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Sunday, June 23, 2013

The road

The road

The road whinds down,
Further and further.
While I'm in the car,
My stomach tossing and turning.

The road is never ending,
While the music blasts in my head.
"Locked out of heaven".

The road whinds down,
Further and further.
While I try to fall asleep on the backseat of our car,
It's uncomfortable.

The road is never ending,
While I see the other cars whizzing by us,
Like we are in a NASCAR race.

The road whinds down,
Further and further.
While the rain drizzles on the windows,
Reminds me of the subtle tears forming in my eyes.

The road is never ending,
But now I'm here.


Inspiration: I'm on a road trip right now, and this poem describes exactly how I feel right now :)
-RAP

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Comments!

Please feel free to write comments and give positive feedback!! 
I would really appreciate it so I can improve and write about more topics.
 THANKS!!!! :)

Killing us Softly


They say to look desirable but innocent.
Sexy but naïve.
My skin has to look flawless, 24/7.
No exceptions.

I want to be me, but that isn't who I am supposed to sell.
Who is the real me?
It is as if, after being in this imaginary bubble of perfection,
Artificial personalities
And plastered smiles,
You start to
Lose Yourself.

My body slips away.
Size zero and 100 pounds.
Isn't that enough?
What more do they want?
Size -1?

The Media.
Such a small word for such a big network.
They portray me and sell me.
An object, that is who I am to them.
I feel fake.
I shouldn't have to tolerate their manipulations of my body.

If I am at such a horrible place,
Imagine the future generations.
It is already starting.
Toddlers styling logos like “Pimp Squad”
And girls conveyed as sex objects.

The media defines who I am.
They are my boss.
I want to quit this job.
I want to walk out the door and slam it in their faces.
I wish they knew how they're killing me.
Killing me softly.

“I want to be like Cindy Crawford”.
Said Cindy Crawford.
A person shouldn't have to wish they are themselves.
It is utterly demoralizing.

1 photo shoot.
100 shots.
10 airbrushes.
20 polishes.
30 touch-ups.
Millions of magazines.
The damage it causes the viewers.
Countless. 


Inspiration: I wrote about the objectification of women in the media today, and how it affects our everyday lives. It was inspired by a video called, "Killing us Softly". -RAP

Bittersweet Legs


Bittersweet Legs

You are a part of me,
For eternity,
So hopeless I fear,
Is my future

I hate you,
It's nothing but the truth,
Because you've given me more pain,
Then anything

To have these crooked and bent forks,
As support for my body,
Makes me lucky,
But I wish they were reliant

Why couldn't you be like my eyes?
Movable, predictable, and full of color,
No. You had to be monochromatic,
Unfaithful, stationary, annoying

Life was going great,
Why did you have to ruin it?
Every doctor said something different,
So there goes my life, watch it break!

Do what you can, with what you have,
But I can't sense my own problem!
One day I was twirling,
The next, collapsing

They were tall, lean glasses of water,
Flowing smoothly against the tide,
Now they are rapids,
Picking up speed and crashing against the rocks,

Jelly, you are,
Motionless, and lactic,
Pain surging through like a lightning bolt,
I know I won't be walking for long,

So rugged, like a mountain stained,
With the history of a dreadful explosion,
The swelling, the redness,
I have my proof

My walk slowly churned
Into a limp, as I discerned,
Stairs and uphills, my greatest enemy,
Or walking around the corners, my death at every turn

It's bittersweet,
Because no matter how much I hate,
I can only love them more,
Fickle as they are, they are my fate and future



Inspiration: 
I really like writing about my favorite part of my body, my legs!