Orignal Poem - Tumblr Posts

The big black cat

Sometimes the big black cat comes and sits on you constantly. Your subconscious is screaming at you to get up and do something but you cant move.

It’s like someone you love telling you to put your hand on a hot stove but you know you physically can’t.

It’s like trying desperately to light your favourite candle and keep the fire burning but the wick is at its end.

You sit and you wait for the inspiration and motivation to come to you and get you going again yet even when it does it doesn’t last long.

You look at everyone else in your life and wish, constantly comparing.

And the guilt hits, hits hard, but you, you shouldn’t be wishing this. your life is fine other people have it way worse, why are you complaining about them they are trying their hardest, why aren’t you doing your work your going to fail why aren’t you getting out of bed?! no! I don’t care if your tired! I don’t care if you’re hurting! You’re going to fail! You need to get the fuck up! Get up! GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP!

I cant.

I cant get up.

I’m stuck.

Im stuck sitting there and staring at the work my mind blank and my body willing to but making no progress to move and try do it, the need to distract myself instead with mind numbing activities.

I cant think. I cant read. I cant work. I can bleed.

I bled.

I used to paint.

I painted a beautiful shade of red that would dot my skin in beautiful lines that painted my pain into this gorgeous piece of existence. my pain, wasn’t only mental anymore. The artwork I no longer create and yet, sometimes I wish I could take out that silver paintbrush and start anew without feeling the dark, sickening feeling of guilt climbing up my throat and spewing out my mouth in the sound of sobs and screams while the thoughts of people, people I love who may not understand stream through my head pushing me to a halt.

I cant paint anymore.

And yet when the cat gets nudged and it begins to stir you start panicking. It cant move now. Not after everything it’s put me through. That would mean It’s all for nothing. It needs to stay. So you begin to find an odd sense of comfort within being with the cat, and the suffocation starts to feel like home.

I wish

Knowing what I know now, I wish

I wish I had hugged her alittle tighter

Held her a little longer.

Now when she hugs me it’s not the same

Knowing this causes my heart pain.

‘I still have feeling for them’ she says

Breaking my heart into two.

Knowing what I know now, I wish

I wish I had waited

Maybe she would’ve healed and loved me fully

Maybe she would’ve not liked me at all

But I wouldn’t feel as stupid as I do now

Waiting to see if she’ll call

Now She loves not me but another. And so I sit and wait and wish.

Wish I had savoured that one last kiss.

- @elladorathegreat

Here's a Poem I wrote a year ago

(would've been good to post this in February, but I didn't give a crap about tumblr in February so this is what I'm doing)

What I am is smart and kind.

What you are is ignorant and blind.

What I am is black and beautiful.

What you are is vile and unhelpful.

It's not my fault that you hate me so.

Just because my skin is not the color of winter snow.

It's not my fault you will stoop so low.

So, I will walk on as calmly, as the summer wind blows.

Don't you see it's not important where you come from?

What matters is if you treat people like scum!

So, you can keep talking and thinking the way that you do.

But don't be surprised when karma comes to have a chat, with you.

(I know it's not that good, but I wrote this when I was 13 for a black history assembly we did at my school and it's really the first piece of poetry I did that wasn't god-awful)

Here's Another Poem I wrote

This is one of the two poems that I wrote this year for a black history assembly at my school.

Blind

Can’t see it.

Can’t feel it.

Can’t recognize it.

You’re blind.

You turn away from the struggle of others.

You won’t hear about the injustice.

You pretend it’s all in the past.

You’re blind.

Don’t act like isn’t here.

Don’t act like it isn’t there.

Don’t make-believe it's all gone away.

Don’t look away from all the pain.

Your guilt is telling you to turn away.

Your fear is making you hateful.

Your hate is turning you violent.

Your ignorance has made you blind.

And here comes another poem.

Here's the other poem I wrote for my black history school assembly.

 Unforgettable

We will never forget our brothers,

Malcolm, Martin, and Medger.

And we will never disregard our sisters,

Fannie, Shirley, and Ruby.

We will not forget the anger and hate that was thrust upon Rodney and Emmett.

We will remember the strength of Mamie Till to show the world what happened to her boy.

We will remember Rodney asking the Nation, ”Can we get along?”

We won’t forget the bravery of the Little Rock Nine or the patience of the Greensboro Four.

We will remember the boycotts and the protests,

Along with the dogs and water hoses.

We will not forget the people from the past,

Who wouldn’t give up and fought for their rights. For even those who were not in the spotlight,

Still shine like diamonds.

For they showed courage and determination,

In a time of fear and discrimination.

So let us never erase these people from our memory,

For each and every one of them is unforgettable.