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Grace Martin-Chang Poem
Her hands were sore from carrying weights
That were heavier than her soul
She was worried about being late
To her own funeral
She prefered pretty lies
Over what was real
When she opened her eyes
She was able to heal
But she stayed asleep
And never wandered far
She was counting sheep
While you were counting scars
She was still tired
No matter how much she did rest
She wasn't wired
To pass that kind of test
She was trying to hold on
To what had already let go
She was just a pawn
In her master’s puppet show
She bit her bottom lip
And played with her blonde curls
But honey that’s just the tip
Of this iceberg of a girl
Rain poured from her brain
As though it was a cloud
The water streamed through her veins
And froze when she left the crowd
Her most positive thoughts may be darker,
Than her most negative blood.
He wrote his name on her heart in marker,
But it washed off in the flood.
Copyright © Grace Martin-Chang | Year Posted 2018
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Grace Martin-Chang Poem
The ocean is calm,
But the storm is calmer.
He kissed her palm,
Then drowned her in water .
They tied her hands together,
Then changed her name.
And no matter the weather,
In the ocean it would rain.
Her hands began to ache,
From the ropes cutting her skin.
She needed to take,
Instead of always giving in.
She wanted to get back on land,
But she learned to love the sea.
She grew used to ropes around her hands,
But She missed her family.
And as the years went by,
She forgot her hometown.
she learnt to comply,
As she continued to drown.
Copyright © Grace Martin-Chang | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Grace Martin-Chang Poem
Watch where you are swimming:
Your metal heart is starting to rust.
You are too used to winning,
Darling be careful of who you trust.
You hold a knife up to your neck,
And expect it not to hurt.
I know our world’s a wreck,
But honey yours is far worse.
Put down your cigarette,
And take a breath of plain air.
This isn’t a threat,
But if something happened, who would care?
Words won’t save you.
Not in this world of beautiful chaos.
It’s time to break though.
Sometimes losing isn’t a loss.
Pull the trigger.
You like the power, don’t you?
Feeling bigger?
Be careful: don’t fall through.
Privacy doesn’t exist,
Not in a world full of watchers.
We have a list
Of the questions to all your answers.
So sing me a lullaby ,
And put me to sleep.
Say your last goodbye,
And choose who to keep.
Copyright © Grace Martin-Chang | Year Posted 2018
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