My World. (Cynical vs. Hopeful)

I live in a world where you may die if you don't run.

Where even when alone you must trust no one.

In my world each day may hold your doom,

Where life is always terrifying without protection from the womb.


I live in a world of beauty that shines like the sun,

Where troubles cannot touch a life until it is done.

In my world love flourishes like a flower in bloom,

Where ideas settle on the tip of your tongue, an.d where greatness looms


I live in a world covered in blood and despair,

Children murdering mothers, and vice versa, without a care.

In my world gunshots are the fireworks of everyday,

Where we fear the unknown, and yet we cannot seem to stay away.


I live in a world where babies laughter spreads everywhere,

Where peace is the only solution with so much love in the air.

In my world we believe no one tells lies and believe what they say,

Where our world is one of colors not Fifty Shades of Gray.


I live in a world where homes are engulfed by flame,

Where a child may die before it can say its own name.

In my world people tell lies and shout out blasphemy,

Where more pain and hunger claim the earth than the eye can see.


I live in a world where hope is there and everyone is the same,

Where people have nothing but fun and life is like a game.

In my world the bird hums the chorus, and the wind picks up the melody,

Where nothing bad can hurt me except the stinging of a Honey Bee.




















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Some girls are talking,

I walk up to them,
Just to say hi.
They ignore me. Again.
Why do they hate me?
I remember.
I am not one of them.
The clones.
I want to be my own person.
At the beginning of the school year,
We read a poem.
And wEeDs.
I guess everyone else IS a FLOWER.
And I guess I am a wEeD.
A lowly wEeD, who no one wants to talk to.
Because I am different.
Why do people become clones?
Because when a person chooses to become a FLOWER,
They lose themselves in the process.
Their former personality is never to return,
Only to be replaced with a metallic voice,
A cold soul,
And dyed hair to match.
Sure, you girls find love early on.
In high school.
But the wEeDs will win.
At least in the end.
Because WE will be the ones who have friends,
When we get out of the colleges,
That YOU never got accepted to.
Because our soul is still there.
Just because you are alive,
Does not make you more special
Than me.
Or the other wEeDs.
We will be the special ones,
Later in life.
And you will be the one.
Who is hoping for more.
Just like we were.
When you taunted us.
For being different.
For being wEeDs.
You just want more of yourself.
Strength in numbers,
Am I right?
Only you can decide.
You want an army,
To intimidate us,
Go on.
Try to intimidate me.
Because I will forever stay,
A wEeD.
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Okay, so, I kinda forgot title of the power I wrote about, but the poem mentioned belongs to the author. Oh wow. A poem mentioned inside a poem. Yo dawg...

Almost Forever

Letters To Andy

I cannot say forever,
Since I haven't dealt
with tomorrow.
So, it's been too long,
Too unbearable
That I haven't seen you
In almost forever.
And after tomorrow,
I'll say I know what
Feels like,
But the next day is
The pain is also
My heart cannot withhold
The screams for help,
Because heartbreak hurts
For almost forever.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just another Letter for Andy. I haven't seen him in far too long. And I have no idea when, or if I'll see him again.

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My Angel behind the Glass

Have you seen my angel from behind the glass?
As she weeps her tears turn to liquid diamonds.
Amazing is that her sorrow can be seen by the blind.
I reach out and touch the cold surface of that glass,
Where our two hands would hopefully meet.
There seems to be another obstacle to block our love.
No words could describe the anguish felt.
To be so close, yet so far
and from the heavens my angel tripped and fell.

Welcome everyone to the freak show,
The mindless, psychotic horror show.
Where every nightmare is made real,
stepping into a reality only I knew,
stepping into the side show attraction.
The rejected, outcast of society.
Step through the curtain let your imagination take flight.
For there is a fallen angel behind the glass
and there before you is your better half.

