People Tell Us
People tell us our teenage years our are best,
But when I begin to think as I lay down and rest,
But I feel that it went a bit different for me,
Because before now I didn’t like being me.
I was being different just to try to fit in,
But when you meet those friends that will be there for good,
And you begin to be yourself because u see them and they could.
But just because you get upset or start thinking,
Your friends will be there to keep you ticking,
And if you feel your life might be bad now don’t become a hater,
Just be patient and be with friends because things will get better.
There once lived a void, born of emotions, Love by name
It thought it knew the people, yet a killer it became
A white light, an emotion, an unstoppable force
But in it’s heart of hearts it was… the same as me and you
Witty lil statements, of hate was it’s aim
It scattered all the World; and caused it so much pain
It even helped stone Kings, presidents and killers
Who prayed that emotions one day… Would just stay away?
Chasing down the people. It sought them everywhere
And into distant lands it went – how far, it didn’t care!
Even to Damascus, and Antioch and Rome
But that’s when hate met him there… Just outside a fish dome
“Why are you fighting, and kicking me little Love?”
To which Love quickly answered, “Gowan, you hate me after all?”
Then hate simply said, “Oh yes I am, and since you’ve now been found
The world is waiting for something… To turn it upside down!”
So, from, that very moment, on that old dusty road
Love’s life belonged to hate, and Grace overflowed
They journeyed throughout the globe
It was their wish that every day… to-show Love and hate to someone
Now this is not the end, of the story that you know
It continues to this very day, and the balance must go on,
Every generation life and heart and land!
Loves life was just a glimpse of grace…
But without hate, it cannot stand.
People desperate for cash,
Girls in short skirts,
Boys that want flirts,
Not fitting in,
But always sticking out,
People don’t care,
Unless you’re thin and pretty,
Boys just want to score a fitty,
Fathers that smoke,
Mothers that cry,
Young teens wishing they could die,
Dark lanes with fights,
Lonely heartbreaking nights,
Eyes wet with tears,
Minds filled with fears,
One day we will realize
All we have is each other
And we should care about one another.
My family is broken, but I wouldn’t change it,
But everyone is happy and we don’t care one bit
My mams been the best dad that I could ever ask for
Because with my brothers and sister I wouldn’t ask for any more
It’s the people who are there that are most important
And they’re the people I wake up and see every morning
Most of all my mams my inspiration
And she was the one around to craft my imagination
She was the around when I was going through hard times,
She was the one who was there to see the signs
She was the one who nurtured and cared
And she was the one to hold me when I was scared
My siblings have their dads and see them often
But that never stopped them from helping me to blossom
And the people I have helped make who I am
And I who I am won’t change from the absence of one man
My families broken, but I wouldn’t change it.
Everyone is happy, and that’s truly amazing
No one understands you.
You’re not gonna get better, It’s not gonna change,
You spend your days walking around school in a haze of forgetfulness ,
That you put yourself into because thinking was too hard,
Your nights are spent awake unable to drift off into the black numbness of sleep
Because you can’t escape the sheer white pain running through your brain.
You’re always stuck thinking I’m not worth it, I’m nothing
And that was shown to you by every adult,
Who shouted at your mistakes and every person who used you for something.
You’re not and every painful forced “love” you’ve gotten
That made you hate yourself more and more.
You’ve worn yourself down into an empty shell of that happy young person you used to be,
All that joy you had has been replaced with a numbing depression.
That is the fault of those who used you.
You take the blame, you think wrong place wrong time,
Skirt was too short, you go home and you cry in your be.,
You pull your own hair out, you make yourself so skinny that even small clothes hang off you
And you fill your head with poisonous thoughts that make you a slut, a whore,
You’re dirty when all you really are is a person who got hurt.
You surround yourself with the other kids who got messed up,
The loners, the abused, the bullied and you mask all thoughts with a fog that makes life better.
You try find a validation in love but it only hurts.
And then when all the broken ones leave and you’re left alone staring into a mirror,
You don’t even recognize the damaged frail person you become.
You crack, and everything comes out.
And finally after all the mental and physical pain you’ve been put through,
You find someone who understands.
You realize that you’re not a freak, an alcho, a junkie,
You’re not a whore or a slut and you’re not dirt.
You realize that the length of your skirt gives no one a right
To look at you with those dark hungry eyes,
You promise yourself that no one will ever look at you like that again.
That person who understands you pulls you out of that fog and takes you to a happier place.
You’ll never forget what happened,
But you’ll be stronger than you’ve ever been before and no one can hurt you now.
The Nuclear Classroom
That teacher always hated me,
With a long crooked nose and a cackle of a laugh,
She looked like a witch.
Her spells were punishments but some got it easy,
Some was most but I wasn’t one of the lucky ones.
The day started off normal in that classroom,
With the blood red carpets and vomit yellow walls,
I was hunched over at my desk, drained like everyone else,
Clinging onto what little life we had left.
