~ I'm drained
AP: 3rd place 2025
She says I’m so fun,
then claims that we’re done,
she says she hates me,
then wants my babies.
first she wants her man,
then says, “Go use your hand.”
She stares at my eves,
then says I’m full of lies.
The aggravation…
the resignation…
I think I’ve had enough
of her bipolar love.
Bipolar love.
She dreams of houses,
then only grouses,
wants to show me off,
then snaps, “Just get lost.”
One day she’s a dream,
and the next only screams,
How do I deal with that?
In love with only half...
The real confusion…
the sad delusions…
I think I’ve had enough,
of her bipolar love.
Bipolar love.
I want to love her,
and not be disturbed,
hope she gets well,
but half the time it’s hell.
It this allright?
Am I justified?
This is not her fault…
but drives me up the wall.
Mishmash of feelings…
it leaves me reeling…
I think I’ve had enough,
of her bipolar love.
Bipolar love.
Would it be safer to be born as a white person
In a world that worships them
What would it take for the world to accept black
When we have always been treated as less than
What would the world look like if we chose peace
Where our hands connect in the name of justice
But you don't want this
Clearly
Cause if you did we wouldn't live in a world of injustice
Where the only language you speak is racist rhetoric
Where your only purpose
Is to spread hatred
To a race that wants nothing more than to be accepted
But are met with your envy turned racist
So what makes you hate black people
Is it because when you look in the mirror
It cracks with jealousy
Is it because you see our potential
Or is it because our blackness is to political
To the point where you decide you have to get rid of us
And if you agree with this
With racism
You are sick and twisted
And if you believe in the devil
Even he would agree that your evil
Black without a mask
What would it look like to be black without a mask?
Would it look like freedom?
Or would they laugh?
At our attempt to be ourselves
To feel like we can tell the world
That we are fighting back
That we are tired of being attacked
That we are human and you should respect that
Maybe it would feel like a weight removed
Like entering a sunlit room
Like when flowers finally bloom
Like when the sky shows you the moon
And you know it's time to for bed
And you can rest your head
After a long day That had you stressed
What would it feel to burn that mask ?
Would it feel cathartic
Being black and being free from the curse of having to act robotic
In a world that wants us to shrink
And overthink our emotions
Maybe it would feel like letting go of a deep breath
Or waking up from a nap refreshed
If only racism didn't exist
We wouldn't have to dream of this
We'd have the privilege
Of freeing our emotions
I read the news. I want to flee.
I have "hate fatigue" you see.
I don't wish to add more fuel,
by saying, "cowardly and cruel",
or calling discourse national
ignorant or irrational.
I might note that hate causes pain,
misery, hurt, and more hate again,
spreading as freely as a virus,
like the flu or hepatitis.
It can take on many forms.
I hope racism and bullying aren't new norms.
Hate is a problem. The solution
is not to add to hate pollution.
I have "hate fatigue" you see.
I don't hate you. Please don't hate me.
It is an unfortunate reality,
Those most able to tie word and misery -
Are most often the least spoken.
They are capable of divining the self,
Pulling out streams of emotion.
- Emotion that is far heavier than simple tears.
The words pull at their friends' heartstrings,
Puppeteering their empathy,
Taking all the warmth that they had too.
That's the curse of an ailed writer,
only knowing ink and page -
because paper doesn't cry.
they ache from bending hot day picking....
union of voices spanish tongue
in produce fields dusty sweating farmworkers....
wanting needing more bread
Every time you slammed the door
Every time you dropped the call
Every time you yell at me through and through
I get tired too.
Every time you passed before me
Every time complaints ring upon me
Every time murmurs being me
I get tired too.
Am I your emotions punching bag?
Am I your stress reliever?
Am I your eyes strainer?
Can’t take it anymore
I wanna flee faraway
Hiding in mountains, caves and valleys
Where shadows are no more
Pissing me off I can’t control
Every time I was criticized
Every time I was embarrassed
Every time I’m manipulated
Underrated, I get tired too.
Most of the time you frown
Tantrums hit the ground
The reasons are unknown I got mixed emotions
I wanna stay away
For toxics just have pure fun with me
Seizing my right to be me
Seeing me as a piece of prey
I get tired, I am tired I am exhausted
I am frustrated
Getting messed with you
I wanna fight back with you
But it’s not necessary for I love you so
Strangled by the bond that cannot be taken
It’s not mistaken, it’s purely original
Don’t know how can this be shaken
My life is not optimal
We run towards fear when fear is familiar.
My energy was left in last weeks trash that my roommate took out two days ago.
When they found it, they noticed it was glued to a heart and soul.
Lifeless and empty, they left it there to be.
A new feeling, so dull, had engulfed my body.
How will one succeed if they are chasing their demons just so they can sleep?
Their lifeless souls have been given a place to stay.
She fed and took care of them, yet they continued to run the other way.
She reluctantly sighed, and began once again: the tender chase of the demons that live in her head.
Just another long afternoon
Of another long long day
Mind numbing weariness
That just won’t go away.
My eyelids are heavy
I just want to sleep
For once no need
To be counting sheep
The cat is staring at me
In almost hypnotic control
It’s so intense as though
He’s penetrating my soul.
I break his gaze with
A great effort of will
I feel in my mind that
He’s staring at me still
There are so many things
That I really should do
But it’s taking all my effort
Not to sleep the day through.
The stairs loom like mountains
I’ll need to conquer tonight
For maybe three hours sleep
And a mostly broken night.
Fatigue and insomnia seem
Somehow to combine
And the days this week
Seem to be a blur of time.
A cycle of existence that
Some how seems to take
A huge force of will to gather
The mental strength to break.
It may still take days but I know
There’ll come a time when
I’ll break free from this torpor to
Get life back on track again
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