The room grows quiet as hecklers make their remarks
judging those whom they do not even know.
I have shed my fair share of tears,
known pain, suffering and even sorrow.
I still look for that bright spot on what will become tomorrow.
As the lights come back on,
my angel behind the glass is now gone.
To the heavens, no one will know.
Just to be by her side is where I would go.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is actually a revised version of an older poem I had wrote yet never published. I've been feeling really depressed here lately (always do near my birthday) So I figured it was a good time to release this one. As you may notice its not usually my style. and does not rhyme (is there a name for poetry like that? hahaha)


I’m always here for you
When you’ve done something stupid
I always come to you
And enslave you like you deserve
Who are you to do that
Who are you to say that
You are nothing
You are useless
You aren’t special
You’re worthless

Stay under my cloud
As I rain your stupid decisions before your eyes
Why are you so stupid
Why didn’t you see that coming
Why didn’t you change that when you could’ve
You should’ve
Drown in your pitiful life
You cannot escape

I’ll never let you go
I’ll never let you win
Die little brat

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I can be gone just as quick.
Catch me in the light in the dark.
Catch me quickly, catch me slowly.
Hide and seek find me.
Chase me around all over the place.
Wait for me to come home instead.
See what happens when I'm dead inside your head.
Let me let go of this pain.
Let me let go of this fake.
Let me let go of this world.
Let me find another way.
I can be gone just as quick.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wish I didn't have the knowledge to write this poem. Its sad.

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The Idle Merchant

Bathed in the flexing air of the mid-afternoon's heat,
a merchant plodded forward beneath the bulging of his wares.
He struggled with his footing and knew only gravel here;
not quite roads, nor paths - hardly a place fit for man,
even one such as he, who'd seen so many things, and been
so many places. There were no beasts for carried burdens,
no grunts to pave his waywardness and
no government for bumbling or posting of the signs.
And lo, this poor man's trader had no value for those so few
who'd seen his candor, pulling forward, crossing desert strands.
He'd only found and peddled thus these trinkets, worn and 'bused,
that called upon their darkest thoughts and turned them inward, soundless.
Politely they, with softest tone, deny his offered purchase -
subjected to, as departed, his deepening despair.
He thins as he's embroiled in the innards of the landscape;
dripping sweat and leaking blood with every flicking pebble thrown.
With no curses for the terrain on tongue, he goes,
searching for the customers he so desperately desires,
subsisting on the cast offs of the buzzards dwelt above.
He dreams of stretches, level ground, that do not harm his toes,
but continues on, through pointlessness,
as pointlessness is all he's ever known.

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i'm locked into a battle with my own head.
the pain hides beneath my skull.
it pounds upon my brain with no mercy at all.
my eyes close to shut out the light.
i pray to God to help me with this fight.

i wake up hot and sweaty.
it is not the good kind.
the scent of illness lingers upon my flesh.
my fever burns me from the inside out.
i worry about the day ahead.
how am i to function this way?

i take a cold shower hoping to lower the heat of my skin.
i think i see steam coming off of my body.
i take the necessary medications.
i hope they are able to tame the monster in my head.
my body is till hot to the touch.
i curl up on my couch and cry praying for darkness.

i fall into a deep drug induced sleep.
my dreams are hazy, disturbed, and brief.
i awake to a sound of a horn.
the dog licks the salt from the tracks of my tears.
i slept two hours, but my brain still throbs.
the migraine is winning the war.

it takes all my remaining strength to get up.
i stumble to the sink to get some water to drink.
the days are longer when the pain is stronger.
i'm overwhelmed from this attack.
i manage to get upstairs and collapse.

i lie there staring at the wall.
the migraine is strangling my brain.
i close my eyes and try to focus.
i utter one sentence, God help me!
finally, i drift away into the solace of sleep.

it's 2am now and i have awoken feeling better.
i take another cold shower.
the fever is gone, but the migraine desperately hangs on.
the pain is now dull.
it is a welcomed change.

i thank God for the relief.
i can see the light at the end of this excruciating tunnel.
i smile a little bit at myself in the mirror.
my migraines and i have a long ugly history.

it's not my friend, but a bitter enemy.
one day i had hoped to be free of them.
the years have showed me otherwise.
i know now they come and go as they damn well please!

The End


The days are long and the nights as well.
Each minute I'm alone is an hour in hell.
I can't break free of the torment within.
I admit I've tried and know not where to begin.
I fight each day to hold onto life.
But am falling short in my present strife.
Fear not for one day I will rise again.
But first I must meet the end.