A Political Statement

The streets are quiet,

much unlike thunder.

My city old and bold,

quite unlike any other.

Scares and flares

perhaps it’s time we ponder.

We wouldn’t like to be

where riots are ; yonder.

 

My city, so bold and bright,

never much without its light,

we wait by this campsite,

hoping to see it ignite.

Hope, not blood, give us insight,

may light kindle our moonlight.

Now,

sit tight,

starlight,

we’ll know by midnight.

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Out of the River and Into the Water

I remember when I wanted to die

when even the things I enjoyed no longer brought light into my life.

I remember everything I ever built shattering

swept aside into the corner,

glass broken cannot be put back together.

 

I remember popping pills

hoping maybe it would numb the feel.

I remember holding a razor

anything that could maybe hint a flavour.

I remember that small lighter

I had lying in my drawer,

how I would light it and play with the fire.

 

I remember my room

a dark abode,

any sense of light that crept in

I would shut for it hurt my brain, my heart and my soul.

I remember the ringing I had in my head,

the lurching feeling when they were rushing me to the hospital

to see if it was medical,

cars honking and the fast pace, had me unsettled, sick to the stomach I’d face.

The doctor looked at me and said

you’re fine go home, you’ve wasted my day.

 

We drove in silence

me wondering if it was a brand of psychosis

here I am again in the dark room

with no light shining through.

 

I must die to be reborn.

 

I must die.

To be reborn.

In the day of Light

Perhaps in this day

we’ll find a light,

that will shine ever so bright,

and you will come to realise that you’ve won

this so-called battle that you’ve run from.

 

I hope you see that you are worth

much more than Mother Earth

for you are made from her stone

you have it in you,

in your bones.

 

Never forget the day that you are born,

for it is not a day that you should mourn,

instead see in you that you shall warn

the very people that have you scorned.

 

Need you not worry for you are strong,

In this your brethren have sworn.

The Hardest Goodbye Pt. 3

This isn’t the story of a goodbye, instead it is the story of a hello.

A hello to a new beginning, a hello to a new age, a new era.

A hello to a new self.

The brighter, younger, lighter self. The one we’ve always longed for. The one we’ve dreamed ourselves to be.

I think what most of us lack is conviction.

Conviction in the world. Conviction in people. Conviction in ourselves.

Being born in a world where society thrives on people’s hardship and desires can often mislead us into such a perception.

Too frequent do we do things out of need; because it is expected of us, because we have to, because it is a necessity.

Too little do we do things because we choose to.

Too little do we do things because we can.