Teenage

Pancake Tuesday
A very good mood day
Chocolate and blueberries
Toppings that are so yummy
In my kinda small tummy
crêpes, American and soufflé pancakes
Oh what happiness it makes
If you don’t like pancakes
Belgian waffles you know you can make
There slay and ARE kinda preppy
But I prefer crêpes eep!
That’s why I love Pancake Tuesday
It’s a very good mood day

Now I’m forced to sit in a chair and write
All the things I see in sight
I don’t find it easy to focus all the time
It’s hard to sit there and just try
When all you can think about is the time
Second by second the time feels slower
I just wonder all things that can go lower

Once lunch comes around I’m so tired and want to go home
But I have to tell myself to keep on going
I stare at a page for an hour or more
Wondering when the rain will start to pour

Then I tell myself that it’s the last hour
I have to keep going or I’ll have no power
I stare at a wall and let time do its thing
And then the bell will suddenly ring

I go home and lie in my bed
Feeling so drained but I have to do it again
Teachers say that school is okay
And there’s is no reason to sit and complain
I wish they knew how much I tried
But I always fail, its like that every time

Living your life the way you want to live
It is not that easy, things don’t go right
There are bad friends, that you might not forgive
Life is not as pretty as the moonlight

Life is not like the midnight aurora
There are challenges that are difficult
You’re acting like Dora the Explorer
What will you do when you’re an adult?

Get up and do something, don’t be lazy
Your parents will think you’re a failure
You think you’re cool but you are just crazy
You have to work for a better future

Living life is not that easy, my child
So work or I will send you to the wild

I’m like, yeah, she’s fine
Wonder when she’ll be mine
She walks past, I press rewind
To see that face one more time
And I got this sewed up
They all know us
All fast money, no slow bucks
No one can control us

We have witnessed war
It should be no more
What are we even flighting for?
Let’s try to make
the wars no more.

Peace is want we need
it should be for all
presidents shaking hands
No more need for NATO
We have witnessed war
It should be no more

Once upon a simpler time,
When life was light, and youth would chime,
I’d ride the bus through golden days,
Where laughter paved the winding ways.

There was a boy, just first grade small,
His laughter loud, his spirit tall.
Eyes like stars, so wild, so bright,
He turned the bus to sheer delight.

He’d tell his tales with boundless glee,
A living spark and so carefree.
Every chuckle a melody,
He seemed to know life’s sweetest key.

But today I saw that same young face,
Older now, in a different place.
The spark had dimmed, the joy had waned,
His silence spoke of something pained.

And it hit me then, like a wistful sting,
How childhood flies on fleeting wings.
How laughter fades, and colors drain,
When life grows heavy, steeped in pain.

I wondered what had dulled his fire,
What stole his dreams, his heart’s desire?
Could it be the weight we all must bear,
The silent burdens, the world’s cold stare?

To the boy I saw, and the one I knew,
I wish the world could start anew.
For in his eyes, I saw my own,
The fading spark, the joy we’ve known.

Oh, how I miss the days of light,
When dreams took flight, and hearts were bright.
But in the silence I still hope to see,
A flicker of that fire, wild and free.

Always the painter,
never the muse

Always the poet,
never the poem

Always the well,
never the water

Always the heart,
never the blood

Always the palette,
never the paint

Always the clouds,
never the rain.

You ask me, my what’s purpose?
I say, child, what is purpose
but threads of fabrications, lies and manipulations
they’ve made up to tell you that you’re never enough.

I say child, all I need is
a place where four walls do not exist,
where my lungs breathe and do not gasp for air,
I don’t need a label to be attached to
my ambitions.
And if you find somewhere calm,
don’t go looking for this “purpose”,
you’ll end up tattered,
your heart putrid or worse,
dead.

So, let me write my poems
And paint my pictures
Let my well bear water.
My heart filled with blood,
The palette fresh with paint,
And the clouds imbued with rain.
I don’t need a sense of belonging,
Purpose need not come running,
I’m safe. I feel needed. maybe not here,
maybe not there,
but somewhere, someday,
I’ll find peace,
and that’s all one needs.

Misery, oh you sweet betrayal

How you made me succumb to mayhem,

of my own mind

The words so jumbled, I was aghast,

The thoughts couldn’t be put across

I tried, alright? I tried to be strong against,

you and your mighty impetus

But oh you, sweet misery

You make me puke with your anonymity,

the personification of pain,

was a person so strong, they collapsed me,

to nothingness, I was but, aghast

I couldn’t against the mass of my own misery

So I drowned in the poison of my thoughts

I let it reverb and repeat to my ears

They now form a sweet melody

Bittersweet misery, a conniving thing, ain’t you?