What is love
When you no longer have it
When you are no longer able
to reach out and grab it
Longing for a certain someone
who’s hundreds of miles away
Sometimes you sit wondering
to yourself, thinking that
maybe you should have stayed?
Hoping that you’ll have the chance
to be reunited once again
Or maybe just see them
Even if it’s just a passing glance
Sitting next to yourself
wondering if they’ll be alright
Staying up, thinking
hard and long
Being deprived of sleep
Almost every night
It never fails. Everyday she is picked on and teased because she is short and skinny. She’s called shorty, short stuff, midget. She is underweight, so people think she’s anorexic. She’s mastered the ability to play it off, but it will always hurt just a little. From school to her home, she can’t escape. She’s nothing more than someone to pick on, right? Just someone to bother when you’re bored. And that’s okay. Because through this she grows stronger. She learned there’s so much more to people than what’s on the outside. Beauty lies beneath the surface. She’s learned who she is a person. So continue to try to tear me down, and I’ll continue to build myself back up.
Blood,
Sweat,
Spit,
Muscular bodies mangled together
Both trying to prevail over one another
Both fighters going in and out
bobbing and weaving
With an occaisonal
right hook here,
a left jab there
And it seems as if both fighters
pants are too big,
because they are fighting over a belt
When I was young at home, I climbed the hillside with my sister and cousins.We tied a yellow rope to the lamppost so we could climb up and slide back down.There was no place on us that wasn’t covered with dirt.
When I was young at home, I spent my days building dams with my aunts and uncles. We looked for salamanders and craw dads to put in our bucket along the way. My parents told me not to get wet, and of course I got completely soaked.
When I was young at home, I rode a mattress around the garden knocking down grass. I played softball until dark with my family. The garden was where I learned how to ride a bike and fly a kite.
When I was young at home, I spent Sundays and Wednesdays at my church. One year I was Mary in the Christmas play and forgot baby Jesus in his manger. During Easter, I found brightly colored eggs scattered everywhere.
When I was young at home, I practically stayed on my Aunt Abby’s back porch. I helped build fires and roast marshmallows for Randy until he couldn’t eat any more. The back porch is where mom put band aids all over me and laughed when I came back for another.
When I was young at home, I sat and listened to my family talk and laugh all night. I never wanted to be anywhere else, for I was surrounded by the people I love the most and that was always enough.
Drive 8 hours to Myrtle Beach
Jam some music on the way there
Stop and get gas
Pack my things into the hotel
Take a walk on the beach
Go wade in the ocean
Lay out for a nice tan
Go back up to the room to get ready
Take a walk on broadway with all your friends
Meet new people
Go dance in Karma
Get shot hundreds of feet up in the air by the Sling Shot
Go shopping with all your friends
And take a late night swim at the hotel
Midnight walk on the shore
Return to bed
Nia, its time to get up. Your gonna be late for school
in the world today,there’s a baby crying,while someone else is falling in love.
somewhere in the worl,there’s a flower blooming,that’s when people believe all things are possiable
there’s an angel dancing on the fluffy,snow white clouds to watch over and to help that flower grow
In the world today someone has lost there life due to a very bad sickness
and,people just dont understand whay GOD has a time for everyone to go home
the power source is getting weaker and almost gone a little child suffer’s
in the cold, dark night
would anyone help him
somewher ei n the world that flower is bloomed and has made difference in someone world,and finally,they believe in thereselfs
The dirt is everywhere,
surrounding the mound where I stand.
The cheers and screams coming from the stand
slowly come to a stop.
I wind up and release
and the batters out.
Once again the crowd is screaming and cheering,
it’s hard to concentrate, but I manage.
One more out and we win.
The pressures on.
It’s time to pitch.
I wind up, the first pitch whirls toward the batter.
The smack of the ball hitting the gloves,
lets me know it’s a strike.
The next one,
a strike also.
The crowds on the edge of their seats,
place back by a disappointing ball.
