Tears fell to my pillow as I thought
about the way my life has changed.
People and places I once called home
were quickly gone and left me pained.
I see the stars, just like before,
but things just aren’t the same.
I can’t explain just what is different;
it’s a strange thing I cannot name.
My room, my cage, my shallow grave,
the place I avoid throughout my days,
calls to me, it beckons me
to give in to anger’s ways.
“I hate my life, I hate the world!
I wish it would all go away!”
Those words are what it wants from me,
those words I’m supposed to say.
I don’t care about that dreary place.
It never appealed to my mind or heart,
but still I wish for just this once
I hadn’t fallen apart.
Tag: Published
currently published and available in a book for purchase
I Just Wanna Go Home [poem]
I hear the echo of my own cries,
and I feel the tears fallin’ from my eyes.
I’m seein’ clouds over my blue skies,
and I just wanna go home.
I don’t have friends in this town,
so when I walk, I keep my head down,
and my gaze stays on the dry ground,
and I just wanna go home.
Everything I touch always seems to fall,
and I wonder if it was ever there at all,
because right now I feel so god-damned small,
and I just wanna go home.
Seagull [poem]
Just like a seagull
I flew by the sea,
being myself
because I was free.
I thought that all darkness
was conquered by light;
I thought that everything
would always be right.
Then, one day,
I fell from the sky.
My wings were clipped;
I could no longer fly.
Soon boxed up,
I was shipped away.
Far from the sea
I was forced to stay.
I know one day
I’ll again be free.
I’ll return to my place
next to the sea.
Good Enough [poem]
I listen to my parents
and try not to talk back.
That’s good enough for everyone else…
but why isn’t it good enough for me?
I attend my classes
and do my work on time.
That’s good enough for everyone else…
but why isn’t it good enough for me?
I don’t get in fights
and I don’t cause a scene.
That’s good enough for everyone else…
but why isn’t it good enough for me?
I put aside my dreams
and wait patiently for my day in the sun.
That’s good enough for everyone else…
but why isn’t it good enough for me?
What isn’t it good enough for me?
Girl in the Mirror [poem]
I look regularly into the mirror in the bathroom.
There’s a girl, lonely, alone.
That girl has eyes that have seen too much,
ears that haven’t heard enough.
Pain to her is never ending,
for love and truth have become rare commodities.
She reaches out, hoping to find what’s missing,
but she only grabs a handful of air.
I pity her, for she doesn’t know how much she’s worth.
That poor girl hasn’t been shown
that she is important and she is wanted.
In her heart, she knows that others care,
but her roots haven’t been allowed to grow.
Instead of being anchored and having a home,
the girl is like a dirt-devil spinning out of control.
Who will tell her what she needs to hear?
I don’t know. But, for now, I try to comfort her.
You see, that girl needs my support;
otherwise, her world would tumble to the ground.
That girl finally has a friend that will never leave,
and one that will always tell her the truth.
I am that girl and she is me. And we will survive.
Look at Me [poem]
Look into my eyes.
Do you see a girl or a woman?
A troubled teen or a tired adult?
Am I laughing or crying?
Am I innocent or jaded?
Am I strong or weak?
Look into my mind.
Do you see a genius or a fool?
An intelligent student or a naive child?
Am I bright or thick?
Am I popular or ethical?
Am I wise or smart?
Look into my heart.
Do you see a light or a shadow?
An open field of dreams or a cracked wall?
Am I wild or tame?
Am I joyous or broken?
Am I in love or in pain?
Look at me.
Who am I?
If I can’t tell, then how can you?
The Used [poem]
I know myself
as one of the used,
scars abound,
tissues bruised.
I leave the wounds
and let them bleed;
I let guys use me
to fill their need.
Some need love,
and others, lust.
Some want friendship,
others, trust.
But some leave cuts
that slowly heal.
I wish I knew
just how to deal.
Fake [poem]
I’ve written poem after poem
my heart still has no home
losing my ground
what was it for?
who was it for?
it goes around, comes around
life’s too complicated
no one’s ever sated
stupid lies
cuts and drugs
whores and thugs
all dying deep inside
hope is frail
what does that entail?
struggle on
someone out there
someone to care
they’ve been fake all along.
Not Worth Fighting [poem]
Why clutter a page
with words that make a haze
when all I feel is a broken heart left dying?
I struggle to find love
and ask the Ones above,
but the answer is “go find it on your own.”
How can I do so
when no one seems to know?
maybe it’s a battle not worth fighting…
I Write Poems [poem]
I write poems to cleanse myself
of agitations, degradations
of the balance of my heart
and of my mind.
I write poems to find the answers
to my questions, your suggestions
on the changes I should make
or ask to see.
I write poems as an expression
of my loneliness, depression
felt as I’m left all alone,
yet I survive.
I write poems so I can live.
They’re like air, and they share
a life-force that I want
and that I need.
Clearly [poem]
When I’m feelin’ bleak,
I seek
to write a poem.
Lyrics,
poems,
they mean to me more
than others see.
They make me feel what they feel.
They make me real.
If only someone else could see me
clearly,
if only someone else could see me.
Poetry to Me [poem]
What’s poetry to me?
It’s the blood that flows in my veins.
It’s the song that plays through my heart.
It’s the tears that slide down my cheeks.
It’s the deepest thought in my mind.
It’s the darkest side of my spirit.
It’s the voice of my soul.
It makes me whole.
Words [poem]
Words flow through my mind and onto the paper.
I spend minutes trying to explain concepts
that have existed for centuries.
Love, hate, fear, hope…
they seem too complex for most people,
but when I think of them all, I can almost hear a faerie
whispering their meanings into my ears.
Why try to complicate life?
Why not just let things run their course?
I haven’t been through much,
but I’ve been through enough to teach you something.
Life is never perfect.
No matter how you act, someone will tell you you’re wrong.
No matter what you do to avoid it,
someone will end up causing you pain.
The only way to live life is to see it through your heart.
Look at the motives behind the actions,
the meanings behind the words.
Pay close attention to how you let yourself feel.
You can hurt only yourself.
I’m not trying to say that you can’t
save yourself some hardships.
What I’m trying to tell you is that
things don’t have to be anything
but what you want them to be.
If you don’t like something, change it or cope.
Don’t waste your time or others’ complaining.
Words without action will always be words,
but actions without words are a language of their own.
Larissa Lee 