Category: Poetry

  • WRECKING BALL

    by ERIC

    Rooms littered with black and white,
    the ceiling discriminates the walls forcing them to see the ceiling as something to despise.
    The abuse on the foundation starts to become trite,
    Clichés jammed in the mailbox,
    the overly used expressions are to be shipped away, to be gotten rid of like a parasite,
    cancerous, but they still give insight of a haven that could be paradise
    if the civilization in this situation wasn’t given hammers to cause genocide.
    When fingers are pointed to the structure, the area without a wrecking ball is victimized.
    In a equation of thoughts, people forget to simplify to make everyone equal.
    When they identify a broken home,
    broken for a reason, it’s all are wrong so we can’t vilify.
    Racism of floor boards try to be washed, but the soap and water is filled with hype
    that energizes the lies.
    Of the fact that it does
    the house fluctuates and caves in all of sudden
    in a racial race worth running for the hope again even if it isn’t nudging.
    A tragedy occurs and the house sees its molded from the water it was always trudging,
    held in the basement the heart of the house the egg
    pushed through the fallopian only to breed bigotry and nothingness.

  • THE DOGS AND THE DEVILS

    by DARLENE

    Reading, writing, laughing, playing,
    these writers have no shame.
    Stories, poems, raps, and scenes,
    these artists know what it means
    to have a soul,
    to have a voice,
    to express themselves like no one else.
    Making friends
    and bonding lives,
    the depth of their actions
    speak louder than their words.
    The Dogs and the Devils,
    hand in hand,
    living through the actions
    of pen and pad.
    Creating the worlds,
    they most desire,
    the Dogs and the Devils
    have the power.

  • HATE

    by DARLENE

    Hate to me is the thought of not being able to forgive,
    the knowing of not being able to forget.
    Hate is being known for something you are not
    and being unable to change yourself.
    Hate is sorrow, anger, and loneliness,
    the blood that drips from the lips of the innocent.
    The salt from the tear of the beaten.
    Hate to me is my previous life.
    The life of a child who only wanted to end her own story.
    The thoughts of a girl who wanted all around to end their’s.
    Hate is the loathing of the ones she made foolish.
    The minds and hearts she broke ruthlessly and oft.
    Hate is what I was.
    Hate is what I still am.
    The hate I hide within myself is and shall break through
    to the reality I know as life.
    And the hate I hold within myself shall overpower the strongest of hope.

     

     

  • HUMANITY

    by DARLENE

    We are all born
    From the same thought,
    The need to reproduce.
    We are all made the same.
    The same structure,
    The same mind,
    The same, everything.
    So why?
    Why do we hate?
    Hate each other so much.
    Because of the way we speak,
    The way we act?
    We all see the same,
    Feel the same,
    Breathe the same.
    So why?
    Why do we have to kill each other?
    For land?
    We have enough.
    For food?
    All we have to do is think.
    And we can solve every problem we create for ourselves.
    I don’t understand.
    Why do we divide ourselves into these categories?
    We are all the same.
    Human.
    So why?
    Why can’t we all be human?
    Why can’t we truly see?
    What we’ve become.
    Maybe we can.
    But it scares us so much,
    We try to hide it.
    Forget about it.
    Maybe,
    Just maybe,
    If we don’t try to hide?
    CAN we fix it?
    Or is it too late?

  • WHAT IT’S LIKE

    by KRISTEN

    Regret is like…
    the last slice of pizza getting taken when you wanted it.

    Being speechless is like…
    the guy you like wanting all your attention, but not getting it.

    Winter is like…
    A big heat stroke needed of air.

    Confusion is like…
    not being worthy to a king.

    Doug Manuel is like…
    the breath of fresh air needed after a hard time.

    Crying is like…
    your favorite show being canceled, ice cream being melted on a hot day.

    Change is like…
    not knowing what color finger polish to wear.