Notes By: A Broken Heart...

Why Does She Stay? I don't talk when she comes home, I don't kiss her goodbye, I don't comfort her when she's alone, and I'm not moved when she cries.  Yet, she doesn't go away,     why does she stay? I don't say thank you for all she does, I don't tell her I care, I don't tell her what about her I love, I'm barely there.   Still she does not sway,     why does she stay? I don't smile when she's happy, I don't show her any affection, I don't give her what she gives me, I act like she's not my selection.   And she doesn't pack a case,     why does she stay? I don't help her relax, I don't help at all, I don't come when she asks, I'm not there to catch her when she falls.   She's still here 'til this day,     but why, why does she stay? She's so much better than me, I'm so unworthy of her, she's always there for me, no matter...

...this was a dark poem that was written in order to bring light to sexual abuse... Wishin' on a Star Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. "Don't let him touch me," he pleads. He doesn't know how to tell anyone of his stepfather's evil deeds. He stays silent and keeps his cool. He doesn't say anything he knows how to act at school. The teachers don't suspect a thing, he gets good grades, he's an honor student straight A's. He does extra activities and donates all his time. No one knows what runs through his mind.  He buries himself in his work and spends long nights at the library alone. No one knows that he's afraid to go home. The place that's supposed to bring warmth and comfort, he dreads. "You bet not tell no one but God. It'll kill yo' mother," he says. So he stays quiet and takes it. His mother is at work when his stepfa...

This was the first sonnet I ever wrote. It was an assignment for my creative writing class in high school. My Sonnet You sonnet, a diamond flashing around. Yet also a little annoying fly. Oh, sonnet, it is an annoying sound. The way you buzz, buzz, buzz around. Oh why? You are the hardest form of poetry. I strain my brain all day because of you. I use to think my writing came naturally. But I guess I found something I can't do. I will keep on 'cause quitting is not me. You I write because' Ms. Angelone. This sonnet is making me very angry. Writing you I have to do all alone. In Shakespeare a woman's heart you did light. A drop of blood with which a lover writes.

just writing... My Life As I sit at my desk  and think about my life I've been through trials  tribulations and strife. I'm only twenty-two  and I've already buried a parent she left this world  after she became coherent. My father's been locked up   for fifteen years  without him  my life has been full of fears. I've been through  the juvenile and adult justice system It's been hard without them  I truly miss them But my life  I brought upon myself I made my bed and slept in it  with no one else At times I wonder  what life has to offer me? Will there be any joy  in the future for me? Or will I always just be  content with life with my trials  tribulations and strife?

I wrote this in an attempt to tell a story through my poetry. I didn't know what to call this one. Untitled It was an accident, he was only trying to protect his family.  The man broke in with a gun wanting everything. He did what he had to and managed to kill him cold  and now he sits all alone in a cold cell on death row. A tear falls from his eyes,  as he stares up at the sky  and says,   "Where are you in my time of need?      I no longer feel you       walking with me." It was an accident, she was trying to please him.  Though it wasn't about sex to her, she'd submit so he feel like a man. So she did what she had to, to make him happy  and now she carries his seed   and his incurable disease.  Five minutes brought a world of pain  she cries as her health drains. "Am I really alone?   Are you really there?    Do you see me suffering?   ...

Looks Looks can be deceiving,  I know you see my smile but inside I'm grieving Looks, yes Looks can be deceiving  you think I'm happy just because my white teeth are gleaming? Love, what can I say about that?  I guess from my experience I can tell you that's not where it's at. I once was in love you know  I loved once and it nearly destroyed my soul In the beginning I was in heaven  but as time went on I was hurting 24/7 But you wouldn't be able to tell,  that my heaven has turned into hell I was stuck and hooked  and you would think in love because of the way I looked But Looks can be deceiving,  I know you see my smile but did you know I'm greiving? Looks, yes, Looks can be deceiving,  you think I'm happy just because you see my white teeth gleaming All the time I've been hurt and cried  love put me through so much that sometimes I wish I had died. I gave up my life  and my dreams of ha...

I wrote this because I had a lot of self-esteem issues growing up. It seemed that I was the only one because I was a guy. I'd only heard about girls have issues with how they looked so I never really said anything. I became a pretty boy and focused on my looks, everything was about how I looked. I started working out and I stopped eating and I was never really comfortable with me. Half the Price of Beauty I'm hungry, but I don't want to eat I'm okay, it's just my standards I have to meet these facial supplies make my face hurt but they are the only thing that works these close feel uncomfortable to me but beauty is not what can't but can see. I got these expensive shoes and I don't even like them they say only girls think about this stuff, but so do men Half the shoes I wear are not my size, they hurt my feet but that's okay, because it's my standards I have to meet My head is burning from all the chemicals I put in it in t...

In memory of a love and friend ship I thought would forever last. God in Me "It's more than being a woman you see? It's the God in me." I looked at my sister smiling as happy as can be,  wondering why she was so damn happy. Her baby's daddy stopped coming around,  everyday life beats her down. She has to wake up early,  get the kids ready,   starts the food,    gets them off to school      go to school and work       and then do hers and help them with their homework. She has to pay rent,  take them to all her doctor's appointments. But she seems to not care  that everywhere she looks, they're there. There is no rest, no breaks,  or nap to take. She cooks and cleans;  no food? What do you mean? Even when nothing's in the house  she makes sure they have food in their mouths. Even on weekends, she has an early start  and takes them to the park. Ful...

