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I run my hands down over my head Outlining the shape of my skull And wonder This year runs, the next one sprints Summer birthdays start to lose meaning
When I was little I used to be angry at the world For letting the night sky Grow dark. I was angry at them For taking away the stars
My heart is heavy asking will I ever be good enough for myself. When I look at myself why do I peer through my reflection like it’s nothing? Like I am nothing. Even when I say I am good enough and
Winter begins when our eyes meet We cast our icy stares at each other And I'm frozen where I stand I pound the glass in frustration You do the same The same idea must be crossing your mind
Dear February, Tears and heart ache. cracked walls with holes. a heart of hurt. butterflies in my stomach wanting to run out the door and drive back two hours home instead of walking
I flick a cig and it lands on a leaf, Burns to the ground and spins my beliefs, Here is where I see a glimpse of hope, A visual summary. Time and time again, I see this reflection,
I fear that the cycle continues That poverty runs behind me for most of the race But always ends up the winner I fear that the cycle continues
It was a mild evening A boy sat in silence The rushing fountain embraced his thoughts, fastened his mind to the stone below The mist touched his face, its caress as soft a a lover
As I lay here with my thoughts..thoughts of reflection. Thinking about the hearts I mishandled carelessly, breaking them after adding them to my collection.
Reflection September 10, 2018 ~ Monday Wake up one day Staring into the face of someone I don’t recognize Are those my eyes or hers
i look inside myself, i found a stranger i look out to my mirror and i found a stranger i looked into a window i found lots of strangers i looked out to the classroom door
I start with one foot, keeping my eyes away from the punishing sun and the towering mountain. I began scaling, feeling the burning of my muscles for every movement.
i sat in my us history class 4 years ago watching my spirit slowly split from my body and i wondered if everyone saw what i saw watching from the outside in, a spectator to my own body.
She paints the ocean Washed and faded memories Hiding a child's laughter in the bubbles of sea foam Happier times float longingly In her heavy, tired brushstrokes The reflection of a young sun,
Within human introspection comes a price, A revelation to the darkness of the mind. Venturing inside requires the roll of the dice, Are you ready for something not so kind?
A swirling pool of restless thoughts swim beneath the surface, Walking down a low lit path, I’m looking for my purpose,
quiet the voices quiet thequiet the voices.
water wraps around my legs sticky with salt and bone numbing wisdom my fingertips stroke murky clouds billowing across the sea’s glass
What stories would old bones tell us? What stories would they sing? I can feel my soul screaming But my head won't let it in I wonder if it felt like this, Rome falling way back when.
I've been broken and abused Ripped apart and misused But yet, somehow, I still function. I've found fields of sorrows And hopeless tomorrows Yet I still yearn to feel something
I look in the mirror And do not recognize The reflection Which stares back at me directly. Who have I become? She is not who she once was
My life. My life? I sit in class staring at the wall. The teacher spewing "knowledge" I am lost. Lost in my thoughts until I realize I have not been thinking.
One day i woke up to being alone. Not in the other human being type way. The alone you feel when you crave a look that understands you.
My Uncle joined the circus, which is okay, I guess, if you like that sort of thing. Truth is, that sort of thing really creeps me out, like how Lunchables
I look at myself in the mirror and only see a monster. I see the fat that sticks off of my stomach; what am I? Pregnant?! I see the stretch marks that line my legs, I must be fat.
Dear future me, I am from a softly lit night sky stretching out into the dawn, a homely little cottage basking in its warmth.
Sometimes at night, when the second-hand ticks endlessly, forever mocking me for my inability to grasp the embrace of sleep because I am too busy thinking about you and the burn
For the wicked, unknowingly suffering in their ignorance I wept For the lost, wandering the plains of a broken nation between salvation and damnation I wept
You fickle thing, You keep on looking, For your reflection in others, Anxiously sending out, Clouded rays of light to broken mirrors, When will you see, That the light reflected,
Dear Mom, Or Pam, I suppose. Enabling the lowest of my lows. Do you remember me? Is it the memory or the idea? Cheap wonder bread and ham, cool kids who couldn't care less.
Dear pen, We’ve been together for years Changing with the seasons And yet our character is still the same. Across thousands of pages,
Dear I, You are always there Only hidden by my ego When I fight, I learn to surrender Your honesty is my power Dear Us, I am always aware Learning to let go
Dear Future Self...I really hope that you are not theMe that I am now.The one who is too patientFor her own good.
