Teenage

Dear Santa,

I’ve been fairly good this year
I’m sure you would agree,
Just ask your elves and they will tell
Just you wait and see!

Tidying my room without being asked
Has become quite a normal thing
And washing the plates (which I hate)
I do with the pride of a king!

So this year I ask for something
That is quite, well… different
A pair of trainers and a jumper
Will make me feel quite pleasant.

I’d like to say I’m ‘Growing Up’
And acting more mature
And with the Grace of God I’ll carry on
And good deeds I’ll do more!

The colour of marmalade
Stuck in the sky,
Under clouds of the past.
And the stillness of my heart
Rang bells,
From the shards of glass.

Ignite the stars,
Such a beautiful sight
As it illuminated my path.
The moon absquatulated;
Leaving a quite ringing,
From my beating heart.

Guarded walls lay about
My hurting heart,
Tall as trees, strong as rock.
Whispers from my aching heart,
Try to answer
The other lonely heart.

dust leaving the ground,
engine whirs
as the body heads to the clouds
a wave of new possibilities await us
rubber lost,
asphalt marked,
the new world waves Red and White,
a strange sense of connection.

Small space,
new school, age five
A Cold winter, one to two
A Cold summer, one

slightly Bigger,
First close friend, first house change,
age six
Cold winter, two to four
Cold summer, two to four

Bigger,
First ride on a bicycle, first visit to America, age nine
Cold winter, four to eight
Cold summer, three to seven

Biggest,
First time driving a car, second visit to America,
age fourteen
Cold winter, eight to eleven
Cold summer, seven to ten

then . . .
dust leaving the ground,
engine whirs,
as the body heads to the clouds,
a wave of new possibilities awaits me
rubber lost,
asphalt marked,
the new world waves Red, White, and Blue
a strange sense of disconnection.

A new world,
New values,
Out of place.

There are sparkles in the night
And the moon’s shining bright
There’s no need to shed a tear
Unless you want to show some fear

There are sparkles in the night
No need for any fright
Because your daddy is here
Giving you love and cheer

So merry christmas to all you out there
Just sit back and relax and enjoy a ginger beer

Why do we have to go to school I often say
We have multiple things we can learn from in our day to day
Famous people on insta, hasbins who have lost the plot
TV stars, cartoon characters there are many more…but I forgot
I told my mum this information after school one day
She said, “If you don’t go to school i’ll slap your bum,
‘cos I’ll have to pay!”
I walked away with a sad look on my face .

Choices
They’re things we are given that allow us to control
The lives that we own and the souls we console.
I like to think I’m a pretty caring person,
But almost too caring to the point where It’s worsened.
As I sit in my bed and the time reads one,
All of my “friends” are out having fun.
What is a friend anyways?
Someone who is dependable?
Who never sets astray?
Maybe someone you love and care for.
But if that’s the case why is my love so poor?
Is it not pure enough?
Or is it simply not good enough?
Maybe it’s just me.
But can someone spell it out please?
Because I honestly just can’t see,
And I hate being used, so just set me free.
If you truly don’t care,
Then why use me, it’s just not fair.
To me friendship can never compare
To all worthless seams that are at a tear.
I’m not a plan B,
And neither are you so can’t we agree?
To me what you give is poison through dead seas,
But I can’t help I’m addicted to who’s absentee.
I hate being taken for granted,
But this fake love you feed me leaves me enchanted.
Is loyalty too much to ask for these days?
I mean dang that comes free and it still can’t be paid
I want to leave but I just don’t know how,
Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you now.
This desperation for acceptance is turning into hate.
Maybe we aren’t soul mates and that’s just our fate.
But if that’s the case you better hurry before it’s too late.
A friend is a friend.
You can never have enough so let’s not pretend.
All I want is to be there till the end.

There’s something inside me, it’s a disease,
but not the type that makes you sneeze.
He settled in without a sound,
now he haunts me like a bloodthirsty hound.

He barks and growls,
whines and howls.

Yet you don’t see
that he bites with glee.

Alone, I fight this wolf everyday,
’cause nobody else knows of this stray.

In spring he hides,
in summer he bites,
in autumn he’s nice,
and in winter he rolls the dice.

So how is it that while I fight this war,
you are here no more?
Play my wounds of as a scratch,
nothing that can’t be fixed with a simple patch.
You pet the dog, saying it would never hurt me,
but deep down, you know your words have already
killed me.

Our affable progenitors lived in aura of serenity and rapport for ages,
for aeons they enjoyed a secured ambiance even without military aegis,
they enjoyed halcyon and seraphic moments just like innocent and harmless babies,
but now corruption and violence is at its climax like a widespread wave of rabies.

Our schmucky and reversely sedulous government shirk their responsibility and render us vulnerable,
they beguile, exploit and inveigle us in a way that is quite intolerable,
precursors of Armageddon who claim not to be culpable,
and always airing the embers of violence and corruption believing to be politically capable.