The witch screeched across the room pointed at my desk
“Go clean that up immediately!” casting her long pointy finger
At the graffitI on my desk.
I knew the boy that did it too, as he smirked from across the room.
As the creature glanced at me from the corner of her eye
I came back to the class with furniture cleaner,
Just the wrong kind, there was no other.
She shouted even louder as the whole class began giggle.
The witch scowled at me as she went to go look,
Probably from her bubbling cauldron.
I returned to the class empty-handed
But not empty-eared.
The whole class erupted like a violent volcano,
Everyone cried out.
There were no words,
Just a pack of hyenas with their deafening screech
But there was one boy, the leader of the pack,
With the loudest screech of them all as he pointed.
His voiced cackled like no other,
As a toothy grin widened across his face
There was only one thing,
I could not find words,
I marched across that blood red carpet
With the ferocity of an invading army,
As the deafening screeches came to a halt.
I looked him in the eye.
I was already dead.
I latched onto his shirt with the claws of an eagle,
The cackles of the class turned to shouting.
But for a moment,
It was still loud,
But I heard nothing.
When I released my grip the air grew still,
As I walked back to my seat, I knew only one thing.
On that day I had lost,
Confidence and being brave
It’s all just a stage
To play upon depending on your age
To be a teacher or lawyer or a swimmer
It doesn’t matter unless it’s important to you
To grow and develop into a women or man
We don’t need our life plan
Everyone will get there in the end
All we need is one simple friend
When you’re in school
All that seems to matter is vacations
But once you leave all
It seems to be about is qualifications.
Most of us will upset and disappoint
Who is around us with our failures
But they never seem to look
At our saviours to strangers.
We always have a football match in school
During lunchtime it is
We run down to the pitch as fast as we can through the door
We may be friends but when the match starts it’s all-out war
Shouting, kicking, fighting, roaring
I’ll tell you one thing
It was better than our lunch times before when it was boring
One team walked in pride, one in despair
But once the bell goes, there’s no tension in the air
When you are writing an essay for homework,
Your teacher expects to be like a script from dreamworks,
We will all be looking forward to mid-term,
We will get the rest that we deserve.
Most teachers are so strict,
Even when we come equipped,
Even though most students might not be smart,
Whenever in class we learn about Brexit,
The school bell rings and we all leg it.
During lunch times at school, we have a soccer match that’s competitive and rough,
Flying challenges, broken bones, good goals, hardy young fellas and oh its so tough.
It’s like a war zone, bodies falling, people screaming and the competitiveness flowing,
The tension for the 45 minutes is unbearable,
But the losers would be respectful and would start bowing.
But once the game has ended the friendships reunite and everyone is happy after the big fight,
With sweat dripping off the tips of our hairs
We are so happy when in the classroom we see the chairs
Nearly asleep on the table passing out with lack of energy
And in the last class we are barely listening to the teacher,
Because we are just thinking about the next match.
I am a girl,
I never owned a hurl,
I’m not a boy,
To them it’s a toy,
I live my life happy,
Even that seems sappy,
To what I’m about to send,
This has come to an end
I plan to study history,
The result is a mystery.
Living in a town, nothing to do, nowhere to go
Don’t know why am I still here at all
Feels like I’m looking through a window
Looking at the rest of the world fly by without me
If I were to suddenly go, would anyone ever even know
It has it’s upsides, my family, my friends
I can’t live without them, or I’d forever be feeling low
So I suppose in truth I love it, it’s my home and never wanna go
I like tractors there cool useful
And for most people a fun hobby
They can also make you money
I don’t know a lot about them but
I know I like them especially the
There is a lot of opinions about them
E.g. if she aint red, leave her in the shed
Or if she aint blue she won’t do
Or fear the dear
There are all different makes
But all I know for sure is
If she aint red
Leave her in the shed
I’m no good at poetry, I can’t write,
I’ve tried and tried but I’m no good at it,
I’m getting bored and want to stop,
I already know I’m getting into a strop,
My “poetry” has no rhythm at all,
Up to this point, I’ve had a ball,
But for now, I’m so ready to give up,
Toaster, Circumference, Soil, 7Up.
Chicken Fillet Rolls
This is a tale that many have told
About a chicken fillet roll
Put down your bowl, your eggs and bacon.
‘Cause it’s something else that I’ve been craving.
I drag myself out of the bed
To discover that we’re out of bread
All hope is lost ’til I envision;
That a goujon roll is my new mission
No time to talk, no time for a shower
I don’t have time, can’t wait the hour
Off to the deli, fiver in hand
So long as I get there, sure we’ll be grand
I’m in the zone, I’m making the purchase
I thank them for their wonderful service
I’m out the door, can’t wait to get home
To eat my roll while I sit on my throne.
I get back home and set the table
I peel the wrapper, I take off the label.
I scoff down whatever I’m able
Just like a pig, or a horse in its stable.