Dear Justin, You do not know it quite yet But your fate has always been quite set; By the flourish of your sword And by the integrity of your word;
Upon reflection There’s a madness that resides Where an emptiness used to Thinking back on the kites that lead me by the wrists through the past
"Stop overthinking”You say it as if it's easy, As if I could just flip a switch and end the constant mental processes
Dear Baby girl,
to the girl who was always painted red:
Spinning and toiling with the thought that life is funny, how you can be so stable and have the ground ripped out from underneath. At least I have a home and job, at least I am not in the streets,
Dearest Reflection, The sun illuminates my room. You present yourself. Once upon a time, blue and hollow, now radiant like the star light flowing in. Your smile, once seldom, rare, and far between,
Dear Future Self, Do you remember the beat The thumping of feet Up and down the halls In and out of classrooms
Enormous, silent flashes Fill the arid night Lightning so bold it reveals clouds For many an arid mile One, two seconds apart A jovial dance Performed on a stage
Dear You, This is my least favorite part of my day. I can never escape her eyes. And my body can never escape her judgments. "Bent, broken, barbed" That's all she seems to say as her nails
Dear Grandma, It’s been roughly a year and a half since you left, Mom was never the same. Uncle still sits in your room from time to time and tries to drink away the pain.
Ever wanna just get away,find a place to stop and think? Somewhere alone with your thoughts, so in your mind you can sink. Soak in the beauty of your surroundings,and enjoy the view.
These war-torn calloused hands of mine, scarred and bruised and filled with memories. That scar on the soft spot of my palm?
Gliding through the frozen ice portrayed as time, It is so easy to forget the memorable events That paints the portrait of the world. Yet, with one more careful glance
1. It’s okay to cry, don’t let him beat it out of you because if you hold those tears inside, they will eventually drown you. 2.Embrace the parts of you that are fearless-they make you strong. Don’t suppress that, own it.
Because I love you, I swallow your sins,
with you there’s no need for explanations and no misinterpreted expectations with you there are no fears
Love is wild, Like a flower. When you like a flower you just pluck it, When you love a flower you water it daily... You nourish it, Heal it, Rejuvenate it,
What perfect means to me Is no perfection at all. It means that you are clumsy, You are loud, You are quiet, You are graceful. It means that you are awkward, You are simple,
The girl in the mirror looks at me with sunscreen still on her nose, A smile plastered across her face as she realizes her mistake, I turn away from the mirror and try to rub the sunscreen in,
Pray, and a message you’ll receive, Sitting unconvinced of eternal love and devotion, Abandoned in a confinement of grief, Weary of further exploration into this emotion;
Here we are going Down an ever familiar road, To only find It's not the same at all. It used to be Something different But I guess things are never the same. They are always changing
Something I like to remember when I need to cheer up Is that I was not a part of the plan I wasn't thought to be possible
I have gotten better at this disguising Bullshit yes I said shit I'm tired from taking hits From people that ain't it this poem ain't pretty letting my petty come out and greet thee
Dear Mr. “Nice” Guy, You buttered me up with precious words, so magical to my ears. You filled me with new hope, an escape from my painful past.
Today. Today I question myself Who is in my life? Who cares? and Who holds me back? The answer awaits You see, for me to ask that I would need to understand myself What do I want?
A part of me feels guilty.
A peek into my eyes and you see nothing. I hide my emotions well, may be too well. I am very good at it, the result of decades of practice. Might even venture to say that I have mastered the art of emotional silence.
It is awfully hard to pick a fight with something that you can not see or reason with. All my life, the one thing that I have never seen, the one thing to which I have not been formally introduced.
Blue night whispers to the late rain i’m lost in the mirrors of me.
We are capitalist slaves with broken dreams. The red and white are now meaningless streams, and the stars no more etched seams on a flag that sells deceit as equality. No need to quote our anthem's wrongs.
Amazing to grace! Happy! Very Intersting! I feel down! Not a very good feeling I should speak. But i don't want to toy with it Nor do I want to break it!
One more moment Frozen One more moment Paralyzed Break the ice and the silence Break the silence so deafening I'm your broken mirror Look into me here I'm your broken mirror
I’m from sunlight shining, Birds singing in early afternoon. The fortress beneath sheltering pine trees, Narrow paths I’ve walked a thousand times.
There are no monsters in the closet-- Not yet. Because the fangs of friends have yet to be sharpened School is a land of heroes and misfits
A year is the blink of an eye That sheds a tear, That makes things clear. A lot can change, And stay the same. As the eye opens And sees the light What once was a blur
It began as it always does: empty promises, hollow resolutions, and the hope of a blank slate despite all else. It began with the same empty conversations, the same inevitable vows for a better tomorrow.
