teen

Lonely In A Dark Room

Folder: 
Trapped

I collide with my dreams in a dark gloomy night,
All its premises getting wider and darker,
Wearing my sleep and falling to my nuisance,
Wearied my eyes along with my greatest fear,
My brain freezed and fails to interpret its sensations,
I rolled to one side to another,
Yet confusions spoked with its creepy voice,
I listened to the knockings on my windows,
Holding my heart as i call for protection to my Master,
I prayed yet my eyes failed to participate,
They crawled to one corner to the next,
Forming images before my presence,
I cried,
Yet my tears were clouded by fear,
There i was frozen from head to toe,
Lying helplessely on my bed,
My waterfall crawled like a piece of dirt wandering the street,
My senses broked yet the mess is already have been done,
Was i been saved from the hunger of the unraveling thirst of nightmares?
©19 July 2017 - South Africa

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tags:

Glimpse Of Heaven

There was time i fell something sneaking to my heart,

Drawing closer and closer,

I looked and admired the view though my feet dares not to move,

I tried to escape but fear was all over me,

My lips could barely move,

Obsession took all my might,

I started with words,

Puzzled by your voice,

My pride was all shuttered in vain,

Driving me insane with your eyes that shelters my heart,

You planted smiles to my heart,

Encourage my breath to weaken before you,

And fear began stronger,

Yet you whitened all my rivers with the structure of your beauty,

And lie me belovedly with the essence of my admirations.

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tags:

Kenopsia

Folder: 
To Be Illustrated

"Almost tiring,

the bump of the shoulders passing by,

the hallways so full of students, mean, 

their intentions unknown to what they vie. 

 

But the Janitor, 

mop handle twisting in wrists, 

cleans the bustling halls, murder

of the sparkling floors committed with fervor.

 

Moreover, the students don't care!

But no matter, the Janitor smiles as he cleans,

leaning on his swab bucket, no flair

for how unfair redoing the swab job is.

 

But now it is after five,

the older gentleman is working his way up and down,

the passageways now empty, 

all the students long gone home. 

 

Quite the opposite scene,

from when the school was full,

a loud and swarming event, specifcally

during the lunch periods. 

 

And during those times? While constantly 

going back and forth, picking up spills

and keeping the floor clean,

he even feels grumpy.

 

But only now at this momement,

a longing, a forlorn feeling wraps itself

over the un-bumped shoulders of the man,

alone, doing his job.

 

The sudden wish the students were there,

to fill the empty space he cleans, 

the abandoned place to fill up soon,

but not a moment too late, he steams.

 

All the moments that he's spent,

breaking up a fight between two boys,

frankly taking both collars in each hand

and talking to them sharply, they listened.

 

The time he talked to the crying girl,

leaning on the mop handle, wise counsel

spewed at a comforting rate to the young one

who had her first broken heart. 

 

Or the time he tutored the troubled youth,

not in math or english but in life,

the boy sticking around while he cleaned. 

alone, his only brother having been knifed. 

 

Every smile he evoked,

with silly, word-play jokes,

every time he snapped at young students passing by, 

keeping the rowdy in line. 

 

The old man now smiled himself,

finishing up the entire school,

looking forward to the bustle to come,

the lockers that will slam, voices, loud.

 

The end of this feeling, eerie,

sudden, and no more farther then

when he will grumble, with a slight smile,

of the busy hallways where he will be bumped again."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A imagined scene of an old man janitor that we may or may not all remember or think back to.

Five Year Journey

The weather is well

The sky is blue

The day anew

The little birds wake and sing

We wake because our alarms ring

I can’t tell

If that was the screams in my head or

The school bell

I’m inside

Inside again

Inside myself

Translation of my ideas, I’m deaf

Sympathetic to several causes

Seemingly smart with scarce solutions

Often imagining the future

Taking the high way in the maze of life

Road block

Stagnated, frustrated

Angst

Initially, but it evolved courageously

It’s hard to understand ourselves

Time is the patron of change

 

Now that I get it

Or

That I think I get it

I’d like to rewind

And restart the picture I painted

Purify the person I tainted

Use the colors that I wish I used

My eyes see nothing new, I’m unamused

Now there’s nowhere to memorize just open your mind

Analyze every line

Because all the world’s a stage

Regressed to Illiteracy 

In my book I can’t seem to turn the page 

Learning till the day I die

Consumption of corruption because it’s easy

 

Though,

Our interests are mutual

Alone like my daily ritual

Instant satisfaction

Failing to ponder and think critically

Why don’t we ask why

By social stigma we act cynically

To me my shadow is colorful

Full

The feeling we search for

Push and pull

Two sides seen by only two eyes

Left & right, black & white

Understanding is out of sight

Success

Maybe

I might

Still figuring it out

 

Silence kisses my lips

Only talking when we take sips

Beats my heart skips

My conscious flows in the veins of my eyes

My tongue is red like my lies

Tarnished are my teeth and my thoughts

And without purpose my soul rots

The human hand is the door knob to a person

But my hands are locked in fists

Wrinkles in our palms

The fleshy manifestation of our route through life

Legs like ruined Roman columns

Glory with revitalization

Destruction with mistreatment

Only if he comes to a sooner realization

He’ll become a traitor of stag-nation

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first written poem. The title simply signifies the teenage years and I feel as if it really dug deep into my 17 year old head. Please tell me what you thought of it.

