She wakes every morning,
puts on her face;
and her armor.
Refuses her breakfast
for it’s too early to eat,
and she isn’t hungry
It’s cold outside; too cold for comfort.
But she’s never comfortable,
something is always not quite right.
One piece in her puzzle never fits.
Hunched over her bright world
she gazes blankly.
Watches it as god watches us
scrolling and scrolling
through life after life.
She’s a beauty queen,
mistreated and hurt.
With no one to blame
she turns inward
to herself.
She fears there is nothing in this world
that will ever make her world
whole, again.
She walks through this hall,
with a hidden frown.
There is too much bad and not enough good yet the good
still hides the bad.
Some people hold an undeniable presence,
their spirits are solid rock.
Others, like her, I think
my hand could pass right through
as if tracing air.
The day ends,
she can’t call her friends,
what if they don’t want her around.
So she walks home,
alone. Per usual.
After removing her face,
and throwing it out,
She reveals herself, scars,
bruises, burns, and breaks.
It’s not long before she falls asleep.
For tomorrow she will create a brand new one,
to mask the same old pain.
When I was young,
I was told
I should always
Appear bold
They told me to
Show my stance
And to always
Take the chance
Then I followed
Their guidelines
It put me on
The sidelines
So I have learned
A lesson
That silence is
A blessin’
Once I learned to
The improvement
Was profound
Remember.
Remember the verdant needles
Of the proud pines, standing tall
Remember the warm air
Whispering through their full branches
Remember the cloudless azure sky
The sun illuminating the glittering water
That trickles merrily over smooth pebbles
To disappear beyond a tall, mossy rock
Remember.
Now the chill wind shivers through the
Bare bonelike branches
That point like accusing fingers towards a
Sullen sky gray with clouds
The stream is frozen,
a crude and stagnant
Mimicry of its former life
I shuffle through dead, decaying leaves
Blissfully ignorant of the bitter, biting wind
Remembering.
Life is like a seesaw,
Our journey is just like walking on the seesaw
From the bottom to the top side,
You begin with your first step on the seesaw.
Every step that you took,
It became more threatening,
The higher you grasp
The more intricate it is for balancing.
When you think yourself is progressing towards the top,
You realize you are falling,
Like a rollercoaster speeding down the tracks,
Towards the unknown.
Then you find out,
You cannot always reach the point that you want to reach,
Struggling back and forth numerous times,
You perceived the intricacy and started to screech.
However, you afterward become discerned,
That you realize standing at that peak,
Is the balance point of human life,
However, how would you streak?
There might be another method,
Where somebody is holding up the seesaw for you,
It might be your family or the people you love,
Or the enemies that you had successfully couped.