Not let it win!

                  Not let it win!  

 The memories roll in like a wave that hits the shore

Going back and forth filling your head till it’s sore

Why can’t I let go of the memories that are under my skin

Family tells me to let it go, to forget and not let it win

Life was supposed to be fun when I was a small girl of ten

But it was a nightmare to which happened over and over again

In school I was bullied i said not a word and kept my sorrow within

I prayed for it to stop and leave me alone and not let it win

Then all grown up and married to a monster who didn’t even care

He hit me for years and wouldn’t never stop till It was too much to bare

To have the will to keep moving forward and not just give up and give in

It will be my dream come true for a happy tomorrow to not let it win    


Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm always saying to myself don't give up keep on going, there are days where i just want to give in but by doing that i fear i will let IT win and im to stubborn to do that lol


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Solitary night

Solitary night
tears of dissatisfaction
choking on memories
a torrent as the dark presses in
Searching, seeking
the long-awaited slumber
of each miserable, useless regret of yesterday
Yet, afraid to face the uncertainty of tomorrow

Release Me


I have wasted

My time

My energy

My breath on you


I have gotten



Loneliness from you


You have fooled me

Put a veil over my eyes

Tricked me

Into loving you


You have taken, everything

My heart

My body

My mind from me



I love you 

I crave you

I yearn for you


Where is there reason,

When love is involved?

Where is reality,

When emotions run wild?


I would ask

But there is no answer

You leave me in silence

To stand on my own

I long to crumble

Fall into pieces

Cry to the heavens

Cry out to you


Never will you be

Mine own heart

Mine own soul

Or any part

Of mine own being


So… let me go

Set me free

Open your palms

And release me



Author's Notes/Comments: 


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By jfarrell


Stained coffee mugs and frayed shirts;

Dusty unread books on an undusted shelf;

Wallpaper peeling where the rain comes through;

These are the dog-ends of my life.


Detritus, clutter builds up around me, unseen;

A forgotten CD here, a photo I forgot to burn there;

A lifetime of junk builds up;

And I live amongst these dog-ends.


And now, like the most desperate of smokers,

I must break these dog-ends and build a new one to smoke;

A new life to live;

From the ashes of my dog-ends a dragon will arise.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

my life is an ashtray

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Back to back the night replays, 

Sitting here with a bottle called decay


And we’ve got the depression scented incense 

Sitting in a circle, wondering why it makes no kind of sense

Why I'm dwindling to live or live and suffer on the fence


I got fed up and left the room 

Went outside, tried to escape all that gloom

But what I found next was even worse, just rumors of doom


I visited this house I called home, but I’m not on the lease,

It all sounds so familiar, got the corpse of me laying there on center of the floor while you feast 

Got it displayed over there like an art piece 

Act like it was the true me, as if I was already deceased


But I’m still here, on the same broken couch, still sitting here 

You ignore me, go on, take another beer

Am I invisible? Do I not exist to you!?

Every part of me, debatable, divisible, that’s what you called only true.

I just want to find a breakthrough

And just like you, it never mattered, no matter what I do.

Just like you, 


It feels like an eternity since I left, I never cared to say goodbye 

All these broken objects still here, and I never understood why

But as I grew up, I know now, I know, it’s how you expressed to cry
The broken objects are a physical mental wall you built to hide
Broken and unwanted, justlike you,now I know, throwing it out was hard to decide


But you didn’t wanna outright say

You felt your own blood was a source of your betray

Leave the family, it’s better, leave them astray

Let her stay there, let her lay 

With all her demons she keeps at bay


I know now, your mind


Dementia kissed you on the cheek and made us her kind

And like you I met her too, I became contaminated 

We are only moved by the broken blinds

Forever Unanimated 


You worship this building and every hole in the wall

Hide insecurity, and all that was spoken, ignore another call.

Put duct tape over the mess, and defend it all 

I wanted to ask, when did you begin this journey just to fall? 



I should leave before the sickness drives me mad

And just like you I close the door 

Until next time, dad

I close the door, and leave the past on the broken, dirty floor.

