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Layla Elkoulily Poem
People were
Many things.
Strange or not
People were
Different and
Odd and fun.
People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all
People were
And still are
Strange and odd.
People are
People. For
life is life.
Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from
Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move
But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.
Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.
Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.
Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.
Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.
Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.
Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
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Layla Elkoulily Poem
Is my life not tortured enough for you to see?
I am broken as can be.
My heart is torn.
My tears stain these perfect floors.
Why are singing with glee?
Why do you not care about my every plea?
I am trapped in your arms.
I am the hopeless moth.
How did you pick me?
What is it that you see?
A girl untouched by life?
A flower blooming in the desert?
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
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Layla Elkoulily Poem
It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath
the ice.
More than remaining in a
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why?
It burned and it stung.
The markings remained,
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little
known loathing were the known
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the
child that cried
Never was their relief for the
child that tried
You were that lovely bird that
understood the complications of
felicity
Nothing looked the same in
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears
of joy.
The others-they were yet to
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
You were that beautiful bird
filled with care.
The others came and were not
alone. Their two suitors sat on
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you
come?
I began to wither and wither
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a
human raceme.
The droops of the Lily of the
Valley became the slumping of
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had
taken you and the person you
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its
intricate self and you became
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
Mother, Mother what moved
you so?
Your intense spirt vanished only
to supplement a monster.
Mother, Monster and your tar
filled lungs.
How did I kill that liver that was
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you
turn?
My lovely bird and your big
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as
quickly as lice.
You dear bird hurt me well.
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest
strength.
You brought me up, then you
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you
down in your deep black
slumber.
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
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Layla Elkoulily Poem
"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one.
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed.
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent.
A meager thought
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows,
"Save them."
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
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Layla Elkoulily Poem
We do not compare to one another.
My skin is the coal the people used.
Your skin is the powder the flappers adore.
My soul is deep and my heart is pure.
Pure as white!
Your soul is shallow and your heart is dark.
Darker than the skin my poeple hold.
We may not compare, but you are my brother.
Not by blood
or by class.
We are fused-
fused by lives we live and the past we lived
We are connected forevermore.
There was a master and he was cruel.
The crakel of the whip was the electric shock of my greats.
There was no hope for the slave that cried.
There was no voice for the slave that would not hide.
Flight was the tantalizing thought.
The slave hadn't a chance to live in flight or freedom.
Their was only the need to fight.
Fight to live and fight to breathe.
Those greats so far down kept on fighting.
They kept on preserving.
They had their beauty that could never be touched.
White Man, White Man listen to me.
I was the coal that was used.
I was the coal that was taken from its home.
I was the coal that was discarded and given freedom.
The flappers are young and they love their powder.
You will be used and you will become the slave.
I am the coal that is free.
You are the powder that is used.
My beauty will never will fill a white mans body.
Too much has been seen and too much has been lived.
No white can hold ?my? strength and no white can hold ?my? beauty.
They are mine and forever will be.
My soul is deep and my heart is pure. I shall not be condemed to this life no more.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
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