Life's Battle

Running is time to figure yourself out.

It rids the body of unwanted toxins.

It cleanses you.

It makes you whole again.

Its empty’s the mind, and washes all your troubles away.

It restores you.

It resets your life’s equilibrium.

As it rejuvenates you, it hardens your heart.

It puts all your troubles aside and prepares you.

It brings out the warrior within you.

It prepares you for battle.

Life’s battle.

Serenity

Your facial mask isn’t needed.
Your “beauty” creams and powders.
Where you are going,
it’ll just run down your face anyways.

Your long wavy and frizzy hair
need not be tamed just yet.
Don’t give that mirror a second look
just pull your locks out of your eyes.

Your closet need not be bothered
nor clothes strewn across the room.
Just find something you can move in
it need not match at all.

Your phone blasting with today’s drama
your chores, your daily tasks,
leave it on the table.
There is no room for it where you’re going.

Lace up your favorite pair of workout shoes,

Any old pair will do.

Lace them snug against your feet,

And take the first step out of the door.

 The pavement will not judge you,

It’s just glad you’re there.
The trees will not laugh

at your makeup less face or your tangled hair.

 

Just make your way down the street,

At your own, personal pace

Walk or run just take your time,

This is your own special place.

Your Message

 

You are very clever.

If I hadn’t known you, loved you,

Or needed you so desperately,

I wouldn’t have noticed that it was even there.

 

Random feathers clinging desperately to objects,

Hiding in plain sight.

A message that nobody understands, but me.

 

As people walk right by, they are oblivious.

Oblivious to the small, hardly noticeable,

Insignificant messages.

One that they could never decode.

 

This heaven sent note,

like my own personal bread crumbs,

you leave for me to follow.

 

Your beautiful, yet random feathers,

That I pluck from stranger’s hair,

I hold so dear.

I know that they are for me.

Your message, your love,

Your sign that you are here.

Your message that I love,

Oh I hold them so dear!

Your Vicious Fun

When you were out having your teenage fun,

Did it ever occur to you the damage you’ve done?

The broken windows, the paint ball stains,

the shattered glass on the chipped black panes.

Your spray paint pictures on the walls,

With my childhood toys, still strew, down the halls.

As you destroyed this house, did you even care?

About the family who once lived there?

My only faded memories of my deceased dad,

In this house I once had.

So the more that you fucked with this place you were in,

The more you destroyed, my only, memories of him.

Death of a Hero

Empty. The barley standing, falling apart mess was empty.
Despite the loud moans of the house settling into the earth,
the silence awoke me, ringing in my ears.
Barefooted, in an oversized t-shit, I ran from room to room panicking.
Frightened, anxious, alone, I peered out of the window.
Realizing that no one was home, I crawled into a ball and cried.
Feeling as though I had sat there forever, I began to wonder.
Why did they leave, where did they go, what do I do?
As I began strategizing, the front door creaked open,
He walked in. My superhero, my best friend, my dad.
Holding me as tight as a seven year old should be held,
I blamed him for leaving me as I sobbed into his work shirt.
I was just outside, he said sympathetically.
I would never leave you.
His words, so strong, and so reassuring echoed.

Then, I found myself barley standing. Falling apart, a mess, empty.
While the voices of those around me were loud and unbearable,
I stood there, unable to breathe, consumed by silence.
Exposed, in my funeral clothes, my mind raced from memory to memory panicking.
Numb, confused, alone, I peered into the casket at the crushed, swollen face.
Realizing he wouldn’t wake up, I fell to the floor and began to sob.
Feeling like this day would never end, reality flooded my mind.
Why did he have to leave, where did his spirit go, what do I do?
As I stood there in shock, I remembered the door creaking open.
He will no longer walk in. My superhero, my best friend, my dad.
He will never hold me again like any young girl should be held,
And again, I blamed him for leaving me as I sobbed over his casket.
Laying there, he said nothing.
You promised you never leave me.
My whisper, so desperate, and so lost echoed

Who are the real terrorists?

Who are the real terrorists?

Sirens echo in the September air

as people run everywhere.

Two twin towers crumble before our eyes

Through the radio we listen to their sobs, their cries.

Gun shots, like rain, pour on this March day

As American soldiers head into the town of My Lai.

As the villagers eat their morning meal,

The soldiers head in to search, to kill.

As ash falls throughout the city, so unprepared

The firefighters go in, ready but scared.

As they try to get the most people out,

the towers being to fall they panic, they shout.

In a small town with no men of fighting age,

The soldiers still kill, this war that we wage.

Raping the women, engraving them with a “C”

Marking them as victims of the C Company.