If I died, I’d cry But if I didn’t, then I’d never be alive I think I’m sad sometimes But other times I think that I’m just lying I like to sing out loud about death And feeling bad, and never being their yet
The sun rose and shone on my face through the window I threw myself out of bed and fixed my hair I walked up to my mirror and realized that I wasn't looking at my own reflection Her hair was a mess
2016: The Year Fear Took Over You Think it will be the best year You Think you will grow You Think you will change
Last year was no different then the year before it or the one before that or the one before that , because lets all me honest right now , every year kinds sucks. It doesnt matter whos in charge
I cant breathe! YOUR world suffocates me. YOUR world, Yes! YOUR world because You have never made me feel welcomed in it. Am very much the alien, lost in YOUR world. Never ceasing to remind me that I am different.
Slipping under the guards of yellow tape, that warns "stay away," burying myself into clouds and space. Locked into this haven, reserved only for my soul,
A toast to the New Year, the three of us here, The three muskateers, and together we are strong, Our bond is forever, our cause greater when we belong Brace, for winter is upon us, anticipate the loss,
The world is changing. For better, or for worse? Last year people seemed to overlook me In my surroundings I felt cursed What did I done wrong? I asked I received no answer, so I wore a mask
2016 january, it's january i am 16 years old now everything is good, and happy for once february, it's february for the first time, i have a partner on valentine's day
First Two Tries Third Failing Attempt Four Trials of Flames Fifth Error Yet Rises Above Six Six Six was the Luck
This year, love has so many more meanings than the last. Love takes up more of the space in which emptiness lived until now. This year, love can be definable, or not.
"An epiphany!An epiphany!" they cried.
Like a flower, I have grown The way leaves soak up sunlight, I have gained new knowledge and experience: Met so many different people
Three-sixty-fourHas knocked this time With Three-sixty-fiveStill close behind.The day begins
Stuff went down this year. I got an associates, and became a mom!
Emotional healing and heartache, / Her Mother coddle her as if she was / Seven years old, / Red plump cheeks, / Streams of water spilled down / Hitting the tongue in a form of / A salty back-slap of / Betrayal for not being able to / Hold
I don’t know who I am anymore, I can’t distinguish myself from my friends, Who I am doesn’t even matter, Because we’re all pawns in one giant chess board,
A valuable year soars by, Opportunities and experience it provides. Yet a greedy year glides by, Toxic relationships and people it hides.
I'm afraid I'm afraid of my own voice I'm afraid of my own mind I'm afraid to express my love even though it's one of a kind I baptized in diluted water Changed my voice to appear harder
What makes me happy? What an odd little question you ask I thought life was supposed to be hard I thought I was supposed to pass by misfortune without any regard I thought you wanted me to be miserable
Write what you know, they say. Write what you know. What do I know? I don't know how to trust (you can thank my dad for that) I don't know how to seperate dreams from reality
Years go by as they always do Some go fast, others slow, But never a year taken so long As this year's past. Changes occur as they always do. Some welcome, some not. Haircuts and new friends,
Today, I woke up.Yesterday, I ate toast.The Day Before That, I rode my bike.I don't know. The change between Today and Yesterday and the Day Before That are difficult to see.But if you asked me the difference between this year and the last?
If I were to write you a eulogy I would start by saying You are not dead I still see you in the mirror In the smile lines painted permanently onto my face I carry you in the baggage under my eyes
As New Years day came, the words "new beginnings" engraved my soul. I was tired of playing games, and from us taking it slow. I made my decision, i was moving to miami, cause you had my heart.
Packin bowls and all I smell is loud My senses gotta be fucked Since when can I see sound? Dumbfound you have me Bruh I'm Not so grounded can we
i wonder what the others feelwhen drinking wine or grape juice.it's strange, i know--it tastes to melike comfort, love, identity--the fruit of the vine, warm chanukkah nights,
‘Today’ my mother says, triumphant, ‘we are bottling peaches’. When I ask why, my mother tells me that it is ‘our tradition’ As though I have bottled peaches before. I have never bottled peaches before.
You Are A Better Son Than Your Dad Dear Son you were born in the afternoon it was god’s felicity and incredible boon lullaby your grandma began to croon you crying face looked like glowing moon
It starts with a feeling, the pinprick before the stab. Imagine a box. Stored in it are the most pessimistically intense feelings.