Then, the ball hits the glove,
and we win the game.
this morning after you leaved me
i was thinking about you
hoping you was doing the same as me
i got to school a few ago,you tell me
“i love you”over text
with two hearts combined,it could change the world
and see how much we’re in love
to dropping rose petals
down a white norrow way
someday soon
waiting for that day
Its just me, the bat, & the ball
The coaches may scream
The players may cheer
The umpire may yell strike one
But I don’t hear nothing at all
Its just silence, and concentration
The pitcher winds in motion and pitches the ball
Theres no ground balls being hit to me,
I don’t have to worry about making a good throw
No eager fans wanting me to make a dive to catch a fly ball
Its just me, the bat, & the ball
I slowly watch the ball as it comes my way
I take a step
Swing the bat
Follow through
I watch the ball soar through the air
Homerun
away in the distance
I can see the gloomy giant coming closer
I tried to run
but in this dream I walked
I can see it, hear it, and feel it
destroying everything in its path
everything was gone in an instant
I know the things I have lost
during that day of epic proportions
But it seems as time ticks away
I lose more
If the dark cloud were a man
and the world a woman
all I would say is,
She fears him
But for the cloud to be so dark
it brings no rain,
a dry dream
sending everything into a miserable drought
Taking, but never giving
But if not for this dastardly cloud
bringing destruction and agony
Where would this writing be?
I would not be writing these lines
We would be having a celebration
because the world would be joyus
But things just don’t happen that way
And with a few strokes of ink,
I retold the tale
of the Dark Cloud
Far in the east
When I was fifteen, I believed the world revolved around me, and nobody else mattered. I believed that the most important thing in life was having the most up-to-date electronics or going out with friends. I believed that I was the most intelligent person in the world, and nobody would ever know as much as I did. I believed I could make a difference. I could be anything and everything I wanted to be: a nurse, a lawyer, a cop. I thought we were rich because I always had what I needed, and I never went without having the things I wanted. I believed that the world was fair, and all people in this world were good people. I thought I knew what hard work was. During the day, I spent my time working at school. In the evenings, I worked two hours helping children with their homework. After working ten long hours on school each day, I came home to a clean house, clean room, clean clothes, a hot dinner, and no mother. She’d just left for her twelve-hour shift at work. When I was fifteen, I thought I knew it all. I knew nothing.
The field is rough, rough, rough
The air is thick to the taste
The sweat running down my flesh
They line the field up with chalk
Intensity begins to build up in everyone
They make the finishing touches
I know the game is bound to begin.
The words came down like a hammer to his heart
He had no clue
He had no reason
Oblivious to all that was around him.
Without a doubt it cut clean through
He had no idea.
Confusion set forth
Shock struck like lightning
I’ve this many times before
The inability to capture the attention of what he is doing.
Unknowingly walking the fine line of fun and hurt
The victim sits by keeping his thoughts to himself.
He suddenly stands up
The others are left in shock.
The food was being prepared
As we eagerly awaited at our table.
Some were calm, some sweaty, some fearing for their lives.
The food came out
Triple atomic wings, hotter than the hottest.
Each piece stared at me with a sinister look
As it looked up from my plate.
On the count of three we took our first bite.
Eating furiously like a hungry dog,
Stopping would only make it worse.
I felt no pain.
Were these a joke?
Then into my third one,
It suddenly hit.
The pain growing and growing
I pushed through.
When I was done I was okay
Until the day after.
My daddy always wanted a talented little girl,
A softball star!
I had convinced myself I wanted to play
and I loved it… At first.
But then daddy stressed the importance of practice, practice, practice everyday.
I was only eight and was doing it for my benefit
Then quickly it changed to me doing it for him, and there was no option for if I wanted to play
I had to
Daddy says he’s only hard on me to make me better.
After years of playing, I finally got burnt out on it
but still
quitting was not an option.
I am now 16 and still stuck with this sport until I’m 18.
And yes, Daddy was right,
being hard on me had made me a great player
but when will he ever understand that these are not my intentions for my future?
PenTherapy 