The Harvest of Man
We are like a tree,
with different fruits,
They all represent different emotions
Red apples are like anger
Because of its colour
bananas are happiness
Because of its shape
Green apples are like humour
Because of its colour
watermelons are strong
Because of its size
This fruits represent
emotions of being a man
The size and colour
are like us being a man.
Where the Story Dies
In the vast mist of those dull gray eyes
No thought was left behind
This is where the story dies
All the memories are in decline
The one I loved is sure to die.
Being tuff is not me
I am kind and respectful to others.
I do treat everyone with the same respect that I would want to be treated.
Propel think acting tuff and cool is good, But it is truly not. Be yourself and don’t let anyone say otherwise.
If people call you names, Then that is there problem and not yours. If they keep on calling you names, Then talk to someone and at the end of the day, People say stuff sometimes and they don’t mean it.
The lesson is to be yourself, Be kind and respectful to others and enjoy your life
Two Paths
As I walk through the wooded forest
I look up and see 2 paths
I ponder at which one to take
One could be good and one could have my life at stake
It sort of reminds me of real life
Where making decisions impact our lives.
What it Means
When It comes to be a man
I’m glad to be one
But when I’m struggling
I don’t give a damn
You can’t express yourself
As a dog would tell
Because If you do
You go to hell.
Unable to Fight
I am unable to flight
I am can only stay and try to fight
I have no idea how to dance
I wish to live in a trance
Where peace is prevalent throughout the earth
But I lived in a world where life is like a sac of dirt
I can’t change the planet
As 1 person, I can’t fix it all
no matter how good a plan
A Year Ago
A year ago today I turned 15
It wasn’t a happy day
I had lost most of my friends
I had nobody to turn to
No amount of cake or presents
could soothe the pain I was in
I wanted to finish it all.
I turned 16 today.
It was a happy day
I have all of my friends back
I know who to turn to now
I don’t need cake or presents as I have the greatest gifts now.
I turned 16 today
because I knew
My world shouldn’t end
because no matter what
I should always fight
And forever seek the light.
Glimpse
My imagination takes control,
I ignore the truth and play make believe
The life that I percieve isn’t really there,
I believe in things that are impossible
With a glimpse of hope that I can be the person that I admire
But is he really who I should aspire?
To be a Man
Being a man is good,
But some pretend to be in the hood.
Acting tough and getting buff,
But don’t like when things get rough.
People put on this hard man act,
Just for their ribs to get cracked.
People not pretending to be themselves,
Might just end up stacking shelves.
Boys Don’t Cry
If boys don’t cry then why can they drop?
If men should fight , why don’t we kill each other?
If men are supposed to objectify, why do women have souls?
If men are supposed to be sporty, why arent we all athletes?
If I’m not a man, then what’s in the mirror?
Life is like a beautiful dream
life is like dream a beautiful dream
but unfortunately some dreams ends
too quick.
Your dream could come crashing down right before greatness or get it taking from you right before you get to see the full beauty of another dream or you could be the one that that dreams still live one after the death of another
I still remember the day as clear as the sky
it was in august and I had just came back from a day of fun with my freinds but then it all came crashing down as I got dropped off at my grans and my dad was there with some chipper and he asked me do you want some and I of course and then I saw my grans face it looked like the joy of the world was taking from her and then I was told that my anut was in the hospital and that she was not going to be long for this world
I also remember the last time I saw her befpre then hospital before she went into hospital and she started crying crying that her dream would end before she could she us go on and do the great things we were meant to do
Then the last time I saw her alive was a week or two before my brithday and I finally manage to convinced my mother to bring me up to the hospital and up there I saw her on her death and held her hand for the last time ever and found out she was waiting for me calling my name and I finally said my last good bye and love you and walked out of the room knowing it would be my last
Then finally after the bring her casket up after her death I saw the cruttings close which to me signaled her death a cold reality that would never change now and that now my beautiful dream would forever be without her
Man have to be strong
That’s what they say
Who says that
No one knows
They say that’s how it goes
Men can’t show emotion
They call them weak
But after they see what happens
They will be back to themselves in a week
12 days ago
It was me and my girlfriends 10 month anniversary its great out relationship, we have known each other for maybe 2 years total but never really talked to each other but we always knew each other like were kinda were connected in some way.
This year will be our first christmas together and i cant wait for it
The man that I am
Is more than a boy
that is forced to wear the same uniform
as everyone else.
People that try to be different gets
punished weather
|it’s for behaviour etc and the school jsut sits there and watch.
The Needle
I was 10 realised my life would have change completely. I it all started with that feckin’ needle. Just that feeling of it going into my thigh and the sting after the insulin went into your leg and the blood that came after that. One thing that did is screw up a child body image to themselves. I am 15 now still aware that needle changed me life now I stuck with the reality of hating myself and hating my life because I can’t except that I am different to people because I diabetic. That’s not even the worst part if I get introduced to someone you they all say “ this is ….. there diabetic” like what the hell can’t I be the same not know as the diabetic who stabs himself and everyone and school slags you for it, it’s not fair because nobody will talk about it because if your a man you can’t be insecure about yourself because your weak and my view is go fuck off honestly you don’t know my story on how that needle changed me so why are you to judge.
All Bark
I hate when someone thinks there hard as nails but there as soft as snow.
The way women get talked about is also a disgrace ,
this generation of men is a fall from grace.
Women deserve all the love and comfort ,
not to be talked about being a slut
Bright Red Hair
I saw her bright red hair as she walked below the sunset as her eyes sparkle like diamonds, she strode by the river which was crashing against the banks with the water flying down, the autumn leaves lay beneath the trees as they’ve all started yellowing, yet there’s still nice pink leaves that have fallen off of the cherry blossom trees, as I continued to feed the pigeons I thought to myself just how beautiful life can be
The Beach
I was on the beach,
The small town was asleep,
The distant lights from the rides shone bright,
But the the stars were bright.
The splash of waves were low,
How the city lights over the mountains glowed,
However the beach had no light,
At one at night.
The Echo
You are the echo of my days
You are the gentle breeze in the morning,
The first light that illuminates my eyes,
A promise written in the distance,
The sun that awakens in my spoils.
You are the murmur of a quiet river,
The peace that creeps into my thoughts,
The song of a bird that breaks the silence,
My truth, my refuge, my encouragement.
I looked for you in the echo of a sigh,
In the silence of my long nights,
In every dream that I invent by your side,
In every step, in every word.
You are the beacon in my dark seas,
A lit candle in my port,
My compass, my safe point,
My map, my north, my center.
You are that verse that I never wrote,
The melody that dances in my mind,
The image that I keep and that I never lost,
The voice that is launched in my chest.
Sometimes, in my solitude I name you,
And your name resonates on the walls,
Like a song that breaks stillness,
Like the beating of my own being that gives way.
You are the moon that shines in my night,
The star that never goes out,
My eternal sky, my horizon,
The flame that never goes out.
You are the perfume of an endless rose,
The whisper of an enchanted forest,
The wind that caresses my skin,
The time that has never passed.
When I close my eyes, there you are,
Like a dream that I don’t want to let go,
Like the mystery I seek to understand,
Like the secret I want to keep.
You are the rain that wets my being,
The soft caress on my skin,
The silence that speaks in my soul,
The shelter that never leaves.
I think of you and my chest burns
A flame that no one extinguishes,
An eternal, unwavering fire,
That only your name embraces.
You are more than words, that time or place,
You are more than this tangible world,
You are the essence I want to find,
My strongest and most invincible love.
With you my doubts are silenced,
My fears vanish.