Who am I? I still don't know I've got a lot to learn And a long way to go There is so much to do So much to explore And one day i'll know What I came here for I've been looking
puddles reflect many wonders they tales tales that make one ponder but beware for they reflect the present wonders Only oneself can create future wonders Oh puddles you make me ponder
Someone who can't make up their mind. Unable to tell yourself that you can do whatever you want. Maybe you are what everyone says you are.
Short note: the following poem is in Villanelle style. As words that infuse life into a dark place, Poetry gave a face to the tangled mess in my mind, As strokes on a page that probe a soul’s triumph and waste.
Beauty is a broken mirror.You try to pick up the piecesNot caring that the sharp edgesPierce your natural skin.The rough edges scar your body; They create jagged lines across something Already beautiful.
Moon shineSun shineweave through the linesthat divide and marginwhat we interpret as realityonly what is tangible and experienced but what of the invisible?
Have you ever felt alone?Like there's all these people around you at work or schoolSmiling and laughingWith their friendsAnd theirBest friends.
It’s difficult, to say the least,that with dying embers follows,a shift to a sobering cease,leaving thy blushing touches hollowed.
So I sit here surrounded by acquaintances, friends, and best friends i've made over this short but arduous 4 years
Poetry and I, We are inseparable. We are long lost friends Who found each other Inside cracks of foaming hate And melting sorrow. Poetry and I, We are connected by truth.
When I was 5 I wanted to be a singer. Music brought smiles to my mother’s face and stars clouded my vision. Because of that singing felt right, but that was before I knew I had no talent.
FLORIDA, COCA-COLA, A TYPEWRITER I moved to Florida because I wanted to write a book. I moved to Florida because I wanted to drink Coca-Cola on the beach and write a good book.
I'm not sure I like my reflection;He looks at me funny.There's something in his eyesThat boasts he knows me too well.And I just don't trust him-I think my secrets he might tell.
Do I love myself? Do I hold my own dear? Do I wake up and live a life of no fear? Do I look in the mirror and see a queen? Do I look at my hands and feel machine?
The mirror's peers peering Into the glass mask erected to hide That he takes advantage of their selective hearing To conceal the burning hell inside Terrified that the mirror's fears blazing
Heavy breathing Emotions seething Mirror stumbling in the darkness Chest and lungs heaving Reflections causing pain so heartless Now crying, curled up and screaming Panic
Reflection The most important of actions The mirrors have it mastered Replicated image captured Their faces face others Their eyes eyed by their pupils But behind the glass burns a fire
the clock ticks remarkably fast, take a deep breath and look back, each moment is becoming the past, think of experiences you still lack. take a deep breath and look back,
Your words are the Holy Scriptures I know by heart Confirm me with your smile and let me view God’s art Your hand’s caress surely has power over me My skin is blessed as my mind drowns in dopamine
It must feel great that your life has a soundtrack Forget responsibilities, you'd rather sit back Relax, just be a character not claiming any agency How are you your own side role? Wake up, you ain't no baby
You I hate you And yet I’m supposed to love you I want to be rid of you Yet I never will completely
A rapid fire brain. Unceasing thoughts, Seemingly distant, Yet present. So very present. Immersed in the moment, But all caught up in a jungle gym of reverie. Too focused to be distracted.
Looking back you see
The lens of her minds eye is tinted
I look into the mirror Confused and blue. Where is the girl that I once knew? She is hiding Deep Underneath my skin What I wouldn't give To see her again. She is bubbly Curious
When I entered middle school it wasn't quite as I had planned
feeling the red, white, and blue shadows
On a winding path I wander Ahead of me I see a mixture of light and dark Because born of sadness, joy is Branches whack me in the face Roots shooting from the ground try to trip me My sack weighs as much as I,
if a mirror was placed before you and you cast your gaze upon it, what would you see? if the reflection that comes back is not yourself,
Get all your ducklings in a row
I stand before the mirror And all I see is an error A bloody X across my being Telling me this ain’t worth seeing.
I look at the ground underneath my feet
8/19/12, age 18 At five years old, my hometown seemed like Wonderland, Countertops that towered over me, the aroma of baked goods Infiltrating the crowded sidewalks, coercing me to want a taste.
Lights. Curtain. Action!
Who am I when nobody can see? Behind closed doors and darkness, I am truly me. Guarantee. I am the one with the big heart. You know…? The one that always ends torn apart.
