OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

Angel's song

Somewhere in the distance, I hear soft tunes
a song of hope in this world that is hellbound
Join me on this marvelous musical adventure
travel with me to the inner depths of sound

Sometimes the earth cries for her children
as melancholy spreads its dark wings
Yet this is not like anything I've heard before
this song is one that the angel brings

Somehow we must find the place it's hidden
and we should be careful not to make a wrong
Me and my friends, we leave silently
to find whoever is playing this wonder song

Someone sensed our approach and disappeared
at the same time the music stopped playing
Desperately I look to my friend for answers
'hope is dead' is all I remember him saying

Poem I wrote a couple of years ago.

Run away

You were far too perfect for me to believe

that someone so lovely could have been in so much pain

But you curl up inside of your messed up mind

Wishing you could sleep away the days

until the end of time

You've bled out these words

it's a sound that no ones heard

You've screamed out their names

But they're too busy for you pain.

So inside here you lie

and you are too far to hear me sing

but maybe you'll hear these ___ words if

I just stand and scream

Maybe you could vanish now

Become a ghost inside the crowd

No more nightmares that hunt you down

Their screaming silence mutes the sound

Maybe you could scream in fear

Scare away the ones who pretend to care

Maybe we could just rot tonight

Add a numbness to the bite

Maybe you could run away

Is there any other way?

Maybe we could run away

Tell me dear

What do you say?

-A.D.L

(redaction by forum mentor annie)

Today I woke up

And I had almost forgotten you were gone.

I almost sent you a text as if nothing was wrong.

It was so strange how your name came up as if nothing had changed.

Its so weird how it feels, as if everything's the same.

The music still plays.

There is still rainbows after rain.

Even though I lost you that day

the children still play.

You'd think they would have stopped

But to them nothing has changed.

You see the sun stops for no one.

When you're gone don't expect rain.

The world stops for nothing,

It'll spin on just the same.

Although it feels like you left only yesterday

Everything inside me has torn away

But the hundreds who never even knew your name,

To them it's just another day.

-A.D.L

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE

Another Statistic

I'll just be another statistic.

Another lost soul that didn't make it.

An empty cause that could no longer take it.

A hollow heart that was done with faking.

I'm a number that adds up to a whole lot of nothing.

A body full of scars to remind me I'm something.

Screaming in writing as if they'll hear me.

Trying to drain these tears

And find a meaning.

Will you even remember me when my breath ceases to exist?

Or will myself be represented by a number to all of these masses.

I don't really wanna die but this pain still persists.

And all I can help is wonder

Will I be missed?

Or will I just become another number added to the list.

-A.D.L

WORLD WAR III

In World War I, the blacks could not fight in the war
A white kiling a black would be going too far
In World War II, the perfect race was being made
However, the perfect race was never created, nations making the dream fade

In World War III, we faced an eclipse that we barely wished to witness
The colour of our skin determined our richness
Where what the eye sees mattered more than what the heart saw-- feelings resisted
The past is not the only place where racism existed

Look at me and tell me what you see
I am black with a heart of gold... silver, whatever, but tell me
Why does it matter that I am colour?
Racism hasn't erased me, my heart still beats and is filled with valour

Racism is the enemy, Pierre Berton said
It deserves to be met head on and stomped out until it is dead
But how can we stomp it out
When racism is the ghost with a deafening silence and a shieking shout?

Let me fight this war again
Let all my black brothers and sisters walk the streets, these young men
Constantly looking over their shoulder, not ready to be another name
Another Trayvon, another Michael, another Eric Garner playing an unfair death game

Us blacks are treated as problems rather than people
A disgusting sickness in which others find lethal
They bleach the parts of me that make them uncomfortable
Disinfecting parts of me that become undiscoverable

There is a war in our hearts
Our weapons are not guns, tanks, and metal parts
But they are love, compassion, empathy, hope, cooperation
Until someday we will move forward, all in liberation

Let me and every black man and woman out there be free
Be able to say "Last night, I safely walked the street
Without being drowned in discrimination, where morals lack"
Let us be able to say without fear: "I AM PROUD TO BE BLACK!"

Don't write her a poem that shall rhyme,

free yourself from that suffocating paradigm,

let the words trip over each other,

stumble, tumble and grumble,

as you fumble to find the right words,

words to describe a person that's constantly on the run,

trying to evade misunderstandings and misrepresentations,

boxes and cages of other's perceptions,

in the end falling prey,

to the voices in her own head,

the very thoughts that refused to surrender,

to admit defeat,

that protested against everything and refused to be silenced,

yet there it was- ,

defeat,

anything BUT discreet,

announcing it's presence not with a sigh,

but rather a cry that ripped the silence,

punctuated it all,

the pain, the agony, the misery,

there was no more escaping it,

denying it,

eluding it,

and as it shattered every illusion that still existed,

it broke her down,

almost like a fraction merely in need of simplification,

oh but boy,

it was so much more…

it was the release and emergence of a butterfly,

it had shaped her, defined her,

all that time,

spent crumbling and evolving,

wrapped in the comforts of the chrysalis,

she was finally free,

the first fracture had been the beginning after all,

but not of a downfall,

rather the beginning of the beginning of it all,

whatever "all" entailed,

was yet to be uncovered though...

~ Sky

Tranquil peace

At the end of the world I stand
I remain one of the surviving few
With this bloody map still in my hand
from here I have an eagle's view

Supposedly, this should be the place
where my loved ones found shelter
I realise, there is absolutely no trace
if she had been here, I'd have felt her

Despair surrounds my very being
desperate cries reach my hurting ears
Yet death is all that I'm seeing
stop I say, no time for useless fears

My bones are tired from this journey
to find the ones I care for, I resisted
The urge to give up and beg for mercy
to a god that is inexplicably twisted

The so called 'point of no return'
sounds so awfully final, like a surrender
But I must admit, for the end I yearn
a tranquil peace, so beautifully tender

You're the type of girl they write love songs about.

The type with a pretty face and a soft voice that make people weak at their knees

The most beautiful girl

You could rule the world with a smile.

You're the type of girl they write breakup songs about

The type to make someone's blood run cold

Their bottom lips tremble as they can only

whisper 'why?' to you as you leave them with no remorse

You're that type of girl.

I'm tired of pretending

I'm tired of saying

I'm tired of acting

that I'm okay.

I'm tired of living

I'm tired of seeing

I'm tired of telling

the same old lie.

When will someone

save me?

In springtime, when the flowers bloom,

In summer, with its joy and cheer,

In autumn, ‘neath the harvest moon,

Remember me, my dear.

In springtime, trees stand grand and tall.

In summer, bluebirds sing.

In autumn, leaves begin to fall.

Remember me, darling.

And one day, I shall reminisce,

When the leaves are young and new,

Ill think of you, and I shall wish

That I were beside you.

-Lucas D.