The Periphery of my Vision

No, we are not JUST teens.
We are a movement.
A force.
And when we are compelled,
We will revolt.

Let us be who we want to be.
And you just might be left in peace.

We are imperfect.
Boy, do we get that.

We have a lot to experience, you say.
I guess it could be the case.
But we just can’t comprehend that.
Because the whole world just seems to be antagonistic toward us.

Do not restrain us.
Just let us pretend we can predominate the world.
That feeling.
It fills up the craters in our personalities.

Before another encumbrance is hurled toward us.
Oh, leave us.
Leave us be.


Sometimes you start writing something and you just keep writing not knowing where those words are coming from and suddenly you’re done and you take a step back and you realize what you created (just like I created this run-on sentence and only now did I realize)




Woke up. Saw it. Took it.


Took time. Sacrifice required. Goal prospered.


Religious hatred. Stay strong. Not long.


Deep inside. Remains here. Should stay.

And so should dignity.


Only a few may know.

Tick Tock


Trying to keep it in our hands
Like a thirsty child holding water
Slipping through our fingers
Time is precious

We take advantage of it
Not realizing the fact
That some of us have less time
And some even lesser than that
Time is precious

Don’t waste a single drop of it
Make the most of how much you have left
Use it all up wisely because
Time is precious

We’re all here today
We won’t be here tomorrow
Since we’ve got time right now
Lets stop complaining about our sorrows
Because time is precious

A poem that I was forced to write in 15 minutes in class. No editing, no revising, not even reading it over and I’m going to leave it just like that.


Who has created this piece of art, so intricate and detailed?

Who took the time to form each delicate tentacle?

Who made this beautiful creature, so fragile yet so venomous?

With each breathtaking movement, as she drifts with the current,

With no brain, no heart, no blood,

How does she make ones heart stop, with a single touch?

Be careful, be careful

Don’t be fooled by the beauty

This creature may seem delicate

But beneath lies its poisonous sting

—At the Vancouver Aquarium.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Careful.”

Safe Place

When I feel like escaping to nowhere
Tired of the demons chasing me away
And the cruel world seems very unfair
Torturing me every hour and day

When my self-hatred gets the best of me
And I feel like laying down and crying
The inclination to drown in the sea
Resisting the urge; the pull. I’m trying

When the whole world seems to be against me
And I just feel like leaping to my death
I think of your innocent face and cease
The thought comes back with the last of my breath

‘Cause being with you, I feel the bravest
Wrapped in your arms is where I feel safest

Even though I hate all kinds of poetry that have a specific format and a specific number of syllables to follow, I have forced myself to write this sonnet. Yay me.


They call me irrelevant
Pointless, foreign, insignificant
A case of arrested development
I am merely an impressionist
Not quite a perfectionist
Don’t consider myself preeminent
Just trying to be benevolent
What type of chemical element?
Shall I experiment?
Let me demonstrate intelligence
Oh wait, I ain’t intelligent
5 plus 0; an identity element
I agree, I am simply irrelevant

I have a liking for spoken word poetry.

Go check Britta B, one of my top favourites.

The Burden

It looms above me
Compelling and forceful
I cannot reach
For I am doubtful

The burden’s upon me
Overwhelming and painful
I cannot heave
For I am incapable

Around it follows me
Unspeaking and direful
I cannot speak
For I am fearful

  Responsibilities burden us all and as we grow up they just keep increasing. Currently, I have so much going on in my life, it’s like I’m juggling things around. This causes me stress but writing down my thoughts has relieved me of most of it.