Just read the poems, I had to write these for school
“Barrier” I was placed here, rather quickly, placed to block kids from freedom Though they still slip beneath the fence that I am only attached to Blocking them from climbing, climbing to the sky Climbing to the freedom they deserve I see people die, I see people cry I see it all And I can’t help, but I still block Placed by the builders For all the people America now hates Crammed into this space The walls of the barracks speak of the families Crying more than I see I see guards, standing tall in their towers Shooting those who could be ‘out of line’ I don’t understand why why anything happens People die, and people cry But nothing ever changes Because the guards still watch The crows still coo The kids still sneak beneath this fence The memories remain even when they start leaving "Energy Drinks" When I see you I feel like a kid seeing the first snow It’s cold and cool But like you nevertheless You smell like chemicals Made of acid and arsenic Unlike the Arme Ritter my nana would make me Instead you smell like the freshly pinesoled floors of my old house Reminding me of my brother and his friends Stupid and drinking on a Tuesday night Reminding me of playing Skate 3 Waiting for my sister’s friends to leave Constantly there as an ad or a jam You feel like a tesla coil to my nervous system just from holding your metal can Chemicals and citrus to form an electric flavour like a lighting bolt through me But you can always solve my worn mind’s problems Making me want to yawp from the rooftops "I am so independent" I am so independent. like an eel in a hole hiding below or like Robert the Bruce always fighting for the Scots always getting a truce independent like a cloud floating alone in the ether of blue or maybe like a singular leaf falling from a tree on a dark street I am as independent as the Declaration of Independence written line by line in ink or as a tree drying in the Sahara dessert Always standing alone. "Childhood" I remember the stone pillars the seat of a Greyhound bus the cool air and the faint sounds of a melody long forgotten I remember the pain in my wrist as it remained in a sling The scooter left untouched sitting in the corner With only a scratch on it’s blue paint I remember the trips to the petrol station cars racing by the cool air blowing But all that is now just a faint Poloroid Sitting on a shelf in the office Long forgotten, like an old song, that you hum once a year
