I have no trust in others
You will never hear me say
I trust you all the way
You are worthy of respect
But people teach me that
I should keep to myself
I know better
I can trust you
Something tells me
This is what I learned
I am not a victim
You can not convince me
I blamed myself
A child i was no longer
I will not cry
I won’t shed a tear
All i could do was is stand in fear
When i saw myself i had to ask
What is a victim.
“He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his
heels a stone.” (IV.V.XXX)
The warm whisper of a melody winds through the air, escaping like the last embers of
an abandoned fire
From the chilled lips of crippled innocence flows the omen of foretold sleep
Up she goes, wracked with the weight of a sort of neglected recklessness, heavy
To braid-to weave-to intertwine; to speak through those which so romantically offer life
and beseech upon death
Go silently; succumb to the suffocation of the mouth and the suppression of the mind
The ferality of consciousness, the human abyss, danker than the lure of the murky
Every time I walk home from school,
I see that little sprout,
Wondering what the plant would do
If we had an everlasting drought.
I sometimes think I’ve seen it before
In my life or in a dream.
I ask myself if it ever felt lonely
With such a low self-esteem. Continue reading “The Little Sprout by Angela Guzman”
Little crisis in your mind,
Shattered nerves that try to bind
Your thoughts, sheltering something that is mine.
Shatter, goes the words she speaks
Broken are the actions you seek
Hidden treasures you had are
Now under the anonymous creak. Continue reading “Little crisis in their minds by Cynthia Ocloo”
On the day of love everyone cheers and gives
Chocolate becomes sweet and melts in the mouth
As red and pink become the mascots of our hearts.
Now, no one likes the logical thinking of the day of love
Hearts are not shaped like that, and love does not drop from above.
Hearts are the real blood pumping system. Continue reading “Red by Amber Roberts”
His black eyes were filled with despair
But to the bitterness of his sword, it did not compare.
His soul was deprived of rest
His voice was lost lest it be heard.
His hands were iron, holding onto his weapon
But he waits, for his darkness to beckon. Continue reading “Cupid’s Opposite By Cynthia Ocloo”
Tears flood from her hopeless eyes
And bring me pain
She reaches for that taunting bottle
I plead for her life
Thin lines of blood tremble to the cold sink Continue reading “Bathroom Mirror by McKenzie Smith”
I still love you and I can’t get you out of my head.
Each day we don’t talk I feel like a broken machine that can’t run without your love. Continue reading “I still Love you by Carolyn Hines”
Pegasus 