Mortal Angel

Folder: 
Light and Dark

They think I’m an angel

And they’re right, I guess

A fallen being of light

Now just a shadow of former glory

 

I gave my immortality

To the mortal I loved

And she threw it away

Without second thought

 

I can no longer fly

I try to repair these torn off wings

With the broken pieces of wedding rings

 

As the air around me turns to ash

Ashes to ashes and from ash to dust

Is this what mortality is like?

Is this the ravages of time on me?

 

But with my death, I find life

With my mortality, I enter the immortal

 

For Death, is only the beginning.

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Decisions

Living a life im not proud of leading, yet I still remain here, never have I though about leaving. Support you I will, even though what I do doesnt show what I feel. I dont think we would make it, and I hate having to fake it. But this is what we made, what we created. There werent no mistakes, there was just some bad choices, thats why we must follow through with this, and not ignore quiet voices. We will fight together, because its what we chose, but there will be no fairy tale, there will be no prose. Decisions were made without considering, and life will be lived without ever remembering.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about lust, and pregnancy. But about commitment and hate. Take the message how you want it. It can have many meanings. Please comment with what you think.

If and When

Folder: 
The Drabble Ditch

If and When

 

There's a sea, a city, then her,

All waiting for home and a happy place,

Each caved by impatience, importance and imperfection

That they're sick of waiting, and yet

There's hope there, I hope.

Although there's fear there, I fear.

A fear that hope is too far away

And a hope that fear will be far enough away,

Fear is bitter fruit, so let's not.

Hope is a well-thumbed book and we can,

It's a plan, or a laugh or a song, or a day

Without eyes, just words and a laugh.

You're waiting for a day to say "I deserve it"

But it isn't the bones and the pain and the hate that you need,

 

It's a boat across the sea to the city. 

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I’m Not A Daddy’s Girl

June 20, 2010
By Taylor Springs

you refused to hold me
or even take my hand
wipe away a tear
why couldn't you do that?
Momma says you left
when I was two or three
I don't remember you
do you, remember me?
I'm really growing now
and doing pretty good
I still don't understand you
and I don't, wish I could
Some kids, say they love him
and they call him Dad
how am I supposed to love,
what I never had?
other kids
have memories
with their dear, old dad
how am I supposed to know,
without even a photograph?
Special day
to let you know
what you mean to me
you don't mean a lot
needless to say
you gave up
and left behind
what could have been
your life
I wish you had chosen
another life
another route
another way
think about
who you could be today
you could have a family
full of laughter and love
but most importantly
you could have me
and I, could have a daddy
but you didn't
and I don't
wish I could say hello
Hi, Dad
but it's kind of hard
when you don't
pick up the phone
do you know it's me?
Is that why, you let it ring?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this poem on Fathers Day 2010, at age 13. I read this poem as well as a speech in front of 1,200 on March 16, 2011. Enjoy!

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A Families Cry for Justice...#TrayvonMartin

Folder: 
Free Flow

Excuse me for a second
While i catch my breath
Our son is dead
Shot down in the street
For wearing a hoodie
And being a young black man
Are you telling me
He dont deserve justice

Who was he hurting?
No one!
What crime was he committing?
None!
Being black is not a crime
So why is our son laying dead

I can still hear his screams
Just as you heard them
As he screamed for help
You looked him dead in the eye
And then you shot him
You took away our hero
Did you think we were just going to let that go

Trayvon risked his life to save his father's
From a burning house
Where he could have easily died
But God spared him
Only to have you
A racist muther f#$%
To come along and snatch our child's life
From him like a thief in the night

May God have mercy on your soul
But we will not go quietly
So hear our voices sing
Justice for Trayvon Martin
Gunned down for being black
You will not rest in peace
Justice must be served
Our son did not die for nothing
Trust me
The world sees you George
We know what you did
Why do you think the sheriff
Stepped down
Because he sees your guilty frown
Justice will be served

You can't hide for ever
Because you conscious
Is you judge
And i hope it make you pay the ultimate price
Save us all the trouble
Just pull the damn trigger George
Because you could have
Spared us the grief of loosing our son
We want go away Quietly
His cry will not be silenced
He begged for his life
Now we are begging for Justice

Racism is a reality
Our black men live with daily
Beaten down like a dog in the street
Why do they keep doing this Shit?
What is it that scare them so much?
About a black man,
His skin color
Or your ignorance
Of thinking that we all cause trouble

We live and learn to adjust to your cultures
We educate ourselves and our children
So that we can have a better chance of living
But what good does it do if all you see is skin color
Blinded by your fears and assumptions
Watch us closely as we rally together
Standing in line screaming for Justice
Trayvon we heard your screams
They want go away quietly
We will continue to fight
Justice for Trayvon Martian

Lord hear my cry
Cause I saw the hurt in his mother's eyes
Overwhelmed with pain and disbelief
To hear her young son's screams
For help..
They don't go unheard
My heart goes out to your family
As I scream Loud & Proud
Justice for Trayvon Martin

(c) 2012 Cassandra Evolutionsofpoetry Covington

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(note: These are not the personal views of Trayvon Martin’s family, I was compiled to write something after watching the Anderson show today)