Tribute to Left Eye ღ

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Left Eye was my musical inspiration. I didn’t try to copy her style, but her tough as nails, “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” style made me rethink my inspirations for my music, writing, and poetry.

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No More Girls

Dress on
Hair down
Good girl off.
Ready to shrug off hearts
Hand them to you by a string.
I’m finally growing
A young cub
Now a budding lioness
Ready to hunt.
No love-lorn looks
No more pining
Pouting
Waiting.
I don’t need your fake love,
Your fleeting affections,
Your pitying gazes.
I’ll go it alone
Proud,
Strong,
Confident.
I don’t need a man
To make me be a woman.

Soldier

Stoic
Tears running down my face
As I march past.
Forcing away emotions.
Alive,
Never living.
Ready to take the bullet
So that someone else can smile.
Biting my tongue,
Biting the bullet,
Biting the dust.
Fighting for others,
Never going to war
To keep what I want.
Giving in
To the sound of the bomb
Soaring above me
To me
At me.
I’m not a very good soldier.

Mirror

Mirror mirror
In the sea
What happened
To make me lose me?

Mirror mirror
Before my eyes
Is losing myself
A real prize?

I try to please
Everyone else
Forgetting that I matter too.
I stay silent,
Nod and smile,
Use fake emotions
To hide the screams inside.
Some might think
My pain ain’t real,
But they’ve never had
The still bleeding scars
That I feel.

Mirror mirror
Dying quick
Where was help
When I needed it?

I’m Back

Wow.

I just realized that the last time I made a substantial post was last November and my last poem was July.

I have been busy.

Rest assured, though, I will be back this year. See, I’m graduating next  year and the stress is starting to get to me. So my options are either to write or to go into the woods to scream for ten minutes (though that would be suspicious, too).

Tears in Life

[Song: Chasing the Sun by The Wanted]

They guide my fears
They watch my tear streaks.
For all our problems,
They always want to blame me.
A scapegoat,
Can’t escape the responsibility.
They never care
As long as they’re not scared, but me.

He doesn’t see others,
He only sees me.
He says that I’m the problem
But never that he hates me.
He claims love,
Yet always discriminates.
The youngest get his love,
The older are too late.

I never wished for much,
But can’t you see me?
Love has always meant so much
To me.
I’ll always love you,
As you can see.
But I don’t think you’re good for me.

I love you, Daddy, but I can’t be near you anymore.

I love you family, but I see that I’ll never truly have your support.

I’ll drift along alone, looking for that special one.

And maybe then I will see the real sun.

Ave Atque Vale.

The Life of Me

I once thought that I was a nomadic/hermit type person. I don’t particularly enjoy human interaction. I hate being around disrespectful people.

But I’ve realized something.

My dad just told me that I can’t go out and hang with my friends or go to dances. I’ve been to one dance. All of this because I made a mistake with scheduling my pick-up from the movies. My dad wants to make me alone because he thinks that I don’t value God enough. Truth: God is the most important figure in my life. More important than my dad. I don’t know if Dad knows this. I hope he does soon because I’m done. I’m getting through high school and college, and then I’m never coming back to my parents. I love them with my whole heart, but I hate neing alone and neither of my parents understand me at all. My mom is better about it, but my dad is just outright inconsiderate. He acts rashly and doesn’t consider the feelings of the other party when making decisions.

So I’ll stay locked up in my room for two years. I won’t leave it. Because this is basically what my dad wanted. He just didn’t realize that. But I’m not going to be his little puppet after that.

I can’t be alone. So I won’t.

Boredom is a disease.
Zaniness is the cure.

Shadowhunter’s Rhyme: Color Scheme

Black for hunting through the night

For death and mourning the color’s white

Gold for a bride in her wedding gown

And red to call enchantment down.

White silk when our bodies burn,

Blue banners when the lost return.

Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,

And to wash away our sins.

Gray for knowledge best untold,

Bone for those who don’t grow old.

Saffron lights the victory march,

Green will mend our broken hearts.

Silver for the demon towers,

And bronze to summon wicked powers.

— Shadowhunter children’s rhyme

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Aside

So there I was in church yesterday. The Nigerian Catholic Community was doing a joint mass with the American community of one of the churches I attend.

The choir was a combination of Nigerians and caucasians and so are the songs. And there I was dreading how people might have started insulting my people’s music or saying that it didn’t seem appropriate for church. One of the ladies just turned to me from the choir stand while listening to my mom sing and smiles at me. And I had an epiphany.

Many stereotypes still exist because we expect them to. Black people expect others to downgrade them in society and underestimate their capabilities. They expect to be looked down on, so that inevitably occurs. We expect these circumstances, so we don’t always try to do our best or to overcome racism or stereotyping. Looking at some of my black friends, I think that we’re trying our best to make ourselves what we want to be. But then I look at black kids from other schools: some are doing drugs, others are getting drunk, and others act deplorably.
It makes me so disappointed in us as a race that we teens are acting this way and many parents allow it, yet we get upset when policemen do their duty. Granted, there are some who step out of line and abuse the power given to them. However, many just wish to be upstanding citizens and enforce the law so that others will be, too. I don’t believe that all policemen should be terrorized for the mistakes of the few, especially since we ourselves are doing so little to avoid the incidents from occurring.

It’s parents’ jobs first and foremost to be policemen and to keep their children from committing acts that will get them in trouble with the law. It’s our job as a race to do everything right in order to create racial equality. It’s our job as a people to not complain over our little hardships when others in this same great country suffer more. It’s our jobs to work for what we get and to take responsibility for our mistakes in life. It is not a right to have what we have; it is a privalege and an honor that we must respect.

Before we talk about equality for the people we need to better the quality of the people.

Boredom is a disease.
Zaniness is the cure.

Stereotypes begin at Home