Version of You
How can I learn to ever trust or to love again
After how much you’ve hurt me
And after how stupid you made me feel.
But one day, I will wake up and for once, for the first time ever
You won’t be my first immediate thought, and for that day,
Will possibly be the best day of my life.
I will finally be able to move on without feeling guilt,
No matter how hurt you made me,
I will never regret anything
Because I thank you,
You taught me how to love and taught
Me how to accept pain,
I thank you for breaking me so I could learn
How to put the pieces back together.
Everything I see reminds me of you
A bottle of Lynx in the window of a chemist
Grey chinos on a manikin
A pair of Nike runners
And I am immediately transported
Back to one of the many
Many times I’ve had my heart broke
Over and over by the very same
We are condemned to this war
Everything comes crashing down
Until everything is dust, ash…
I thought that I was free, but it is not true
We are tied to our past
Although the past is a distant spec
On a forgotten horizon
Since we are what we were
And we were what we are
There are things that I love,
But not you, for example.
There are things that I would risk,
But not for you, for example.
There are kisses that I will always remember,
But not yours, for example.
There are sacrifices I would make
But my heart is not one of them
Estela Alis Torello
In the world where we live
Exists a society
Where you cannot be yourself
And you cannot think by yourself.
The eyes are for looking,
The feet to walk,
The tongue to taste,
Why we can’t be all equal?
The boy must be strong
The girl must know how to cook
And what happens if a boy likes the dolls?
Is he gay?
No, he is amazing.
If someone studies a lot,
He/she is a nerd.
If someone doesn’t like the same things as others,
He/she is geek.
If someone doesn’t party,
He is boring.
Why does all this have to happen?
Because of society.
Your life is like a blank page
Starting pure and clean
It slowly fills up
With everything loving and mean.
Paragraph one is full of curiosity, joy and play
It creates beautiful writing and has structure to everything it may say.
Paragraph two brings some tears and new things but everything is great to be seen
It has a few scribbles and bumps but remains tidy and clean.
Paragraph three… Splat!
The page becomes messy, it brings trouble and confusion
The world starts to tell us how to behave creates a terrible illusion.
Onto paragraph four, which I yet have to explore
I’m sure my page will get messier but I have much more to learn,
I have to grow, make my page more detailed and open another door!
Why Do I Always Run?
I run and run
I don’t know why.
I run without looking left or right,
A smile made from stone.
My heart tells me to stay,
My head keeps me going.
When the heart screams
The head shouts,
Is there a grey zone?
Is it all black, all white?
Not the first time,
Not the last one.
The same history repeated every night
And next morning, like nothing happened.
With no warning, nothing
It broke her heart, but she could not let it show
She couldn’t show her children any weakness
She had to keep her 3 jobs,
She had to keep food on the table,
She had to keep them safe.
Her only son he was on the streets
She didn’t know if he was alive or not,
But that wasn’t the worst of her problems,
She had to focus on the children
She was certain were alive, at least for now,
Her eldest daughter was 15 and working 2 jobs,
No 15 year old should be living a life like this.
She wanted her daughters to live a better life than hers
A few years past and she was at the funeral of her second oldest daughter
He was nowhere to be seen, not even for his own daughter’s funeral,
Her eldest daughter had a child of her own now, a girl.
15 years later and she has a dead daughter a son fresh out of rehab,
And 8 grandchildren.
Although the past still haunts her
She is grateful for everything life has given her,
Doesn’t regret anything or hate anyone for the life she’s lived,
I never have or will admire a woman more than I admire my grandmother.
I wake up every morning,
Strain my eyes
Through the shrill scream of my scratched name
Trying desperately to find a reason
To force myself from bed,
Into to a world of forced smiles
A million thoughts hidden behind
Back to hell, the buzz of my phone
An ever ringing alarm, searing pain
What will it be now?
Let’s go halves on a bag,
Let’s get yokes, come out for a fag
And the voice inside my head says do,
It will stop the thoughts for a while
I strain my eyes
Emily Lawless Greene
From a lad to a dad
Whose childhood was terrible and tried his best
To make sure that history didn’t repeat itself
A mother he never got on with, nor a father,
He made sure his daughters were his best friends.
At the age of 12 I had a father not a dad,
A human who never cared about his family.
Spent most of his life in the pub
The only time I would see him is late
When the world went numb.
His daughters got into sport
Little did they know they were quite good.
He grew a passion for the sport
Changed his life, turned things
He always there on and off the pitch,
He’s my no.1 supporter.