Without filters I fear for my mind and the tricks it plays on itself all the time Without filters in which I see the world My eyes would see opportunity everywhere and not just the beaches,
Trial and error,
I cannot do this
I am smiling too wide, I am looking too directly at the photo lens Click. Click. I tilt my head just a little bit further and I will feel pretty Click. Click. Too bright. Delete. Too shiny. Delete
Behind the beige powder, behind the jet black liner, Behind the brave brown eyes, behind the fake smile, There is a girl. Aside from the straight auburn hair, aside from the sculpted brows,
Are you satisf
Red locks of fire Framing my expression Eyes of changing colors From under the earth to the green above Legs of a gazelle Nose of a boar Wide grin and sparkling teeth Pristine and perfect
She stares back at me with her brown squinty eyes, her lopsided brows raised in apprehension. She raises her palm and her delicate finger taps the surface. "I know," she says. My eyes glaze over.
Staring at my reflection
Everyone you meet - the ones that you avoid- these people are your reflection. See yourself as they see you, Would you be welcomed or Rejected.
It was an ordinary day But ended with tears
"Who is that?" you ask as you stare her way. shes changed so much. "Why is she like that?" you wonder everyday. "Look at her stomach!" You say, grossed out. She hates herself
In the Mirror is a gratifying reflection, a young girl seeking for attention. An outsider wanting to be thin, desperatly wanting to fit in. someone that's been in a frown, constantly being let down.
Mirrored That is without glass A place inwhich glamour lies Our pictures hidden By the pictures of ourselves Hidding the natures of ourselves
I am surrounded
Tell me, what do you see when you look at me? What do you think when you
From day to day we fight to see the beauty behind thee, these cuts we cover dust to find the strength within the idea of we, anger leads to failure to go where we strive to be, denial of hope in the beauty we do not see,
She looks into the honest, fogged mirror And she sees a person she’s proud of She sees the deep lines stretched upon her forehead Symbolizing the wisdom of her old age She sees the dark circles hugging her eyes
She tilts her head back, rolling curls of dusky brown hair fall over her shoulders. Copper eyes with piercing abilities stare into my soul... strangely familiar.
Everyone tells me how beautiful I am, and yet I don't see none of it. All I see is a hopeful girl holding on to false promises and dreams. They gather around a
A leaf spirals down Glint red-gold Brittle brown Above the park pavement. The children pause Pensive watching Still as stone Observing it fall. A filigree fire A dying hope
Universal infinite, as strung upon the stars Collapsing voids, swirling masses of rock and gas, slowly losing solid grasp Drifting into worlds where the unknown dominates a presence of oxygen
For one minute, the past
Do you ever just have one of those days where you wake up and nothing seems right? One of those days where you look down the hall and someone has turned off the lights?
Mirror Talk For a while I’ve been saying what I don’t truly know I thought I made myself A long time ago Looking in a reflection Hoping my thoughts won’t worsen
Confused... Wishing that I knew what to do. Angry. Yearning for the day that I'll get a clue. Get a clue as to why I let them antagonize me. Because all I really want is to be free.
Tuve un vistazo del cielo Exhalo un gran exhalación Un aleteo en mi pecho El mano en el muelle y empujón
Time goes by so quickly there was little time to contemplate the joy we had in our daily lives We hardly thought of our loved ones and our friends because our hectic life had no room for it
I pieced together the clouds in the sky and they were so perfect God asked me to paint the night So many stars, I broke the sky I broke the sky
A structure alone Of jointed bones With a thin layer Of mortal beauty Fair skin and dark eyes Fair heart and dark mind Oh I pray that this Is all there's to me
My reflection is a mirage purely an image Based on deception hidden with lies buried in secret It whispers happiness to me But all I can see in
I look into the mirror, a grim expression on my face. For I know that she is staring back at me, just like she always does. Such an honest expression, one that seems to look deep into my soul.
Dance is known as the language of the soul . A boundless reach. An endless beauty that waits to capture and move.
Exact image shown in a different light Image relected back to you shows you the way others view you.
This is not a poem,it is a waning recollection. I danced with death in Bermuda,entangled in his unescapable grasp,my deepest insecurities mirroredby his icy and desolate self.
The quiet silenceAs my soul remembers meAll that I became
In this reflection
My head, thickset with smoke, emotion's run, Arid hills ring augmented, fragile child Twists, and vanishes to midnight blue sun, Perception, understanding beguiled.