The Earth, our only residence, is barbarously battered,
horrendous actions of debauched recidivists render us paranoid and shattered,
we skitter and doggo at the sight of horrid turpitude and our emotions become scattered,
and our antecedent tranquil universe becomes a rumbled history that can never be gathered.

Sassy- goal-worthy brigands saunter and sashay with much gusto in daylight,
they ride and own sumptuous assets which they accrued from their calamitous activities at twilight,
turning the living to cadaver is, however, their utmost delight,
and, with their nocturnal escapades, they turn our peaceful world into a human abattoir and they have no insight.

The world is now a cryptic hamlet that we cannot fathom,
where rancorous gadflies nuke and massacre one another with Semtex at random,
where the idle and sinecure expectant nincompoops suddenly rise to stardom,
and the patriotic hard-working fellows become skivvies and factotums.

Let us all rise to our greatest responsibility,
let us all abide en masse without rancour and enmity,
let us salvage and rejuvenate our effete world in unity,
and let us cleanse our world of all forms of impurity.

Let us free our world from all turpitude and skulduggery,
let us abhor savage acts and armed robbery,
let us pleasure not at the sight of gory skirmishes and thuggery,
and let us, altogether, heal our world and stop feeling sorry.

I don’t care about people’s feelings.
I don’t care about soldiers who fight for us,
I don’t care about tiny helpless babies,
I don’t care for the disabled,
I don’t care for the mentally ill,
I don’t care if puppies live or die,
I just don’t care

Remember what they said,
About putting myself in your shoes
And putting yourself in my shoes
So we could feel what the other’s feeling
And know just how much it hurts to hurt others?

It’s called empathy.
Look it up
Learn it
Practice it
Live by it
Because I know it exists in this world.
It’s never been done with me
So I don’t know how it feels,

But I know how it feels to be
Hurt
Beaten
Broken
Smashed
Bashed
Hit
Smacked
Punched
Bruised
Bitten
Wounded to the very core of my soul.
And not even physically,
But emotionally,
Socially,
Just trying to break the most of me
Being driven so far that I start thinking
Wouldn’t it be better if I’d just
Die?

You know,
This really reaches me on a spiritual level.
But it’s the spiritual level
That I tend to have troubles with
Because I just can’t tell
Whether there’s a god or not
Because I’m down on my knees
I’m praying
But everything is staying the same
And I remain wondering
Whether I should listen to
The people telling me to die,
Or the people telling me to live
Because both seem like good ideas
But one offers me relief while the
Other offers me pain
And I’m trying.

But this isn’t about me,
It’s about you.
It’s about how you let a girl
No older than five
Leave with a man she barely knew
Because she doesn’t know the
Difference between a stranger,
And a familiar
And you let her leave.
Knowing she would never
Smile again
Say hi again
Shine again
Because you let her leave.

Why does skin color even matter?
Are we not all human?
Because my skin is a couple shades darker than yours
I deserve to be
Beaten
Broken
Smashed
Bashed
Hit
Smacked
Punched
Bruised
Bitten
Wounded to the very core of my soul
Because of some stupid stereotype set upon my race?
I’m human.
Just like everyone else
I’m trying to hold onto my life line
Please someone be my life line
Because my life line
Is sure to end
It’s ending.
Because I’ve been reaching out
But no one’s grabbing my hand.

But this isn’t about me,
It’s about you.
Because you
Beat
Brake
Smash
Bash
Hit
Smack
Punch
Bruise
Bite
Wound him to the very core of his soul
Because he prefers to be called she
Because she feels like even though
She was born male,
She is a female.
But she is still human.
She is still allowed to live,
Allowed to breathe,
Allowed to pursue her happiness
Because everyone has the right to
The pursuit of happiness
So keep pursuing
Keep dreaming
Keep wishing
Keep hoping
And try to find your peace

I’m trying to find my peace.
But how can I find my peace when
I’m falling to pieces?
Because the rumbling in my stomach
Is too great
I’m homeless
Shelter less
Waterless
Foodless
Succumbed to the streets
Singing my song of sorrow

I’m as free as a jailed bird trapped in a cage
Its wings broken by its master
So it may never fly again.
I’m suffocating in this
Small, small space,
I sing of freedom.
I chirp my melody
As the pain envelopes me
And the realization dawns upon me
That I’ll never see my parents again

And the smoldering heat
Scorches my skin
As I bend over to pick the crops
That cut my raw hands
Forcing myself to ignore
The small crimson beads of blood.
I’m not allowed to cry
I’m not allowed to whine
Or take a break
I’m wounded to the very core of my soul.

But this isn’t about me,
It’s about you
And that thing called empathy
Where I should put myself in your shoes
And yourself in my shoes
Look it up
Learn it
Practice it
Live by it
Because I know it exists in this world.
It’s never been done with me,
So I don’t know how it feels,
But I do know how it feels,
To be hurt.