Category Poems
I live another day,
adding to the potential years,
of a life well lived,
so they say.
In the shadow of yesterday?
Will they say this upon the grave?
Yet, that which was lost yesterday,
can be regained tomorrow,
again, so they say.
Do I understand?
Where is today?
The choice lays within,
the question mark of a new day.
That’s the chore,
That’s why so many therapists
And DFS coaches are in well-paid jobs.
It’s the not thinking
About a rape by a victim,
And the not thinking
Of a stranger’s greasy hands
All over your front hall.
Knowing that nothing in your life is real?
The world, and you, are just so fake,
How does it feel to be something that you hate?
Wake up and dread your existence,
(I know you do)
Burn all bridges to create some distance,
(Life’s hard to get through)
The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.
Of populous populations,
Supply is often halted beyond the womb
And should a child make it
To the densely packed production line,
There are no lifetime guarantees
No best before, or after birthday dates
Supply outcries demand.
But demand increases should you move
Within the factory floor,
Be placed onto the packaged line
“First World”
Or stamped and wrapped:
“For Family Wealth”
Dear Mr Cameron, please help me do
You see I’m really struggling at the hands of you
You’ve taken all my money, my pride, and dignity
Leave me to wallow in a pit of poverty
I’m trying to swim through quicksand
With sand bags on my back
But the punishments relentless
What should I be sorry for?
The moon doesn’t apologize for causing the
rise and fall of the tides.
Why should I?
Just because you don’t water your own flowers,
doesn’t mean you get to stomp on mine.
I won’t let you crush what it took me years to grow.
Instead of hurting mine, tend to your own.
Maybe your garden can grow too.
That my head is too far up in the
clouds to watch where I’m walking.
is the first day of the rest of your life
Tomorrow is an adventure in the making
Yesterday is a memory of
a moment we cannot return to
Even if we wanted
What’s done is done
All we can do is learn to accept it and
move forward graciously
Time waits for no man
And no man achieves by waiting
but not the same lungs
hold the same blood
but speak different tongues
we cry the same tears
and wash the same pains
but we are not one
and yet here we remain.
in a boiling sea.
Moments
of a coiling me.
Roots finding no soil
A mind lingers in turmoil
An endless journey
Unable to flee
They come out as whispers and rolled eyes
I blink, and a rose blooms but no one notices
I hum, and life is found on a new planet
A melody is created but they only see me walk
They see my curves but not my angles
