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death so easy

Sun, 12/08/2013 - 02:54 -- alsayad

I was just a young boy
And yea, I was black
Dressed in a certain way
Yea, u could say that
Sagged my pants a bit
Dark hoody for this cold day
But I didn't know how cold it would actually get..
Give one man power.. just a little bit
And he'd play God, start a fit
Let rounds burst
U don't know how it felt when they hit
Maybe thats y I wore a hoody
Keep my soul warm as the angels would get ready..
You know.. they say your last 7 seconds to live
You'd watch ur whole life pass u real quick
But it felt like hours every second of it
Your parents smiling just a scene of it
I had my moms arms around me inna tight grip
But the scenes would just slipp n slipp
U know u never forget!
I was just a cold body, death, laying in it
Looked my killer in the eyes I hope you never forget!

Poetry Slam: 

Comments

shatyraa

thats is greattttttttttttttt

alsayad

Thnk u !

To the Leaders of Traction

Sun, 04/03/2016 - 03:46 -- NZMummy

To the leaders of Traction

I am a witness to your love in action

                                    love exceptional 

                                             intentional

                                            unconditional 

                                            multi-dimensional

                                             unsinkable love

 

                                    love that embraces

                                            transcending cultures and races

                                            creating safe spaces

                                            for young faces

                                                    of those who are hungry

                                                                                thirsty

                                                                                empty

                                                                                hurting

                                                                                seeking

                                                                                and lost

                                                              no matter what the cost

 

I am a witness to love in action 

                  displayed by the leaders of Traction

                   starting a chain reaction

                            of caring

                                sharing

                                daring the youth to grow deeper in their faith

 

I am a witness to leaders who stand

                                      on mountains of prayer

                                      that underpins their deep, honest care

                                      the burden they share

                                      for our children to be aware

                                                                                    of God’s great love!

 

I am a witness to leaders’ hearts that are broken

                                            by secrets unspoken

                                                        to love unending

                                                        grace ever extending

                                                        no pretending 

                                                        true, honest agape’-love

 

To the leaders of Traction

I am a witness of your love in action 

(c) Elizabeth Herr, 2016

This poem is about: 
My community

Comments

Garcia-Ravens

Can I use your poem in a oratory competition? I made a remix.

Sunshine Sonnet

A summer's day is brightest of all

All the flowers have already bloomed

And the birds of paradise call

The storms of the past that loomed

With the wind they passed

Leaving behind a sunny day

The world gave us more than we asked

To enjoy with pleasure the buds of May

Drink the view with your eyes

For the beauty of nature shall never fade

The mysteries of the great blue skies

And the trees on the ground remain unswayed

Comments

A Self Imposed Middle Man in my Mind

Sat, 09/08/2018 - 02:59 -- Aegis

Location

07950
United States

"You know, no."

Can you imagine the power you'd feel as you said that?

Clear, simple, point blank: no.

A final word, irrefutable. maybe even understood.

A point driven home by waving on the paragraphs-

"Sorry folks, I'm staying! No."

No

 

Why do people hurt me? 

Why do lies come in disguise of pleasant truths I'd delightedly cry-

rays of light in hopeless dark

embers of heat given by this phony spark.

why can't I feel the fakeness? And shut it down?

Why do my words insensitively bow

Bow down to a hope that overrides my system

I strained for your truths in case I would miss 'em

I prayed for relief when I knew it wouldn't come

Being my tormentor is the way to be done

 

No. 

No more deciet, no more of your lies

No more of a light and reliable smile

I'm done with these feelings of goodness inside

I am done with these fake feelings of confidence and pride

No to your fantasies filling my mind

No to your words which all seem so kind.

No more of this lifestyle- waiting for love

No more of your pity and rhymes

I've had it enough times

 

Don't pick me up with lies and drop me with truth

Beat me senesless with plans, be relentless with my youth

Take all my problems and cut them out of me with this 

scalpel you carry and my thoughts I can't marry

destroy me of pain and suffereing hearts

fix me O healer, of my broken parts.

 

Comments

Power

            She looks up from the porcelain sink to see the reflection of a girl. Her face is drained of color and her lips tremble. She wipes at her mouth, trying to erase what she has just done. The reflection stares back at her with critical eyes. Those judgmental, icy blue eyes taunt her. They scream, “You will never be good enough!” “You are a waste of space!” “No one will ever love you!” Her eyes are like a funhouse mirror; for when she gazes upon herself all she sees is an obese, unattractive person. A silent tear slides down her cheek and she spins away from the mirror; no longer able to look at the image. She turns the faucet on to wash down the rest of what she ate and leaves the horrible tragedy behind her.

            There is power in acceptance. For if we are accepted by those around us, we feel loved, and love is all we search for in life, whether we are conscious of it or not.

