Why can't we ******* speak?
This silence seems to go on for weeks.
When noise is what we seek.

Deafening noise we want to hear!
Melodic noises we want loud and clear!
but we sit in silence over here.

Who came up with the word slaughter?
did they think killing things was funny?

Sleep deprived
feeling dead inside
but I'm really alive
and living my life
sleep deprived

I'm awake all night
I'm awake all day
the restlessness won't go away

They think I'm worried
but I'm not
my thoughts are just tied in knots

confusion lingers in early hours
and continues 'til it's late
As my body starts to abate

The inability to sleep is killing
So I sit and write with ink
And caffeine in my drink

Music playing loud
and I'm waiting to be found
and sleep in silent sound

A hierarchy
of hot
or not.
Equality
evolving
or destroying
traditional
beliefs,
a relief
that they're fading.
We're not finisted
there's a long way to go
this mountain of know-
ledge and acceptance
is yet to be conqured.
But we're all climbing,
some still dying.
Falling.
Along the way
because they can't say
that equality
is needed over
hierarchy
and monarchy
in society.

Friends
Someone you trust
someone you can talk to
someone who will accept
I no longer know if I have any
after today
I don't even know what to say
you betraying little *******
I don't know who to believe
you all tell me different stories
and all I need right now is someone to listen

If I wrote something new
Is it really new?
The words
The phrases
Have been used before
To add my own meaning
Or change the perspective
But those words are the same
As what they were before

Beauty comes from within
But I can't picture it without good lighting?
And I don't like going outside
And it doesn't exist in my house

Sometimes I write how I feel inside
Sometimes I write what's on my mind
Sometimes I write how I try to hide
Sometimes I write what to me makes life unkind
Sometimes I write how I try and try
Sometimes I write how I want to die
Sometimes I write how people think I'm quiet and shy
Sometimes I write about time passing by
Sometimes I write what I'm trying to find

I wish I had a path to follow,
a path with trees
and green
not hollow

A summit
that I will aim to reach
a goal which I shall seek
and overcome it

a boat
so I could drift away
and return one day
and if I don't

I will find another way
maybe find myself astray
someday
I'll eventually find somewhere to stay

I couldn't say it...

The sound of silence
is deafening
the loudest sound
is nothing

the sound of silence
isn't quite
this peaceful sound
more like a riot

I remembered the words
but forgot the verbs.
Overall it went well.
Voy a baloncesto
was where I fell.
I can't go basketball, I know
but the rest was fine.
6 minutes of Spanish; I did my time.

First it's a spark
then it's a flame
then you ran away
to avoid the blaze

Why the **** is Spanish so ******* difficult to remember?
The teacher says "it just is! Stay 'til 5:30 tomorrow with the other twenty who can't remember either."
As my head fills with excuses about why school shouldn't be important or why exams should be stopped.
I say "ok" because it doesn't stop the fact that I have a speaking assessment in three days. Then in a year it can be dropped.

3 minutes of pauses between each of the words
but I remembered the ending of the verbs

2 minutes of questions,  maybe more
the pauses could effect my score

1 night left I'm in a better place
the practice showed me it's not a race

hands are shaking
heart is racing
the recording starts
there are no restarts

It's sports day
it should be fun
there's no way
anything could go wrong...

but it did
during rounders my shoulder became irritated due to a previous problems during swimming.
200m sprint well I was put down for 400 but I did 200 instead. All went well I was in the lead from the beginning
but when I finished I wasn't tired like I usually am and was about to pass out.
I was told to sit down but didn't realise what I was on about.
Eventually I got away from the crowd still unable to breathe properly
and threw up, calmed down, nearly passed out with the help of nobody.

Waiting for the other to make the move when they don't want to and you want them to.

Stop acting
like you don't
give a ****;
I know you do.
stop bringing me d
                                o
                             ­   w
                                n
further than I already
am. Don't push me in
the hole I'm f
                         a
                            l
                              l
 ­                               i
                                ­  n
                                     g
in anyway, without your
help. Stop pretending
your life has no meaning
and trying to be like me.
you can smile and be
happy whilst I am still
empty. Nothing makes it
better and you trying to
understand doesn't help.
Just STOP!
You will never get it, you
just puncture; making
things                 worse.
letting                 me stand
with a                 hole in my
body                   and all the
pain but nothing leaving.

Holiday homework
Is like living a dream
Or a nightmare
It depends what kind you mean.

