he is not cut out to live with all of this-
to live while bearing the scars
countless of spears in his chest
yet still breathing
blood all over the floor, returned defeated
every time he went on the war
with a hope that someday a savior will arrive
bearing a sign of peace and not bruises from a father

he collected all his hopes, dreams and wishes
hid them under floorboards of his room
letting them all rest in darkness
while burning in fire that comes from loss

he collected everything he had in himself
every star that was showed him
and when nights begin to bleed memories
they all rose back like ghosts in the fog

he collected every last bit of innocence
it was no longer the way to live
he must abandon the house he lives in
in order to fight something that isn't his

he told his child version to stay quiet
listen the voice through the cracks
silent all the voices from under floorboards
and rest in peace if he can't run away

To have your last name
makes me ill.
You make me so angry
I want to ****!

I hate your voice
and the thought of you.
You were never there
when I needed you!

You're inconsiderate,
you're a lazy slob.
How could you do
what you did to mom?

It's like you don't
even accept me.
What kind of father
can you be?

You're stupid for thinking
that I'd forgive
what you did to me...to mom... to grandma.
How do you live?

Do you regret?
I hardly doubt.
I bet that I'm
the last thing you think about.

Don't lie to me.
I know I'm right.
I don't want you
in my sight!

Stay where you are;
don't bother.
You're lousy - I hate you
You're not my father!!

But that's okay,
you see,
because I don't need
your love!

You've forgotten
me before.
Go ahead...do it
some more!

LOSER! ****! - I hate you
you're not my father,
and guess what,
I'm no longer
your daughter!

To me, you're like an angel, sent by God above,
To cleanse my soul of sadness and fill it with love.
You are my inspiration, and I want to thank you,
For without you, I don't know what I would do.
You've changed my life around
And turned my frown upside down.
You have shown me the way
So that I will never stray.
For this I want to thank you again,
For staying close by and being a friend.
And to end this off, I just wanted to say
That if you need a friend,
I'll be there till the very end.

no one ever taught him how to be a grown up
all he is now a puppet, controlled by dangerous thoughts
that tells him to run towards hill and jump into the valley

freedom is far beyond his reach
he believe his older version was too strong
he had dreams, wishes and knew how to cling with hope

but now everything is rusted
he breathe poisonous air
from his dreams in flames

hope is a devil disguised as a beauty
no one ever told him how scary it gets
he doesn't wish to grow up

is it ethical
if he says he hates his family?
they did him wrong but then the world will say-
"god help this child possessed by the spirit
he's the one in the wrong".

he tries to find a reason to love them,
because he is in debt for raising the man he is now
but then again, they reminds him-
his existence is wrong.

he is not saying he hate his family
if so, then they hate him too
the reason for this is far beyond
this poet's understanding

they also loves him,
giving him a crown of jewels
but imposing something upon him
that was never his to begin with-
to carry the weight of stones they bore.

and the arguments, the words thrown at his prime
it is hard for him to breathe sometimes
he's locked in a dungeon he can't escape

his blood boils in rage
the words out of that man's mouth
were always laced in poison

haunting this feeling was
for someone recovering from a loss
the stars that were glued to his sky
all began to fall down one night
he can't even wish upon them
hoping for a good ending to this story
because each star is a hope he sowed

his blood boils in rage
when that man ever hit him
he can't even stand his ground
so will he even tells his father
that he was not made to be hurt
with the hands that raised him

I am one of many
Small branches of a broken tree,
Always looking to the ones above
For guidance, strength and security.
One little branch trying
To keep the others from breaking away.
Who will fall?
And who will stay?
Now I stand alone,
Looking at the earth through the rain,
And I see the broken branches I knew
Scattered about me in pain.
There are those who have taken an ax
To the root of our very foundation
And who have passed this destruction
Down to every new generation.
If I could take that ax,
I would toss it deep into the sea,
Never to return again
To harm the generations that follow me.
I am one of many,
But alone I will go
And plant the new seeds
Where a beautiful tree will grow.

The roots won't grow, they just won't. The water is tepid and the gnats know this as they hover over it. They buzz around with grand expectations and buzz in anticipation of thriving in such fertile conditions (for water is as life-giving as is soil). Propagated from one flesh to another in hopes of growth. However, the roots just won't take. Slime already grows there. Some gnats may lay eggs, glass jelly sacs, tenderly floating amongst the roots. Soon it all starts to rot, to stink, just the same as before.