But unlike you, I must defeat what you couldn’t

The thing like me that you always avoid, the tainted inner core



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My Old Playground


As I walk through my old playground, my safe haven I see how much everything has changed, yet there is so much familiarity it's almost as if not all has changed that much. 
I find myself longing for the times that I spent there with those I loved and loved me.
When I close my eyes, I see the little girl who would run and chase lightening bugs with her cousins.
The same girl who would grow up and walk the railroad tracks and learned how to get good at catching the ball with her dad.
Before I know it I see the young girl turning into a woman and hear her laughing with those she held close to her heart. 
Not only do I hear the laughter of love, I hear my grandmother talking and my daddy telling another one of his famous tales and seeing a mischievous grin on his face when he realized he had all convinced on whatever it might be.
I smile myself and let the memories wash over me as it fills my heart with joy and love.
I know when I open them I will see and hear my family that holds my heart. 
I am eager to see their smiling faces and feel their warm embrace for its been to long. 
I open my eyes and I feel my heartbreak into million little
The house is run down, the grass hasn't been cut, no more rocking chairs, no sweet voices calling my name, no more games or smiles, no more joyous laughs and jokes.
For everything and everyone I loved is gone.
All I have left is a sad heart full of memories. 
My playground is gone. 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

I went back home to Kentucky a few years ago and as always had to pass the place I had spent most of my childhood. The previous trip back home, my aunt had lived there, however when I returned she had moved and the place looked like no one had lived there in ages. As I was led around the place, I could see and hear sounds of my youth. It was a grim reminder that you can never go back home. 

Running after memories


What is so special about this?

I mean writing poetry? 

Every day sending it to different strangers.

All over the globe and to unknown readers. 


The truth is that I met someone on that day.

That is why I write every day of my life.

To seek refuge and grace at the same.

Pardon for every day mistakes. 


To ask for forgiveness. 

When I chose my career over our relationship. 

Apologies for each daily mistakes that could be taken back.

To say sorry when I hurt her and did have the guts to own up to the problem. 

Most of all to ask forgiveness when I brought woman to her house for my own entertainment.


To beg mercy when she was praying for my protection and safety in was busy lying with another woman.

To plead for a second chance for my in maturity. 

I want to say sorry when I forgot to tell her how much I loved her.... 

Assuming me that she will remain with me for eternity. 

But I was totally wrong.

When she passed away in lost all that time.


That why wise people usually say the time is now!

I'f you want to love do it now!

If you want forgiveness ask it now!

If you want a relationship go for it now!

Or else you will sing "in my time" and find your self regretting you missed chances. 

To all you people out there in a relationship, call or send a message to your partner tell her how much you love them.

To all of you wanting to have someone in your love pray about it and have patience about it.

You don't want to rush into something  after getting married. 

Then true love knocks at your door.


Cause there is no love that begins after marriage. 

Love starts right now and it never ends.

When last did you utter the words 'I love you'

Cause all I have now is memories. 

Running after them like an antlete.

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Light and Dark

Sometimes I hear the ghosts of my past

Often they whisper in my ear

Just out of consciousness

Barely audible, but present


Memories of those gone by

Now immortal in my mind

Forever they'll exist in me

Or at least as long as I live


For we are scars on the membrane of time

Carving our existence deep into it's flesh

Dying to gain immortality

Our existence tantamount to the memories of others



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A smell in mind


A smell in mind


Coffee was an important part of my teacher’s day. No matter where you went, you could always see a big coffee mug with her name on it, quite literally. Be it a warm day, rainy day, a cold day or any day at all, you could always count on going to class and getting hit with the scent of coffee wafting through the room. She’d be late to classes sometimes, getting her coffee first. There needn’t be any sugar or creamer, all it took was a mug and coffee time was on. When life was tough, coffee was the one thing that kept her holding on to dear life. Through the various trips, the school visits, our concert trips to Austin and Mexico City, the coffee was there. A single coffee and breakfast was the reason why we missed our flight the first time. Even when we were at the airport, we had to had coffee. It was like a religion, drinking coffee every day. Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts, Krispy Kreme, Cinnabon, the brand wasn’t important, even if it was too big of a pay. A thing that made her happy was when people brought her coffee. It would instantly brighten up her day, even if they got the complete order wrong. “Coffee is coffee and my day isn’t complete without coffee,” she would say every day. Be warned, though, that the day she hadn’t had coffee, she could either love you or kill you. How can I forget about that mug in the front of the classroom, standing on a desk where she had been sitting, steaming the whole class, filling up the room with a small that will be unmistakable to me until the day I’m gone? On particularly cold days, she’d even bring a refill or send one of us to get it. The more I think about it, the less I can imagine her without a coffee mug or without drinking coffee for a full day. She used to joke about it being the center of her life, the defining factor in the day. Forget clothes, when her birthday was around, all of her students would be looking for crazy colorful mugs!  How can I enter a coffee shop and not think about the strong coffee smell that had so long ago permeated my mind? Alas, I cannot drink a cup of coffee without thinking about how much she’d love to have the same type of coffee too!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This short prose poem talks about my teacher and the memories I have of her and her coffee.

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