Jan 24

forever young

forever young.
dandelions, feathers,
floating in the sky,
look up, sir,
we’re going high

forever young.
treated like children,
expected to be adults,
you’ve lived your life,
now let us live ours

forever young.
and we care about friends,
so what?
and we wanna have fun,
so what?

forever young.
blame us for drugs,
mock the drunk,
“get yourself together”,
well you never did.

forever young.
moody? no.
angry? never.
disappointed? yes.
stressed? always.

forever young
riots, mobs, protests,
danger, ire, rage,
bands, beer, parties
connotations, assumptions.

forever young.
wrote in your texts,
in your book,
flip the page,
just take a look

forever young.
rowdy teens, yes?
pointless, idiotic, yes?
maybe we’ve got something to say,
Jan 16

Tired

Yes, I see the sun. Nice.
No, I don’t feel its warmth.
Yes, I sense the wind. Cool.
No, I don’t take pleasure in the breeze.
Yes, I can see the view. Pretty.
No, I’m not delighted.

The green meadows and creaking swing,
they feel so fake,
someone else’s dream.
Where’s mine?

I can see the smiles people give me,
laugh at the messages from friends,
hum along to some music,
joke with my family.

A brief moment of happiness,
a bright shooting star.
Gone in an instant,
swallowed again by the unyielding darkness.

Distractions.
They don’t protect me from the ghost in my head,
drive off the clouds pouring tears of depression,
get rid of this thing draining the life out of me.

I’m so, so tired.
Of myself,
of the world,
of life.

I wish I could tell someone,
express myself.
Those counselors wearing bright smiles,
Dec 30
poem, humor challenge: Goodbye 2020

A New Year- a Tiny Writes Conversation

This is inspired by Treblemaker's post "Boop. A Tiny Writes Conversation". Also, I'm sorry for changing a little bit of the wording from the original text on Tiny Writes. I had to make it more "poetic".

A little "poem" of rhyming created on Tiny Writes as a "Goodbye!" to 2020:

It's almost the end of this horrific year!
I think this calls for lots of cheer!
Hurray! A new beginning is almost near,
let's jump into it without any fear!

Lot's of laughter – can't you hear?
And many smiles, not one tear!
Let all the misfortune disappear,
give a toast and raise your glass of beer!

Written by Roses, Treblemaker, Moonsand, Crescent_Moon, dogpoet and Mysticat.
Dec 23
poem challenge: 'Twas ...

'Twas the night before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas,
the height of holiday cheer,
spreading through paths of isthmus,
announcing the time of year.

People are bustling,
buying last-minute presents,
the children are a-hustling,
scaring all of the pheasants.

Red ribbons are strung high,
colors of newly blossomed heaths,
stark against the grey sky,
reflected by ornament wreaths.

Candles of warmth lit aflame,
placed above crackling hearth embers,
pictures leaning on their frame,
coming and going with all the Decembers.

Giggling children write their letters,
to a jolly old man, tonight,
asking for toys and a sweater,
or maybe a brave wooden knight.

Then all the parents will come in,
hang their coats on the wooden rack,
take off boots covering the shin,
placing them all in a stack.

Tuck their children in their beds,
whisper softly a “goodnight”.
Dec 17

The Seconds, They Tick By

Finally found the time to write a few Christmas poems XD. School applications are stressful.
______________________________________________________________________________

It’s Christmas,
who would’ve known?
It’s been a year,
I was shut in my home.

I remember sitting there,
counting down the days,
thirteen days, twelve days,
eleven ‘till Christmas.

Set up a countdown,
stare at each second,
cheer every passing minute,
ten days ‘till Christmas.

Put up the Christmas tree,
hang up all the ornaments,
pull out the stockings,
nine days ‘till Christmas.

Hang up the lights,
an inflatable Santa,
glowing in the night,
eight days ‘till Christmas.

Plan Secret Santa’s,
drag my parents to the mall,
buy all their presents,
seven days ‘till Christmas.

Write a letter to Santa,
Dec 16

Silhouette

Dec 01

Life Goes On

Nov 17

Are We Not the United States of America?

I admit,
I’m not a political person.
I never watch CNN or Fox News,
and I’m not ashamed to say,
I didn’t know the difference
between Democrat and Republican
until fourth grade.

But I know right from wrong,
good from bad,
compassion from cruelty,
peace from chaos,
unity from division.
My parents taught me those.
I thought all parents taught their children those.

Then why, when I go on the media,
do I only see
ugly words distorted from anger.
Manipulation spinning threads
around and around.
Chaos, not creative chaos,
destructive chaos, meant to mince you down,
shred you until there’s nothing left for the vultures.
Ire and rage,
hate and disdain,
mockery and ridicule.

“Trump got Covid!” a comment snarls,
“I hope he goes to hell!”
“Biden’s stupid!” another comment growls,
“Go back to whatever basement you crawled out of!”
Nov 16

I’m Sorry I’m Human

Oh look, something else I did wrong.
What next, I wonder?
Maybe say a word to my sister when doing homework?
Is that a sin now?
Or maybe, it’s not that I sinned,
but you thought I sinned?
Apparently, you thinking I didn’t wash my hands
before opening the Amazon box
is a criminal act now.

Ah, there you go again.
I wonder what I did wrong this time.
I’m just gonna play my piano a little louder,
so I can drown out your voice.
Wait.
That’s a sin, too?
Whoops.

I might as well not do anything,
for everything I do is wrong.
It’s easier that way.
I’m tired of being your lamb to butcher.
So I might as well not go into the butcher’s house.
Hold on.
Not doing anything is a sin as well?
Whoops.

Did you ever think
that I work my ass off every day?
I know what you’re gonna say.
“You don’t push yourself enough.”
Nov 09
poem challenge: Grateful

What Can I Say

Mom, Dad,
what can I say?
Can I say,
you gave me life,
you taught me right from wrong,
you believed in me,
you gave me happiness and joy,
you gave me courage and commitment,
you made me the person I am today.
And I just want to say thank you,
for everything.

What can I say?
Dad, look at me now.
Mr. Ashot says I’m an artist,
playing artist piano pieces.
My friends look at me with awe
when I place my hands
on the black and white keys.
I love music, more than anything.
Dad, look at me then.
I kicked the piano once, do you remember?
I broke off a white key once, do you remember?
I said I hated piano more than once, do you remember?
Dad, look at me nine years ago.
I played my first note.
I know I was frustrating,
I know you’re tired,
I know you sometimes sit late at night,
wondering what to do with me.

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