Dec 09
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Sitting next to you in the bus.
She's on the inside,
you're on the outside.
It reminds her of all those good times.

You're talking to the others,
your back to her.
Laughing with them,
taking selfies,
doing things that she will never,
and could never do.
She thinks about this,
fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist.
'Its not your fault everyone likes you.
Its not your fault no one likes me.
Its not your fault that eventually, you too will abandon me'

Looking out the window,
the first snow of the season covers the ground.
The sight fills her with longing
as memories of last winter 
flood her head.
Each one is like a knife slicing through her heart,
reopening wounds she tried so hard 
to close.

She feels the tears start to build
but she holds them at bay.
After all, there is no point in wishing
Dec 08
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Blue Eyes

Some eyes are the color of faded denim,
some are shades of the sky on a clear summer day.
Some eyes are the color of the ocean during a storm,
some are the color of an old Ford pickup sitting in an old man's yard.
Some eyes are the color of a winter sky combined with budding spring leaves.
And some eyes are the color of a bluebird's out spread wings.
But your eyes are a shade of blue so pure and raw like an uncut diamond,
no words will ever be able to capture their beauty.

*Should I add on to this poem (I do have ideas)? Or should I leave it just the way it is? Comment please!!!*
Dec 08
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Forget: a rant at 8pm

All I want to do is forget.
All I want to do is take a break from
all this regret.
All I want to do is be an
irresponsible, reckless and impulsive
teenager for once.
All I want to do is get rid of all this
common-sense for a day
and give in, doing things my way-
even if that way is wrong.
All I want to do is have a day
where I all these failures and burdens I carry,
disappear to some place far, far away.
Nov 26
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Nov 19
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I want to pretend

Nov 13
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You are trapped in a cage.
No one sees it.
Not even you.

You don't know what its made of,
you don't know where it came from,
but you feel it.
Its all around you,
encompassing you in strength
that forbids you to move freely.

It seperates you from reality,
and it strangles you with your thoughts.
You have been robbed,
but you don't know what was taken.
You're in a place,
but you don't know where you're heading
or even how you got there.

You know you've been through a lot,
but your memories are distorted,
all mixed up like a puzzel before
it's pieced together.

It's seizing you little by little.
You can't stay,
but you can't go.
You are trapped,
but no one sees it.
Nov 12
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He was my friend.
The truest of true.
He didn't care if I was nervous
and had problems that other kids didn't.
He was my friend, when I had none.

He didn't care when I cried.
He was my friend, and he didn't shun.
He didn't care when I vented.
He was my friend, and that's said and done.
He didn't care if I was quiet, or loud.

He was my friend,
and now....
he's gone.
Nov 12
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Watching you take the spotlight,
is driving me insane.
Your fake voice and fake frown,
you're just talking in vain.
Stabbing all the victims in the back,
you're make all those people crack.

You thrive in being the center of attention.
Stop acting like you're hurting,
like you're not alive.
If you don't stop, you'll witness our screams.
If you think you'll recieve an apology,
it's in your dreams
Nov 12
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Remember Her

Do you remember her?
The girl who was loud,
the girl who smiled.
The girl who knew everything.

Do you remember when she
stopped being loud,
and stopped smiling-
stopped caring about herself?

Do you remember when she came to school
with nails scabbed and bitten to the quick?
Remember the bags under her eyes
and how broken she looked?

Do you remember when she said
she will die one day,
and how everyone laughed
and shrugged it off?

Do you remember when she was 
on social media and the news?
Do you remember when the 
principal came and 
made you pay your respects?

Do you remember her?
Because I do.
Nov 06
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Las Casas

Explorers who explore,
to conquer and for greed.
For their country's king or queen,
whose intentions aren't exactly
what they seem.

They walk onto the land,
leaving shoe prints on the ground.
Pretending to come in peace
and good faith,
to those all around.
But the minute the Indians
turn their backs, let down their guard,
they are shackled into slaves,
with no hope of being saved.

Though they were selfless,
fair and willing to trade,
they were treated like rabid dogs,
and the shackles never came off.

But there was one man,
Las Casas was his name.
His heart was different from the rest,
for he understood that the Indians
onky killed the Spaniards because 
they were being attacked.

He saw the Indians for the 
people that they were.
Not savages,
not barbarians.
Not dogs,
nor murderers.