 

In our ambulance we sit ready with our medical supplies,

We listen to them pray, and state their many goodbyes.

As the buildings crash into the ground,

Radio static becomes the only sound…

Scalping the children, cutting out their tongues,

Not caring if they were just little ones.

As they piled the bodies side by side,

In the ditch is where these innocent and lifeless civilians reside.

All over the news, even today,

We hear about the twin towers and that dreadful day.

The media made sure that the enemy was known,

But are American’s really the victims like the screen has shown?

How many people know about the massacre in My Lai?

Do they celebrate remembrance of that dreadful day?

America and all our glorious power,

Made sure that this story was hidden, our terrorist hour.

 

 

Family

They never keep their eyes off you,
they never go away.
The only way to keep them happy,
is to do what they say.
They will never forgive you,
and they will never apologize.
You can see it in they way they look,
you can see it in their eyes.
They wont give you a break,
in their grasp they hold you tight.
They pray for your death,
before they fall asleep at night.

The Calm after the Storm

By Kacee Llewelyn

The thunder rolls, as the crowds walk in.

The storm we know, is about to begin.

As drops of color fight for a right,

As they try to create a brand new light.

A storm based on single dream,

In hopes to wash away racism with the nights stream.

And all through the night, innocent hearts prayed,

for the lightning and the thunder to fade.

The rain pounded on the windows and the window panes,

Reminding the confused of why it rains.

Yet in the eye of the nights storm,

The dream still remained all tattered and worn.

The rain did not give into the white man’s mistake,

It poured and it poured using all the rain it would take.

And little did we know because of the rain that night,

That in the morning there would be a brand new light.

As I sit on the sidewalk and remember the rain,

I know the world will never be the same.

The streets have been washed and the colors are so bright,

all because of a black man’s fight.

I look at my hand which is held by a color so dark,

And think of the time when this would leave a bad mark.

I see streets cleansed by an innocent dream,

and forget of the racism that was washed downstream.

I look at the smile next to me so bright,

So glad that ancestors put up that fight.

Seeing how the storm impacts me today,

I think the king at night when I pray.

I sitting here thankful for the calm after the storm,

I hold a little tighter this hand so warm.  

Savior

In that dark corner, down the hall
my skin mirrors the horrors, I have felt them all.
strapped to that table, the ropes that held me tight
The ones that let me suffer through out the night.
That light in your eyes, that mirrors your soul
your eyes stare into mine, they're as black as coal
I guess I deserve it, you say this is so
I guess I need to work on the girl I have come to know
slices in my skin, my blood begins to seep
you threaten to cut off my tongue, if i even start to weep
my blood runs off the table, you claim to release my sin
you say you are saving me from the tragic state that i am im in
girls like me you say, don't deserve to be alive
thank you for you sparing me, better I will strive

The Troop Leaders Sin

Innocent lives were ruined that day,
scars were made to never heal
as the boy scout leader
gave his troops the pill

Pain began to settle in,
addiction like one never knew
as troop of little boy scouts
discovered the drugs that they could do.

Years went by they were pack,
together the drugs they did
thinking they had lived
all the life they were meant to live

One by one they died off,
the drugs had given in
taking with it the memories
of the boy scout leaders sin.

Today the last troop member died
the addiction held him tight
but it wont protect the family
who cried themselves to sleep at night.

Devil Wearing an Angels Coat

A devil wearing an angels coat,
for years you've had your way.
you've make other people think
that your tricks are okay.
Others may not see it,
your ways they do not know,
the evil seed inside you that has begun to grow.
All the good throughout the years
that have simply turned you bad
as others hold on to the person
in their lives that they once had.
I hope oneday you'll shed the coat
and show the world the real true you.
So your loved ones will one day realize
what "love" and "kindess" can really do.

The True Meaning of Christmas

Ah! Christmas the most wonderful time of the year! Who wouldn't love Christmas? If you hate Christmas you must be communist! There is nothing better then embracing the spirit of Christmas. Nothing better then listening to Christmas carols while taking down your Halloween decortations. By the time December actually hits the songs have been so over played we are practically brain washed. Oh and everyone loves family time! All the teenagers are texting each other during the family party "yeah, i came because I have been horrible all year and need to comvince my parents at the last minute that I deserve the new iphone four." "oh really man?! I came for the food!!' I'd have to admit... My favorite time of the year is using the Santa excuse! "Son if you don't rub my feet, shovel the drive way, and give away your dog SANTA IS NOT COMING!" *secretly giggles to himsef... little does he know I am Santa* Oh yes and there is nothing better then being woke up at seven in the morning on the only day that I can sleep in to run upstairs only to find oranges and nuts in my stalking. Like really Santa, I bake you cookies and the best you can come up with is nuts?!
Although I never really feel the true meaning of Christmas until school starts back up and all the rich kids are wearing their really expensive clothes and showing off their new beats head phones. Yup. Christmas rocks... All the poor kids feel a little less loved and all the rich kids have more to brag about. 
Seriously, that whole giving and family stuff is so old fashioned. Please continue with the Christmas songs, "family time", and stalkings full of oranges and nuts!

