triumph

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War boils within;   Battlefield of my heart, scorched skeletons   Of memories rancid.    The tree of delight drips bare.   To You I exposed my heart,   Sublime seeds of offense,
When I was Younger, my mother always told me to stand up tall; Everyday is a struggle but I fight through it all. With my head held high, I’ll touch the sky;
When I was Younger, my mother always told me to stand up tall; Everyday is a struggle but I fight through it all. With my head held high, I’ll touch the sky;
To whom it concerns: To everyone who has taunted and teased me: For the color of my skin. For the texture of my hair.
So after you’ve beaten me into my unpredicted death, you shower me with flowers and kisses. You apologize but it isn’t sincere. I’ve lived life just waiting to die at any minute. I trusted you and believed that you wouldn’t hurt me.
I am done with all these Mind games Little tricks And frustrations   I am bringing it back to the Closed barriers
Dear Younger Me, with eyes so bright Dreaming of the future all day and all night Your fantasies soaring like eagles across the blue Your imagination skipping like pebbles do If I could offer this for the days ahead
The powerful women leap with joy over  the painted and indelible story they killed quietly with the eve of everything true. In unconventional status, they talk of a paradise for triumph,
The walls around me are closing in and I don’t know if I can get through to get out in time.   The shards of glass pierce into my skin, but I am numb to that pain. That’s not the problem. 
GPS
I once could not breathe.  My skin use to hurt. Darkness filled my mind. But love surrounded me. Love had always surrounded me. But only right now Right this second Could I truly feel it.
As blood gushes out of my wound and spills onto streets that someone in mine or yours were slaves on,  I do not think about #BlackLivesMatter or #AllLivesMatter.
The shakes, the nerves, the trembles of absolute fear I feel in the tiny hands attached to me.  They control me. They make one motion that consumes my focus entirely.  I am drowning in a sea of my anxiety.
The curtains rise on the acts of my life, And already there's confusion among the crowd. Nobody's bullied me. Nobody's pushed me, Nobody's jeered, Nobody's called me names,
How strange it is When a bright soul goes dark A fire put out by the hose of insecurity and depression Facing this world While feeling alone But is there beauty in the struggle?
My whole life has been leading up to this class-this moment. I am in AP Art. I’ve made it.  I’m one of the strong ones, holding tight through the current
A year defined and caged by a measurement, and constrained by time, could never explain the revelations, or cover the cost of my silent frustrations.
As the sun slowly rises  And gently wakes me with the touch of its ray, 
Life may be still Sometimes even ill There is darkness in every corridor Creeping up to redeem the souls of the restless However this feeling should not endure
So long ago In the snow The row of faces The cheerful row The stamping horses My calvary Brought the forces To foe's fallacy   With judgement's reign Our arrows aflame
There are few things I loathe more than writing poetry. My words fall flat, and the thoughts inside of me Are jumbled. Confused. My line of thinking Is tangled, like fishing wire. The lure is sinking.
Faith? Wht's that supposed to be? Believing in the path she's on she thought Even as all outside of me falls It's maintaining my sight Knowing what I believe I create in my life
Hope A blazing fire within my soul Motivating me further Inspiring dreams  Creating purpose Hope Keeps my soul from withering Like a flower denied rain I am nourished as long as 
I was happy. Exuding confidence with each breath. To a fault, but my favorite fault. And eternal fire in my mind, kindling the holy rush that was my ego.
I am strong -er than I was before Curled up, shaking, on the floor. Panic attacks that would make me weak.
*in response to my n'th reading of The Book Thief by Mark Zusak*   It's 11am and 257 pages The words have rinsed over my beaten and bruised soul as the rain.  
One stepand I felldown,down,into the dark.You promisd youwould save me,keep me afloat.But I remember thoselies well,as the tears floodeverything I know.
my spirits awakens from months of struggle that felt like eternity i always knew in my heart that i got the job never one time did i 2nd guess myself there is a cliche to never put all your eggs in one shell
This last year of highschool time, the best friends i've met in all my life line   On this graduation day on this last cheer, we will laugh and have fun until the sun sets here  
She can make cry and feel pain, remember the past and forgetting today
Four score and seven years ago This blasted class began. I have a dream that One day the learning will end. I dream of a different world, One conceived in liberty-- Or at least freedom from homework!
A twinge in his gut A shiver on his skin Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end A whole new kind of invisible, to see beyond today into tomorrow Vision misting
It's a raging battle inside of me  
I wish it could be over. I wish it could be done. I wish that I could leave you, But this battle’s never won.   You frustrate me to pieces, And drive me up the wall.
The dams have been broken and the water wears me down. Swirling and spiraling, lost in the sound, I grab and grasp for a fortunate foothold. For the one I found, I am forever grateful.  
I dont need youIve found something better.
  And after the storm We will rest in long moments suspended. We will walk with grounded steps On familiar land, And trust our feet to lead us home. We will dress ourselves
On January 13, 2012, it is the premature end of MY world as I know it. I’ve been trapped on this sinking ship for seven hours, But I’ll you my story about purgatory in a minute--
Mother Nature's test of will and strength Us poets and Americans stand for you in length. Winds were sent screaming through the fields like banshees, But we are a country, country united, so show no worries.
I’m a professional at wearing a mask, but once I’m off the stage it starts to crumble and I’m left standing with myself. Looking into a mirror that reflects the past Of another person’s life.
Hurry, Hurry, into the deep and you, my love, will be safe to keep all alone and underneath because up above the cyclone creeps
Fly
Fly my love Flee this wretched world.
Fly
Fly my love Flee this wretched world.
My fait slips, My will does not catch me. My hand trembles, As I hold this blade. I shut my eyes, And take a deep breath. My lip quivers, As tears begin to fall; I feel the pain,
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