Poem 165 - The Power

The Power

Last week the world went into a rapid decline from its already rapid decline.

All relationships was stolen from those with the closest connection. The centre of power decided it new how love should be looked after, disgarded in cages, left to rot alone.

Paving the way to more than 2000 trauma stained lives and years of nightmares, panic attacks and separation anxiety.

They are not your children to take and it is our job to show you that if you are to callous and selfish to see it. 

Poem 164: The Youngest You’ll Ever Be

The Youngest You’ll Ever Be

“This will blow your mind.” She scoffs. 

“This is the youngest you will ever be again.” 

“Wow!” The mutter. “It’s like those Buzzfeed articles that show you things from the 90s that make you feel old. 

It doesn’t make me feel old, it makes me feel relieved. So happy not to have to face bullies on a daily basis, so happy not to have to run after people I thought were my friends, so happy not to have to be judged by the eyes of disapproving teenage boys, or persuaded to do things I didn’t really want to do. 

I am an adult, I get to do what a I want when I want. I am at the mercy of me. So proud and pleased to have survived to the age I am now and all I do with my days.