Modern day Shakespeare

To cry, or not to cry-- that is the question:
whether 'tis nobler to hold it in
and prove myself strong
or let it out, this pain held in for so long.
And by letting it out, to cry, to weep--
No more, inside this pain so deep.
The heartache, and the mournful cries.
That flesh inside, it suffers and dies.
Devoutly to be wished. To cry, to weep--
to weep--per chanced to die,
aye, there's the comparison,
for in that weep, that my heart is in,
When we have shuffled off this mortal pain,
the pain is still, yet very insane
that makes holding it in so hard for me
for the weights of time, how painful they can be.
The witnesses thoughts, so vial it seems.
The hurt I feel is in his dreams.
The beatings from inside, and the gain,
I myself can't obtain.
For when I find myself in this state
with a sorrow? who would make.
To sigh and hurt under a weary strife,
I get nothing but pain from this life.
But the dread of hurt for tomorrow's day,
the undiscovered hurt, coming my way.
No return my strength, after my cry.
The strength that will forever die.
Than to hold it in, the pain I know of?
Thus, does make a coward of my love.
And thus the raw and suffering
is forcing a cry within my being.
And living in the moment still
with this pain, is it my will?
With this though, I turn away,
and hold in the pain for today-- cry you how,
Oh the pain!-- in thy heart will remain the same. 

the ugly person

I see that mask, the one you wear,
don't bother asking me why I stare.
The one your wrapped around your head
because you lost your humanity, you've gone dead.
Go ahead and play it fake
putting on that thing was your biggest mistake.
you are now lost behind that ugly mask
and pretending to be you will be your biggest task
You put it on with your head held high,
as I watched a part of you die.
That mask I have to look at you don't see
the ugly person you have come to be

The Monster in Me

It's taking control. It's inside of me.
Don't make it mad or set it free.
Allow it to rest and don't let it wake
for that will be your biggest mistake.

Don't try to save me for it is within
its deep beneath my bruised up skin.
It holds me hostage from deep inside,
it brings out the me that I try to hide.

When it comes out, a truth shines through
a side of me that you thought you knew.
Just leave it alone, and let it be.
Don't agitate the monster in me.

I've Tried

Robbed from the experiences that I'll never get.
Sitting here wishing, and full of regret.
They've given up on me, they don't know what to do.
They've lost the girl that they once knew.
He wasn't just my dad, he was my best friend.
How was I supposed to know that his life would end?
Staying strong for others, while I am dying inside.
Driven to depression, and suicide.
Pretending isn't helpful, it's just getting by
strength is being able to cry.
Not allowing myself to get rid of this pain,
for without it the memories wont be the same.
Barley scratching the surface of this tragedy
for not getting over it, they are mad at me.
I too want this pain to subside,
trust me its very hard, I know because I've tried.

Consistency

All the chaos that surrounds me,
my one consistency is you.
My thoughts are bound by your smile,
and they can't evade what you put me through.

I cling to the hope that when you are near,
you feel the same impression that I do.
The impression for my need,
and knowing that what I want is you.

When you leave my side,
in my thoughts you manage to falter.
You give me a break from the insanity,
My hectic life you seem to alter. 

Long

I am lost in a memory that wont seem to heal
and stuck in a moment that seems so unreal.
Sad enough that I hurt inside,
with not enough strength to help it subside.
Floating through life as if I was dead,
and holding onto myself by a thread.
I am slipping apart through my own seems
and forgetting what this life even means.
Stuck on pause while the world moves on,
wondering why healing is taking me this long.

BLEH....

He holds my strength, he gets me through
You hold my happiness, a smile that is true.
He has been here forever, what a long time to stay.
You are brand new, something to freshen up my day.
He is what I need, what is best for me.
You're what I want, what I hope will come to be.
He's shown me loyalty, by my side he staid true
You've shown me a hard worker, a man inside you.

Skin

You see my skin
I know you do.
It is my own way
of showing you.
Yeah it hurts,
why can't you see?
This physical pain
it sets me free.
These scars they show
the pain inside.
The pain I feel
I don't want to hide.
Help me through
and protect my skin
Save me from the
pain I'm in.