            Her body is shrinking under her clothes and her family begins to worry. Although she denies, she cannot hide. She thinks she has control. She thinks she has power; power over her body to control what she looks like, but her power is slipping away with every step she takes down her destructive road. She can barely stand or think because she has lost so much weight, yet her peers relentlessly mock her. They laugh at her baggy clothes saying she is hiding a chubby body under the sweatshirts she wears constantly. She is overwhelmed by all the pressures and pains. She just needs a release, so tonight she will take her father’s razor because starving herself does not seem to end her suffering. She cannot see another way around this hell she has been living; she still has the power to end her suffering. She will take the razor in her hand and cut. As her life bleeds away, so does her power.

           Her parents will find her and weep for their lost daughter whose problems they did not know about. Her parents feel powerless; their grief and devastation consumes them; it eats away the dreams they had for their daughter, leaving them utterly alone. No parent wants to experience the immense pain and grief of losing their child, so they will utilize their power. They will make it known to the world that eating disorders kill; the problems behind the eating disorders can easily be solved. It doesn’t have to end the way it did for their daughter.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

savigirl14

Wow this is immensely powerful. Eating disorder destroy teen girls and guy. They take away any shred of self-confidence that they may have had. Don't fall victim to the tyrannous disorders known as bullemia and anorexia. Really good poem. Please read my poems and tell me what you think.

Bruised

He's bruised......

Not physically

But mentally.....No one has ever told him that he means a lot to them

Not his parents, his friends, or even teachers.

All that is ever said to him is how he's so "weird" or how people don't like him.

He feels so alone

Doesn't know where to turn, no one to talk to

No one to tell how he feels

He is never told how much he means to anyone

He's just made fun of.

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
My community

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Kennedy.F

This is for someone who is a lone at my school

Dandilion

I've seen my share of shooting stars

And wished upon every one

I've thrown a fortune into wishing wells

Let my wish fall to the bottom

I've huffed and puffed a hurricane's worth of air

Blowing the seeds of dandilions 

Eighteen years I've spent smothering the

Flame from one hundred and seventy one candles

With a lung full of wishes; every wish the same

Yet it seems

I will wish upon a thousand more shooting stars

Continue to throw a fortune into wishless wells

Let hope roll right off my lips

Onto the seeds of dandilions 

Blow the flame from another one hundred and seventy one candles

Until the day comes when

I am wishing upon shooting stars along with him

Throwing hopefilled pennies into the bottom of wishing wells

Picking wild dandilions, watching it carry

His hopes off into the wind

And blowing out a lifetime full of flames from candles

 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

The Struggle For Rights

Tied down by social restraints and

Never being able to have that tie with someone that they love.

Pushed back by other people’s chains,

Their wishes can never be answered and given to their beloved.

 

Religion attacks with Adam and Eve and

A community of people can point out that it’s just plain wrong.

Our society has made it the norm to point away from church’s and say harshly to leave

They won’t be able to hear the church bells, which symbolize marriage, bong.

 

We are supposed to be “the United” and yet we are so divided

Simply because of whom people choose to be with.

Never given the right to love and provide,

As if there wrapped by a particularly thorny withe.

 

We are all humans and we all need that connection towards a special someone.

Why are these rights restricted just for loving someone of the same gender?

Why is it so hard to believe that a woman may not be looking for a husband?

Due to something that isn’t anyone’s fault, they cannot enjoy their splendor.

 

Civil right movements have come and went and now a new one is here,

One where the silence rings in the ears of the ones affected.

Maybe one day the struggle for rights will disappear,

Maybe one day no one will look down on homosexuality as being “defective.”

 

Martin Luther King, Alice Paul, Ella Baker, Malcolm X,

All of these historic figures have had their share of the limelight and

A new age approaches where people will fight for their rights of preference and sex.

Now it is time for gays to come off of the sidelines.

 

This “issue” is so trivial that it should never have been a problem.

Being able to marry who you want is the one act of love that everyone should have a right to.

Not to be forced to remain silent and solemn

And not to be encased in the mood of the blues

 

If I dare say that I support this “sinful” act what would happen?

I stand up and I’m an avid supporter to this community that has been silent for too long.

The people who are believed to be “misshapen”,

And are not according to God’s song

 

If I could change one thing in this world

I would make it so the homosexual community was given their rights.

Everyone is human, we all have hearts that beat, but we are different in our whorls,

Then this will all crumble and we can finally live united and everyone can be intertwined.

Comments

Plus or Minus

7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000

atoms manifest to make me up 

Minus the food I used to purge

How many atoms am I now?

 

People don't know I'm a prozac-popping

Self-harm recovered, radiant teen.

20 millagrams, plus the 10 and 10 more I was prescribed.

Who really knows me? 

 

The brown haired bisexual that lives in my body

Used to bully and berate herself to near-death.

Plus the bulimia that scars my esophogus.

Why wasn't I happy?

 

Today being true is all I can be.

Three or four close friends, and family

Minus negative vibes and violent tendencies,

Where was this girl all these years? 

 

Comments

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This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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