Who am I Shaheed Baukman 9/11/2013 You use me every day, causing you to become complacent to my significance
a still, clear pond lays robin waits for a response but knows what awaits
Reflection I See
She was a sad girl Although, no tears fell from her eyes. Her sadness was hidden Her smile full of lies. She had so many dreams
Mirror, Mirror on the wall When will I feel beautiful? I feel as though I have no call, Tell me is it worth it all, Mirror, Mirror on the wall? Mirror, Mirror made of glass
Growing up is tough, rough, but I''m learning a bunch. About Who I am, Who I want to be, and all the new people I meet. Sometimes I wish my life would all slow down, I'm becoming a Junior in High School
No. Is all I hear.
Five Twelve Fifteen Seventeen
I walk a lonely road in the dark Filled with thorns and thisles I hear music, see a small light I am wearing tattered old ripped blue jeans I am cold
A soul of paper:
I am not the only one in the White Room. Sheer fabric whispers from the windows Goblet in hand, I drink to the Grecian lady White dress, raven ringlets frame the face Of porcelain A laugh escapes
Droplets of water, In we go to depths unknown; Impact magnified.
Look at those girls in the magazine!
I have felt the burden she carries
When I watch you thoughts calculating like an abacus thinking, examining an unknown world and classifying it as "lost" I cry. When I watch you lips pursed like a padlock
I'm attracted to mystery I jump into the unknown Assuming that it's good Because it's new. I want you because you're different You're elusive You're confusing You suprise me
Oh it pays to be funny It pays to be smart It pays to work hard And complete what you start But what do we make Of the talented fool Who inherits the earth And who thinks he should rule?
Texas sun hidden in the different shades of the sky I saw dark blue, layered between light Clouds that battled to occupy space It is here that I hide my face And watch grass and flowers opened their leaves
I'm about to graduate from high school and this year went by extremely fast Junior year I had a plan about where I was going to college and summer plans How I wanted to be more social and join the track team
I want to reach up and touch the tip Of the tallest tree on the tallest hill And maybe then I'll get a look At all the world and have my fill Of forests and mountains Of lakes and streams
I sit on a crooked tree branch Leaning against it As I stare out into the distance Mountains tower above Darkened shadows with white tips Shrouded in pale mystery Meadows crowd the land below
Where do you look for a reflection? In a mirror, on a shiny spoon, on a car window.
My body is trapped My mind is free The spirits that swirl from my body must flee and feel around me the air that they plague a mystical sense so close and so vague
Rain drops on the pond, Their tiny little ripples that stir the water in curious patterns. Oh, how I love to watch the rain. Maybe our lives are like those itty bitty rain drops,
You look in the mirror but what you see isn't really you Sure it's you standing there but it's missing something too You don't see the way your eyes sparkle when talking about something you like
An ageless voice echoes Like light upon water; Reflection: When a mind recovers
To the one with unbearable anxieties and sorrows, Holding you back from living and breathing towards tomorrow Believing that the light of hope on your Savior's shoulders Will fail to reach you in time
We have some planes…four words that changed the world. Men, women, children, even a three year old girl. In 102 minutes 2,977 innocent people gone. Now families are left not able to go on.
It seems to me that mirrors never give an honest reflection of a person.
I'm the color of your eyes, you're the color of my socks, so what? He protested: but what about me?
I remember the comets The day my walls fell— Crooked as my reality Crumbles into a rubble I felt choked as Fate’s hand throws dust Into my eyes blinding
No hesitation when my pen touches the paper
I will never amount to anything. I will have no role, no impact on this world. Am I significant? The world would go on without me. I will pass from this place and nothing will be changed.
As I look at my life right now, I see ridges and bumps, I see valleys and hills and rivers that I haven'
I saw a picture of her Somewhere With snow in her hair And a forgotten smile Holding a snapshot Of her simple beauty I thought I recognized her… She had a bad habit of
I look out the window and what do I see? I see a strange little girl staring right back at me. She scrunches her nose and begins to pout because she just cannot seem to figure me out.
The sickled sling which cast doubts beckons from the blackened light. An inevitable dream that awakens me abruptly, haunts my ever waking moment.
I stand in front of this mirrorI rub my eyes to try and see clearerI stare at this reflection
As I lay down in bed I think about what I could have done differently I think about what my life could have been What if my dad had never left? What if my sister would have never been born?
The Spectacles An Original Poem by Catelin Haight Through the spectacles of the soul
I woke up with half of me missing. Perhaps it was tired of the other, Constantly clashing and roiling, Always at odds with one another. I woke up with half of me missing.
I watched shadows dance on the wall last night.They told me the stories of their every plight.And I cried, because it reminded me that I was alive;That when they stopped, I’d have no place to hide.
