She Is She is beautiful and strong She is everything yet a wall She is tired and stressed Her heart beats in her chest She overthinks to ruin the good things But she is on a string She is coping but barely People can be scary She is beautiful Anon Remember Remember that one kid?
Plague of Shadows It creeps, it crawls, and it yearns for the fear in the hearts of men This is how it finds some purpose in it all It comes without warning, a virus, That one instinctively dreads What does it hunger for, what does it exist for? It wants to be remembered, to be
I Try I hate the doubt, the negativity, the judgement, I hate the fear, lack of belief, presumptions, People look, people stare and people don’t care, People fail, give up, give in, and worry, But not me I try, I fail, I try again, I don’t give in, I try, try again, I fall, collapse,
Why does it Matter? Why does it matter? Why does it matter if you look good or you’re pretty or you behave well and ladylike? Why does it matter if you are white, black, mixed race or Asian? Why does it matter if you are straight, gay, bi, trans or anything and everything in between?
Golden Sun The golden sun glistens on the morning fields, It’s rays nourish the green grass below, Illuminating the heavenly blue above, Where the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds. This land holds a stream that summers down into the lake, Yellow hues ripple in the water, Cascading shadows on the pebbles below,
The Bitterness of Reality Who are we? What are we made of? Who do we have to tell us whether we are write or wrong? Who do we have to look up to for inspiration, or anyone who has sang their song? I’m just a man, Full of goals and dreams, To others it’s not
Concrete Graveyard We live our lives Where we spend our time Slowly wasting away Where creativity is strangled Like the night that swallow the day Where apathy and contempt is bred In a coffin for a bed This is where we waste away Beneath these skies of concrete grey Dara Doody Revolution The spark that
Different Different because I play a sport that none of the other girls play, Different because I don’t like going to discos or on nights out, Different because I would prefer to wear leggings and a hoodie than dresses and heels, Different because I don’t drink at 15, Different because I have common sense not
Be You Life is weird. It’s like a never ending rollercoaster, Ups and the downs, round and round. But why do we stereotype? Why do we judge people for being themselves? Why can’t we just be unique and be different? Is it because we are scared of being judged, Or is it simply because we
Candlelight It’s surrounding me, Closing in on the flame of my delicate candle, One wrong move or misdirected breath and Its lights out. It claws at my skin, whispering in my ears, Its hot breath tickling my neck. I push it away or try to at least but it Doesn’t work like I hoped, In