Friday 27 October 2017

IB is the Thing with Feathers

IB is the thing with feathers, that clings to the soul
and screeches the tune with all the words and never stops at all.

- I'm just kidding!

Tuesday 10 October 2017

Self-Made Dreams

A boiling kettle of frothy milk ready to spill over,
Anger ready to burst from the veins,
Dim resignation to life's challenges, 
Mindless stomping through lifeless days,
Quiet contemplation of ending it all,
Fear bursting from hastily-stitched seams,
Too nervous to rhyme properly,
Too busy to properly rhyme,
Fear, fear of living a normal life,
Tired, tired to live an extraordinary one,
Such is the life of a mere 16-year-old,
Barely begun with life,
contemplating termination already,
with all the pressure of self-made dreams.

**
A small piece I wrote on the 25th of May that I was extremely hesitant to post. But hey, in the words of Joseph Reaux, 'Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothesand Sunday clothes are rarely a feast for the eyes, are they? 

In any case, reader, hopefully, I will stop writing poetry positively dripping with teen angst and emotion - it really ruins the vibe of this blog.