Sunday, March 24, 2013

To The Girl

To the girl who sat at her desk,
head buried in the books.
To the girl who sat on the rooftops,
to get away from the hell within 4 walls.
To the girl whose sole purpose was to,
make something of herself.
To the girl whose baby brothers,
look up to her to help them, take care of em'.
To the girl who looks in the mirror,
to the strong, proud, and beautiful.
To the young women raising families.
To the females not afraid to show their love to another.
To the young girl in the future who hear or read this poem.
             Stand Strong!

-Sincerely Fay,

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Rants of a Poet

To some life never seems to be enough,
just to know that your alive is not enough!
We strive for things to make us complete.
It is to those people that I say I am alike!
I am grateful and blessed to be alive,
but to live day by day is not me.
I have to strive for doing more;
helping more, writing more!
Can I say more,
do I have to spill out that I have had a very sad past!
One that is wrought with abuse and pain.
Do I need to render your senses suppressed by my anguish!
Now listen to me rant!
Life is everything I do, the choices I make,
the struggles designed for me and me alone.
The things I do for me, for those around me!

        -Sincerely Fay,

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Soldiers of Poverty

The world today is not made for the weak,
its not catering to the spineless ones.
The world today makes soldiers,
prepares its children for future wars.
The world today give birth to maturity,
it leaves little room for an imagination.
It forces little ones to grow up,
before they even leave their childhood.
The grounds on which we walk is soaked in tears and blood,
so deep in the roots of who we are.
The sheets and car seats filled with remorse and regret.
The things we have done and will do,
those secret things that stain our souls.
Those masks of calm, those frozen smiles,
underneath lies the broken child.
Forever savoring those moments of happiness,
small glances of hope.
The world today, birth children, children
of war, defeat, hurt, neglect, financial need, and fear.
This world today give rise to a new breed of children,
we are the Soldiers of Poverty.

Sincerely Fay,