This was also an exercise that I was doing in creative writing. I was supposed to pick and picture and just put words. The picture was of my nephew in a car seat, he was sleep and smiling. A Picture of a Little Boy Gun firing Into blackness Shots firing to the left. Rocks and cigarette buds Litter the ground, As the sun peeks From the right. It is yellow, golden, white, Bright. But it is slowly fading Retreating To some safe place. This world is unsafe, Bad, Evil. So, why take the picture? ‘Cause of something that really didn’t fit Something pure, Set aside from the evil. Hope! Shinning, but shinier than shiny. Bright, but brighter than bright. It was a baby, Smiling oblivious to all around him.

This was done as a writing exercise when I was in high school. It was about my niece. A Little Girl The smile on my face is cute.             But misleading. I am not a cute little lady.             Although I like dressing up. I like getting dirty.             I know all I need to and am a goody, goody, Around people.             Inside I am curious. Rambunctious.             Mysterious.                         And mischievous. But in a good way,             it’s a good way because       ...

This was a poem I wrote when I broke up with my high school sweetheart. I didn't know that I was in love, I was too young minded and so I let her go. I let her go for so many deeper reasons that I wouldn't figure out until I was older and would live to regret it. This is... 2 Naomi When we were young,  I know I hurt you, I made mistakes. It was years ago,  and now your love has turned to hate. I'm sorry,  I know I did you wrong. What you must understand  is now we're grown. The games have to stop  either you'll be with me or you won't. I don't want to play game anymore,  either you love me or you don't. And when things go wrong  and you find yourself on the wrong side of luck who do you call  when tragedy's struck? Everytime you called, I was there,  four thousand three hundred and thirty-seven anytime minutes we talked But you needed me,  I bet you have no idea how much that cost. In the pas...

Me trying to be a revolutionary when I was seventeen. At War Little girls running the streets, little boys packin' heat a war is brewin' a war has started. We act like we don't see, are we that cold hearted? I saw a woman being beat the other day, no one interfered, just looked away I saw a cop sell a kid drugs and say nothing as an old lady was mugged today two little boys were killed in a driveby slain, and cities were destroyed by a hurricane but there is no order, no one cares that thousands of people died out there we spend billions of dollars on a war no one wants to fight while in our own back yard people lose their lives billions on a war in another country, why can't we fight the war at home and let them be it's becoming hard to make an honest living now, why can't we try and lower gas prices somehow? why can't we fix our own country first? All we're doing is making another one worse we say we're trying to liberate, ...

I wanted to tell a tale of love  and so i did #Stuck Stuck It's a pity and I mean pitiful. She was so pretty and I mean beautiful. She didn't know she was all I thought of, I didn't know how to tell her I was in love. Her eyes alone, by themselves, could tear apart a happy home and make your heart melt. Her beauty went beyond her skin down to her soul. I mean, I couldn't begin to explain how beautiful. There is no doubt that her looks is what is told about in story books. She was the cutie people died to get. She was the beauty which launched a thousand ships. She use to be so happy, always singing a song. That is until he came alone. He was a looker, sort of light and that is what hooked her at first sight. It started real good, fun and laughter; she thought that he was her happily-ever-after. But slowly he began to tear her down, stopping her friends from coming around. The next phase you see, in some ways he attacked her self-esteem. He'd call her n...

Heart v. Brain H:  You just don't understand, love's a powerful thing        nothing you can comprehend, see, you don't know the sting         or the joy that it brings when you're with that one- B:  or the pain that you feel when the relationship is done H: You don't understand, it's deeper than psychological        it's something you couldn't fathom, you're way too logical         You don't allow yourself to feel that's the problem at hand,           emotions aren't your departments so- B: hold up man.       Slow down and get a hold of yourself        stressing is bad for your health         it's my turn to talk          I'll do all the thinking and lace you up so you can walk           first off what I don't understand,   ...

What if the left and the right side of your brain spoke to one another? What would it say? What would happen if they needed to talk out a disagreement? That's the place this poem was written from. I wrote two of these poems and I feel one was a hit and one was a miss. This is my miss. Left Right Thinker  RB:  Two times two is four?           Why so? Let's explore. LB: You are so illogical            it's a shame RB: Well you are logically insane LB:  At least I know simple math guy RB:  Are you upset because I'm not afraid to ask why?             Because I like to know the facts? LB: No, I'm mad because your stupidity's an act. RB:  Not once have I called you a name LB: No, but you've still insulted me Right Brain RB: And how is that Left thinker?              Because I'm the side that's pinker? ...

I wrote this poem when I was seventeen. I was sitting around and thinking about the homeless people I see on the streets and I was wondering how they got there. I was wondering what made them really so different than me. And so I wrote this... Just Like Me I saw a man on the corner with one leg and a cane, his clothes were dirty, his hair was filthy; he looked borderline insane. So I drove right on past him like I usually do, and I went and worked until the day was through. On my way from work he was standing in the same place, with his muddy shoes, and tattered clothes, and very dirty face. I went to visit my mother to see what she did that day when I got there she was in the kitchen just a cookin' away. She said she was in a hurry, "they're are so many mouths to feed." She said she was cooking for the homeless and those in need. Then I remembered the guy I saw today. That dirty old man, I started speaking down on him but she stopped me wit...

This was a project at school when I was in the tenth grade. We were supposed to write some type of Sun Poem in my creative writing class. Sun Poem I once felt a cool, very cold breeze, and I curled up to my body trying to preserve it's warmth but I couldn't So I opened my arms and embrace the cool cold air it was so cold as I faced the coldness and felt the pain of the cold air then it stopped I began to not be so cold instead I was warm getting warm then hot and bright I was hot and bright I was the sun