Jun 12

The Tree

The tree,
a beautiful maple,
branches stretching towards the sun,
leaves that dance in the wind.

I couldn't see the top.
The beautiful brown bark
could be followed
to higher than anyone could go.

I had seen this tree before.
It was familiar.
Yes. I had seen it.
No recently...
but where?

There was an irrisistable urge to climb.
To reach the top.

I grabbed the nearest branch,
and started making my way,
branch after branch.
Many nights, many days.
Many years, many months.
Yet still,
I could not reach the top.
I couldn't even see it.

I climbed until my hands bled
and my arms and legs felt as if
they were bound to break at any moment.
I still could not reach the top.

I climbed
until I couldn't climb any higher.
I climbed
until I dropped from the tree.
Branches rushed by.
Days rushed by.
Jun 12

i am scared

i'm scared
that i will see our world in the future
as nothing more than ash and scattered carcasses
of those who gave up.
and i am right in the center,
another of billions,
another who gave up.
and i'm scared
because we're drawing dangerously close to
choosing to let go.
give up.

i'm scared
that i'll never be able to see my dream as a reality,
because every flicker that i may glimpse
will be distroyed by another
who dosn't give a damn.
and returns to their own separate life
oblivious to any pain or grief caused.
because when i try to share my dream,
you choose to regard it as nothing,
and return to thinking that
just because you are our "leader"
we can't change the world ourselves.

i'm scared
that my opinions
won't be taken seriously.
or tossed away
because i'm a child
and children should be seen,
not heard.
May 28

Summer Travel

May 28

hidden messages

among those jumbled thoughts
the endless ideas crammed down on the fewest pages possible,
one notebook or another,
the twisted plot of my narrative
or the rythmic poems i write...
there are hidden messages.

a warning-
a disguised true story-
a hint...
at anything really.

maybe i take a misleading route
to try to tell you how i really feel.

maybe i paint a picture of what we should be,
crying out for help, persuasion in every word.

maybe you need a little something that will lift your head,
something that will make you laugh,
something that reminds you i'm here.

maybe i have been taken
to a place far away...
beyond what's in front of us,
that inspires a message is underlying,
steady,
unreadable for some,
but still there.

with a drop of inspiration,
i hit the ground running,
and i build a new world...
May 10

i have to

They ask me if I'm ok,
and I have to tell them I'm fine.
Because they're my friends.
And they want to know.
But sometimes
I don't want to have to tell them the truth.

The truth is,
I don't know if everything's ok.
If my day hasn't been great,
does that mean something's seriously wrong?
If I have problems,
or I don't act like "myself"
does that mean you have to make it better for me?
does that mean I have to let you?
If I need some space,
will you be suspicious,
and press me even harder?

I just say
I'm ok.
Because
I have to.

If they ask me "what's going on?"
when I flare up at dinner over something tiny,
I tell them
nothing.
Because I honestly don't know.
Because I have to.

The truth is,
I honestly have no idea what is going on.
I don't know why I start yelling
or burst into tears for no particular reason.
May 07

Learn to live

Child,
they made my song falter,
and my roots break.
They squeezed out
the little hope and faith I had left.
They drowned me
in their words full of hate,
and their violence.

But child,
they built me up.
They worked me harder.
They taught me how to survive,
and gave me only what I needed.

Child,
I listened to their words of hate.
I let them have the love
that used to drive me forward.
I pushed myself below the surface.

Child,
I used the resources I was given for granted.
I rapidly took in everything they were willing to offer.
I made myself an empire,
with no thought of others.

Child,
I became a monster.
Please,
use the power you are given
to overcome the hate.
Stand strong.
Take what they have to offer,
but no more than you need.
Be mindful of every other human being in need.
Keep loving.
Apr 16

Dream

I wanted to run,
but they cut off my feet.

I wanted to sing,
but they silenced my voice.

I wanted to fly,
but they chained my wings.

I wanted to be happy,
but they injected me with a pale liquid that made my throat dry,
my head spin,
and my thoughts of nothing but terror and hate.

I wanted to create a better world,
but they chained them all,
and built a wall that kept them all away.

I wanted to be true,
but they cut out my heart and locked it away.

I wanted to be alive,
but they killed me,
along with anyone
who had ever had a dream.
 
Apr 09

Steady

Footsteps.
Sneakers pounding hard
onto the solid concrete.
Your hard breaths
create a rythm with these beats.
Up,
down.

Voice.
You don't feel strong,
but you sing clear,
and precisely.
The meaning behind these words
are anything but perfect,
or safe to say.
But when you listen,
you feel a sense of satisfactory.

Pulse.
You close your eyes.
You feel yourself relax.
You listen to your breath.
Consistent.
Inhale,
exhale.
Your chest rises,
then falls.
Your whole body is alive.
Pulsing with energy.
You can feel it.

Heartbeat.
Thump...
thump...
It is what gives you life.
To run.
To speak.
Thump...
thump...
it's comforting.
You can feel it
pumping energy into your veins.
Spreading throughout your body.

Thump...
thump...
you are at peace.
You are alive.
Apr 06

Ocean

Sort of the thing that you love just can't find the words to describe. This poem isn't perfect, but I love it anyway. I hope some can connect, that's all.

Salty sea air plays with my hair.
I wiggle my sinking toes in the soft,
almost theraputic feeling of sand.
I gaze out over the ocean.
Over the miles and miles of
somebody else's world.
Mostly undisturbed.

Sea spray coats my face.
I inhale sharply to find the destict,
salty,
wild scent.

I almost want to throw myself into the waves.
Under,
deep.
Where I can discover something greater
than my own same, exhausting, unfair, and inequal life.

I want to spread my arms,
and skim swiftly under the surface.

I want something different.
I want something
I love.
Apr 01

nothing at all

I scream at my parents.
They try to be reasonable,
although it's difficult.
I turn away.

I don't feel anything at all.

I push my sister away.
She starts to cry.
She starts coming towards me again,
wanting a hug
from a comforting source.
But I push her away again.

I don't feel anything at all.

I ignore my friends in school.
I am just feeling this way.
They talk to me.
They do everything like usual.
But they notice,
and leave me alone.
Like I want.

I don't feel anything at all.

I heard about the Maryland shooting.
Another one,
I think.
The shooter is the one that is killed.
Good.

I don't feel anything at all.

At least,
I think I don't.
Or maybe I just can't feel
what I usually have such strong opinions about.

I am numb.
I am in my own universe.

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