Why give birth to me?
If you don't even want me?
I know you love me,
but you can't deny you don't like me.
not as much
as we all hope you can.
and get out of my room.
Why did you come in,
if you know very well coming in
will only result in another fight?
you always despite my messiness,
then why come in?
actually, my room isn't
that messy. It's just
not as tidy as you hope.
You take away my right to sigh,
is that not enough?
A single sigh would result
in an entire lecture.
But i can't!
i just can't be happy about everything.
in fact, no one can.
What is wrong with a tiny little sigh?
If i did what i was told to do anyway?
I cried myself to sleep,
because i am living
but sometimes i hope i'm not.
I am only
living now, for other people.
I make words flow,
sometimes doing it ever so slow.
in the hope of that one day when I’ll glow.
My letters dance
across the page hoping to enhance
the world if they get a chance.
My fingers tap,
i put on my thinking cap,
and in my mind roll out the fictional world map.
I imagine maybe
i am the warrior queen to-be.
Or perhaps placing myself in the body of Dobby.
on the typewriter.
or so i like to dream.
As much as i desire cream.
The stars are bright
how am i going to believe, that all these memories don't count;
do you remember it? at all? our moments together?
sunset; walk away; forever; once friends, now only known strangers
the math grades came out,
oh damn i wanted to shout,
i hate this, i should have checked!
What is wrong with me?
all those mistakes that i should have seen,
getting all the complex questions right,
yet let all the simple ones slip away without a fight.
i hated myself.
i just did't want to tell.
but i guess i have to admit,
the existence of all those flawed bits.
i'm such a worry bug,
everything can hurt me like a cut.
i can't be
in the top
because of this bad grade?
they say seven is good enough,
yet i crave for an eight.
i just can't be tough,
not for goodness's sake.
Let the past be forgiven,
and by all means not spoken.
For the past is forsaken,
it shouldn’t be forgotten.
i know it when winter comes.
when i realized
i can not perch on that picnic table
in Shrewsbury courtyard
Arriving early like i always do
on a dim-lit friday morning.
the cold made my fingers numb,
and the tiny bit of light can't help me much.
Winter is coming
i turned away.
i need to find another shelter
it's full arrival.
I have my faith,
i have my believes.
and i have promises to keep.
My poems end up rhyming,
i find this all so charming.
it’s kind of good being here,
there’s no need to shred my tears.
yes this is some random texts,
and don’t judge me by my sex.
i don’t know why did i write this,
for tomorrow’s sun it is.
does it make sense?
if without tense?
i do not know and i don’t care,
tomorrow I’ll be on my fare.
thank you all for listening,
to all these random babbling.
darling close the stage curtains for me,
will i come out tomorrow we’ll see.
It was long before we rest, and even longer for the suffering to end. Tears dried up on our rough cheeks, blood stains tattooed onto the scarred palms of ours. We looked into the horizon, praying for a way out. The light there, is it, is it God descending to us? Perhaps he hasn't forgotten us. Fingers crossed, hopes rising, listening to the footsteps coming closer and closer. The sun shone brightly behind the figure, making him a dark silhouette that can't be identified. He is right before us now.
'Shoo--------' the sound echoed as i fell, no longer conscious.
Look at her, that girl there. Yellow boots and navy coat. Something in her pocket, a dagger? Maybe. Is she a murderer? I don't know.
Mum earlier i asked you to please sign me up for tennis tomorrow,
I wanna go somewhere when my sister’s going to the summer school.
yet the words that fell out of your lips became the no’s in a row,
i felt like crying and tell you the truth to me it was so cruel.
my sister got into the summer school that i too desired much,
I too wish i was the one playing with the band in the town hall.
I won’t be though so i just wish to not ly here all day like such,
i hate to ly here and think ‘bout the band there doing the role call.
you asked don’t i have books to read for the holiday books challenge,
yes was my answer and i added I’m positive I’ll finish.
you thought i must finish them before we go search for more scavenge,
Unless I’ve times but then i should spend them on chores...
Maybe i have never been
they had in mind
half and hour to
prepare for school
bed at nine thirty
time so well
makes her bed
after getting up
i swear one
i will prove
Pretty sure we all know, the fact that Cinderella had never been more than a fairy tale, right? But Chinese Cinderella was more than just a fairy tale. It’s the a true-life story being told by the narrator herself. Most importantly, in this story, the prince was not not really a prince, or a man of any kind. But instead, the author herself. She grew up in the darkness, having been denied by the family but ending up becoming her own light. She truly made something of herself.
I would 100% recommend the novel Chinese Cinderella by Adeline Yen Mah to all who : are miserable and lost, this book will guide you through the tough times; those dreamers who just need a little bit more encouragements to set their sails; people who tend to enjoy biographies.
The narrator Adeline was born in 1937, Tianjin, China. Delivered as the fifth daughter of a wealthy merchant family, it seemed like that...