I had the time to do it
5 weeks to be precise
But I just couldn't be bothered
So I'll do it on the last night.

As I start the reading the instructions
And realize there's no cheat way
I put my pen to paper
And realize its going to be a long day.

And others have another week
But my school starts earlier than the rest
And my pen ran out already
This day is just the best.

The sun is out,the sky is clear
something we're not used to  here.

The sun was out
now my face is red
Take a different route
and don't go over Bradford

The sun is back
and it shines
an attack
on my eyes

******* sun
stop seeping through
the clouds are back
but so are you

Hands are shaking
breathing is deep
the anger is taking over me
writing feelings on a blank sheet
insanity creeping in I cannot speak
this language seems foreign to me
the one I use everyday of the week
my body trembels
feels strong but weak
no control
in how I act
cold shivers run down my spine
as emotions are running high
no control over anything
when the anger is taking over me

This tremble in my hands
and the aching in my muscles
but the taste of blood in my mouth
causes me no trouble

no defending
just attack
the taste of blood
the aftermath

this fight
I probably won
but the taste of blood
lingers on

Savage teachers
education preachers
their "funny" jokes
and words that provoke
a reaction from the class
won't make us fail or pass
but they keep us entertained
they should have been comically trained

Emptiness
isn't loneliness
or sadness

it's not a feeling
feeling nothing
it's feeling something
that something's nothing

it's a pain
that drags you down
it's suffoca'in'
an attempt to drown

it controls how you feel
so controls nothing
yet somehow
controls everything

it's not a feeling
feeling nothing
it's feeling something
that something's nothing

it follows, it hollows
**no meaning, to being

.

No one wanted to talk to the girl who's arms were covered by sleeves,
ashamed of what she had done; she wished not to be seen.
Instead of seeking help, she continued to cut;
after all her life was going down and seemed to have no possibility of going up.
Starving herself daily: she thought she would never be good enough.
She knew life was hard but never thought it would be this tough.
Everyday she was a victim to the same
"oi you! you really let yourself go, you're insane!"
"you're crazy" they said as she was pushed to the ground.
For she was the queen of helplessness; she had just been crowned.
Growing ever so slowly timid as she lay in the rain;
this wasn't the first time and she knew it would happen again.
So she rolled up her sleeves and cut deeper than ever before:
the pain grew more and more.
Damaging herself as she grew weaker than weak,
as her existence grew evermore bleak.
She counted down the days until she choose to go.
She would leave before anyone would stop her, no one cared, no one would know.
She wrote a note, it didn't say much
other than how she hated herself and to help: they couldn't do as such.
She disappeared the next day into oblivion;
gone was her life and no one was there to stop it.

Is created in conversation

there's a hole in my heart
and its growing
there's a hole in my heart
only words will fill
there's a hole in my heart
and I'm calling for help
there's a hole in my heart
and my screams are silenced by my  head
there's a hole in my heart
and it'll grow if nothings said
there's a hole in my heart
and soon I'll be dead

Roses are red
Violets are blue
This is as cliché
As it's possible too.

Wherever you were
Born and bred
Your clichéness will be
Ripped to shreds

Long story short
It's been said before
It's not a *one in a million chance
That when it rains, it pours

Or practice makes perfect
It's said all the time
I'm sick and tired of these clichés
They're really difficult to rhyme

Only time will tell
So be careful of what you're reading
'Cause everything happens for a reason
And looks can be deceiving

So if I think outside the box
And all dreams can come true
Then the use of a cliché
Would be enough to **** you

But if you're lucky enough
To have *played your cards right
This could be the first day
Of the rest of your life

Everything is perfect,
everything goes well
but when it doesn't
the world turns to hell.

Everything is bright,
nothing out of place
but when something does
it causes an earthquake.

Everything is happy,
nothing's ever sad
until something goes wrong
then it's really, really bad.

Everything is great
unless something is wrong with it;
then what was great
is absolute ****.

Everyone aims for the same thing.
They just have a different things to do that with.
Whether it be music, sport, writing or whatever else.
We all have something, physically or not.
Most choose not to use the things they are have.
They try to use what others have.
Take what makes them unique and for most it leads to both having less.
Because although inspiration is good.
Taking that thing one person has and spreading it umong many.
Makes their thing have less value than everyone else's.
Making their thing cliché.
But does them doing their own thing makes them the original cliché? Or just a cliché because they have nothing original to them? Because everyone else took it.

Sometimes in life we all strive
but never think of the other side.