I know a boy who thinks too much
Among the mirror I continue to stare
My reflection gives me a disappointed glance As I stare back at my appearance. I take a peek inside my head
Floor by floor all the same with souls; persons with names Floor by floor smothered with ash; smothered in flames Floor by floor with worried looks on faces Floor by floor with no safe spaces
In 2009, I became very self conscious after going on a diet for prom and it quickly spiraled out of control.
A question that I often wonder Fills my mind while the quiet world sleeps. It seems to pull my sanity asunder, And the better part of my brain it always reaps.
In a head full of madness
Last night I watched the clouds go by. It was 1AM in Alaska so there was still lots of light. I sat and watched as they slowly scuttled across the sky, neither trying to impose upon the other.
Do not be like a jagged rock; static, forlorn, yet easily eroded. Do not be like the mountain; overbearing, ignorant, unmovable. Do not be like the wind; blowing too hot or very cold.
America will always remember this day
Every family has its ups, Every family has its downs, Every family has its smiles, Every family has its frowns. Every family has its sunshine, Every family has its rain, Every family has its happy,
One of the saddest days of American History The reason it happened, we don't understand why Watching that first plane fall Was like watching fire fall from the sky 9/11 will always and forever be
Her body was a temple, handcrafted, with exeptional curves heavenly, lightly fragranced with cocoa butter and almond oil She invited men inside, and the temple began to cave in.
Instantaneous instinct in the shadows of My yesterday; the nostalgic scent sickens me. What used to plunge my soul in hypnosis Is now a long-lost, hurtful memory, A reflection in which I've built immunity
I am convinced thatThese are the days i will remember lookingback and forth between glass,asking what does TruthFeel like?
Sailing in the waters of which You wept, You sees a Light in the distant of the cove, a Light that Reality would refer to as a dead end. The Light fades, then flares, fades,
I look deep into the windowless abyss falling further and further into the never ending wormhole i call a brain
I found the devil, not in hell, but in the infinite space between my body and the mirror.
Love, Deep love, Why? I am Vile! Villainous, Mischievous Destructive, Productive Seclusive, Inclusive Hate, Deep hate, Why? I am, I! Represent, Comprehend
Here I am sitting now Thinking of that long lost day I remember years ago The day that struck us all I was sitting with my dad In that lonely den When on the TV came the news-of-
You watch the number on the digital clock gyrate a teasing dance that burns your eyes and you can feel every second that ticks by in the tightness of your skull and the dryness of your eyes.
I am ineloquent. My mind is a ball of yarn the cat has played with- it's tangled and mangled. Distorted. I pull the string from my mouth, but I sometimes reach knots. I am ineloquent - but only in a sense
Yes I was old seven when the planes came crashing down When firey gray skyes hit an unexpecting city and unexpected loses were abound. Yes I was tiny but I still understood not all the big words
People are unpredictable. If you think they are who they say they are, then you're wrong from the start. You can only know somebody, if you truly know their heart. But how will you know that if they cover up their scars,
Behind my bedroom door, I hear screaming and fighting; Someone always ends up crying. They try and hide it, But from were I sit, It gets louder, and louder; Overwhelming my ears.
Mirror, mirror shed some light I need to see the foe I fight I need to see what's wrong with me I will fight to prove I'm free I'm not the man I used to be Tell me why can they not see
We go so far to find we are alone.As I wander the faculties of my mindI come to the conclusionThat time is the pinO' self-destruction When I lie at nightMy subconscious mind takes flightI journey to planes on astral connections
A mind has vacated its body Escaping voids lingering deep within a battered soul With ignorance to the disconnect it harvests A storm is brewing yonder And one will become wary listening to the thunder
Wandering memories retrieved every year A different perspective from all my peers Everytime tears befall Due to the attack we all recall As I begin to slumber, I start to wonder
The greatest struggle a man faces is himself. How shall I describe man? He is full of trickery, deceit, and lies. He manipulates and twists the world for his best interest. He is a hypocrite.
I see a girl- She’s shattered. Vanished. She realizes everything she’s been told is true. She just stares. Every memory rushes back to her.
I’ve always hated my reflection. It taunted me, Broke me, Nearly killed me. It chained me up So that way The thoughts couldn’t escape. Each day I would look
I see her she sees me What possibly can this be? We’re so different yet so alike I guess it’s one of those mysteries of life As sweet as I am, she’s bitter as a fruit
There are two different sides to me There's the me that you see And the one I could be The me that you see is envious of the other I want to be just like my alter ego brother
Yet my heart flutters, my gut repulses.I crave his company and voice,even though every mutter of his breath will be of her.The way his lips move when he speaks,oh it melts me to the core with crave.