Tears Fall Down
Tears fall down his shapeless face
Screams of terror from stories told too late
Fists imprinted on exposed brick walls
The stench of alcohol from bathroom stalls
White lines and green leafs fill the air
From a boy who was handed everything but never seemed to care
Never thought about money or a job
Cause when you have a mother and father like his all he has to do is sob
Sounds of whaling from his mother become something too familiar
With stress from her dysfunctional family being the trigger
With constant slam of doors from a father whose had too much
Drinking his own weight in alcohol for support like a crutch
Their own demise was that they didn’t know how to talk to each other
They thought they couldn’t trust or rely on one another
So instead they became people suffocated by their own thoughts
Living like a bunch of ropes in continuous knots
The joy of smartphones
Silence, Music, reading, “pling!”
Reading, thinking, texting, sing,
Oh how dreadful this might be,
Why is there no time for me?
Reply as fast as possible,
Not to make them worry.
Share their pain, their bothers,
There’s no reason to be sorry
Your own don’t matter they don’t care,
What good would it bring you to share?
Stay in line just please don’t move
Otherwise you will only lose.
I May Have
I may have two parents that love me,
I may have good grades,
I may have the best of friends,
I may seem like I have it all,
But maybe I don’t,
Maybe I’m sad,
Maybe I’m insecure,
Maybe I’m just having a bad day,
So don’t be so quick to judge,
Just ask me if I’m okay.
The internet is one of my best friends.
I know for a lot of people that seems like a very sad thing to admit.
But I have never laughed and cried with something so much.
It’s always there for me to relate too and when no one else is.
I can trap myself inside this world for hours on end.
When life gets bleak and when there’s nothing left I can always turn to them.
I can watch movies totally legal with you,
Listen to great music and then steal it from you.
But I can’t be the only one who feels like this…..
The internet is one of my best friends and I’m proud to admit it.
Violetta Vasina Sharp
We are taught that the day is beautiful
That the sun is wonderful
We are taught that the night is sacred
That the moon and the stars are full of secrets
We used to paint orange and yellow suns
Cause blue and purple suns don’t exist
We used to paint white and grey moons
Cause pink and brown moons do not happen
What they didn’t taught us is that the very beautiful thing
Is being a rainbow
Girls in Sports
They say we have no skill
As we get prepared to kill
They say it’s not very ladylike
Watch us play and then take a hike
They say we’re not strong and tough
But I have had enough
Stop saying we’re fragile or delicate or weak
Because each and every one of us is unique
Just because we don’t sit at home and paint are nails
WE ARE ALL STRONG AND BEAUTIFUL FEMALES
Every single day you give out to your students,
How would you like it if someone gave out to you for every little mistake you made?
You expect us to be happy every day and ready to learn,
But you make us not want to come near you and dread your class all week.
You see us as “students” and not people with actual feelings,
You expect us to be fine with you shouting at us and then go crazy if we say it back to you.
So this is a message to teachers who think there better than the “students” they teach,
Think twice, because children are the future.
He estado leyendo mis diarios
He estado leyendo sobre mi pasado con una gran sonrisa en la cara
He estado leyendo la palabra ” papa ” ‘te quiero” en todas las esquinas del cuaderno
Y no me preguntes porque
Pero te quedaste enganchado a mi corazon.
Te quedaste enganchado en mis virtudes y defectos ,aprendidos de ti
Y despues de leer todo solo pienso en que ;
Me gustaria devolver el tiempo
Para verte de nuevo , para darte un abrazo
Para tomar el tiempo como un punto de partida de todo lo que vivimos
Para sacar de ese tiempo la experiencia , para no cometer los mismos errores .
Para poder decirte una y mil veces mas lo que nunca te dije
Para poder continuar escribiendo mis suenos
Pero contigo a mi lado
Carla Garcia Fernandez
I Miss You
I don’t know why you left us
I miss you so much
Wherever you are
Only let me know how you are
I hope you remember us
One day we will meet again
I’m in love with summer
Time to relax and take off your jumper,
All day at the beach
Eating a peach,
Hang out with your friends
And play different games,
See the sunset,
Try new adventures
Please come back,
I miss you summer.
I want this
I want that
I want everything you got.
Alright maybe just some Gucci
Handbags, shoes, coffee, sushi
I want to waste my time in shops,
Splashing cash until I drop.
I want to swipe my card all day
Hauling bags along the way.
I’m a shopping junkie on a spree
Shopping hard till I OD
I love to play the fiddle,
But I hate competitions,
I really love to win,
Winning is my mission
Music brings me peace,
I’d love to play in Greece,
Trad is my passion
But it’s sort of out of fashion.
I love to go to sessions,
And the fiddle is my obsession.
I am a boxer
I’m a southpaw
I am the light in someone’s day
I am small but that’s a good thing
I am athletic in my way
I am ginger
I am happy
I am sometimes
A small bit shy
But most of all
I am me
So there’s no reason
To ask why
Why Can’t I?
Why can’t you??
Why can he do the things I wanna do??
He’s stronger and I play weak
At least that’s what society tells me to do
How can I be different when he tells me not to be
I’m confused, I’m puzzled,
But if you ask him he’s an ass to you.
Anda Linda Linde