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!
random poem of fate
I was just a young boy
To the leaders of Traction
I am a witness to your love in action
love that embraces
transcending cultures and races
creating safe spaces
for young faces
of those who are hungry
no matter what the cost
I am a witness to love in action
displayed by the leaders of Traction
starting a chain reaction
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
true, honest agape’-love
To the leaders of Traction
I am a witness of your love in action
(c) Elizabeth Herr, 2016
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
"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."
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 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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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?
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