The way you smile at me is intoxicating. So much so, that every moment I look at you is degrading. Your spirit is like a two-edged sword. It can cut through my mind when I'm bored. I have so many desires
It takes months to create, and yet, with in seconds it can all be lost. That one moment that decides your destiny, your future, your everything. It's what you've been working for all year, all season, your whole career.
Writing a poem is a grand expression Of the man I am and the one I want myself to be Words become lines, lines become poems, interconnected like brush strokes in a painting or the individual notes of a favorite song These words that capture my hea
Here’s to Here’s to being able to sing Here’s to the ability to articulate masses that continuously passes The masses of my mass thinking
I'm sitting in this chair, arms tied behind my back. A dark room with pure shadows and nothing but whispers. Blind folded and pinned down to the sounds of
Faith... Grace... Mercy... Salvation... Redemption... I am told that I have these things. I am told that these things are given. Free. Free of charge to me.
I once believed I once believed That I could one day change the world The world is a cruel place And I wanted to change that I wanted to take on the world By myself I once believed
I wake up to the warm morning sun. Already has this terrible moment begun? Outside the window I see many individuals pass, And out on the pavements that’s where they express their wraths.
I look in the mirror, but I don’t see my face, I see a lot of things that are pretty out of place. I gather my tools and I primp and I fashion, A mask to hide The flaws I imagined.
Music notes Play in my head Sparking laughs, tears and shame. The girl I used to be Lost along the way. Tunnels and mazes Hide her pain. Where is she? When will she come back?
To remember pain, confusion, and tears is a difficult thing for anyone—especially for those who do not understand. Ten years is too short and far too long. For some, the wound has healed clean.
Her left hand rests palm-down against the mirror,this hand is relaxed in comparison to her fluttering mind.Who am I? She wonders.
Feelings, emotions building up Words bursting to life as I try to express myself. Physically pouring my thoughts on paper Critiquing my own judgments and views. The chance to improve myself,
She lies in bed with me at night, She pushes me to fight, She’s the fire that ignites, And inspires me to write, She says everything will be alright, And from the mirror looks into my eyes,
Baby Brother If only you knew what a great sister I wanted to be for you. If only you knew what Daddy had planned for you. If only you knew how happy Mom was to have you.
Could I go back in time and speak to myself I would choose the Samantha of four or five years.
I am the one for the talk The walk has commenced And I refuse to be the fool Playing the jester's part You tell me lies I smile Graciously actlike I agree And walk away
The sun breaks upon the Earth, its royal light, radiating upon Gaia. We are closed, broken, yet hopeful. Seeking a source of warmth. There are many, some we do not realize. The simplest beauties.
I see the girl in the mirror. So good at being me. But she's not. I know if I close my eyes, hers will close too. If a tear rolls down my cheek, one will fall from hers.
A reflection I am fat. I am ugly. All of these imperfections. I need to be perfect. I don't eat. Fat equals ugly. The mirror tells me so. My reflection stares back at me. Disgusting.
Do you see what I see? The boy in the mirror His life is a smile But it is false, fake, and broken He turns to the left His reflection again This time from a razor As he cuts again
It starts off slow with a Capital letter, For your birth is a big mark in someone's calender. You move from stage to stage, Just like any other- A common letter in the alphabet of life...
Too many times I settled for mediocrity Embracing shiftless sloth over responsibility Every day I’ll fight for my integrity I wish I could say I found clarity I spend more time sleeping than I do working
The rain lays a single touch, You feel calm. You hear the roaring of thunder, You see anger in your eyes, From the puddle that is made. From the rain? No, From the tears running down your face.
They say there’s an unimaginable ache, The flip of your stomach that screams for you to pull the trigger Control is cold and heavy in your hands Power sits idle between your fingers begging for release
Again, the mirror on the wall torments me. “You are wrong. You have no reason to live. Leave and go away!”
I should have turned When you said “I’ll be really disappointed If you’re not actually a virgin” I should have ran And never looked back I should never have given myself To the likes of you
How are you so sure that this is my proper cover? There is no clear label marked on this pink blanket I think I should dissolve the adhesive, peel it off, and start over
From the birth One was looked at as unusual weird, not normal But why the eye deceives one to judge Not of what you know but of what you see Its hard when your trying to be Not like he or she But to be you
The room was light Misty and still As if to foreshadow the sunrise I reached the dining table To find it adorned By a half empty jar with roses Of five, six, or seven The number escapes All I remember is the moment I laid eyes on the most beautifu