Hazed

School is supposed to be fun they say,
Yet I just spend time trying to keep my tormentors at bay.
Always fearing the bullies around the corner,
Preying on those they deem a ‘Loner’.

Passing through hallways trying to be a ghost,
Not to invoke the anger of those who boast,
About the pain and anguish they cause,
Not once do they think for a minute, pause.

Kicking and screaming I’m dragged to hell,
Always subjected to the same torturous cell.
While others tremble for their mundane beliefs,
I fear the children you see playing under the trees.

They corner me in class, boisterous laugh,
Hoping to be saved by a winged seraph.
Can’t be brave anymore, waiting to be set loose,
Maybe I should heed the dark calling of the noose.

Exonerate

 The flow of words has come to a halt,
Swirl of vocabulary has stopped with a jolt.
No rhyme nor reason to explain why,
The feeling of the poet has left me dry.

Digging for the verbs that might beautifully rhyme,
To create a poem that is utterly sublime.
However the search has been proven a waste,
For the inner sonneteer has left in haste.

And then the idea struck like a flash of light,
To jot down words that could explain my plight.
Write about the unyielding block itself,
And create magic with adjectives that speak for themselves.

Thus this piece of eloquent art was born,
Truth and patience from where it is shorn.
Maybe now the letters will come like a breeze,
Oh who am I kidding ? The life of a poet is never one of ease.

Tessellate

Image Courtesy:www.origamitessellations.com

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Change your very being to blend in
Not be colorful while the rest have pale skin
Ignore the crow’s calling to sleep with doves
Maybe then you will find true love.

Love of being accepted into to the idea of propriety,
Bearing the dark mark of a disheveled society
Vanish into the constant pattern of in-numerous nobody’s
Trapped in the array, mind fervently fuzzy.

Cut the sides, smooth the edges
To fit right in, resignation you must pledge.
The fear of being an outcast far too great
Sink into the mould as triangles tessellate.

Is this the wondrous utopia you had dreamt ?
An atrocious life where you are unnaturally bent.
Maybe you were never meant to fit the “mould”
But instead to be your true motley of silver and gold.

Trauma

Image Courtesy : neladunato.com

A blank stare welcomes my visage
Deep in my heart, hoping its a mirage
Fingers trace scars that now replace beauty
Once was grace now nothing but ghastly

My reflection gifts me with a face that is shaken
A constant reminder of everything that was taken
Bloody tears well as I fall to the floor
A cry as I crave heaven’s opalescent door

I tried to move on but the dark pushes me back
Nightmares hell bent on pushing me off track
Sickness takes over my dreary waking hours
While the face that is no more plagues the time of stars

All I can do now is just live
Smile and make pleasantries to all my kin
Maybe one day someone will finally see
Maybe someday i will eventually be free