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ChildrenThe children on the playground
Are pathways to a better place
Those taught to change
Rearrange and to better themselves and others
Those who plan, but not too much
The ones with a dream and creativity
Children are young leaders
In the making
On the journey called their lives
We are mere bystanders in their eyes
They are new canvases
Close to empty
Canvases with curly hair and innocent smiles
As they climb atop the monkey bars
Learning how to be rebels
Learning how to be strong
Not everything is pure instinct
We are teachers
Born to be
To serve a purpose on the ground we trudge upon
The ground and people we never think of
We are not born horrible
We are taught to be bad people
Make bad decisions
Taught to swear and hurt
We must teach the fledglings
We must point them to their paths
And let them walk the bitter road
Sometimes

BodaliaShe was the one who dared to do ballet in pouring rain while wearing embellished lace.

MilleniumNovember air
And foggy lies
Wind-swept hair
And crystal eyes
Running down
Slick streets
Sleeping town
In cotton sheets
Stars up high
Daisies low
Dark blue sky
Do I go?
Heartbeat fast
Cracked green glass
It wont last
Time will pass

Remembrance I look at my self in the dusty broken glass of a mirror in the corner of my room. My sodden lips and sodden eyes wretchedly innocent. The blues and browns washed away in the rain of yesterday. What once was. The scaffolding's paint peeling with the heavy beat of water. Like a bass drum in the hands of a toddler. I lay spread on the scraggly carpet in a not befitting room. Leaves a crimson red and decaying brown splayed on an old driveway. A driveway once overflowing in Cadillacs and mini-vans. Soccer moms and laughing teens. Memories so bitter sweet. Nearly tangible on the wilted grass of mind. Roses and bluebells. Spread out in seldom bushels. Moments and hours sitting and remembering. Sitting in remembrance.

BulliedTo stand your ground as the wind pushes past
And stare death in the eye
As you trudge ahead on the gravel and thorns
Black roses and flames ahead
On the road of decay and tears
Shadows of the beaten expelled to the outer fields of the road's valley
Souls of odd and the irregular roaming
Searching for their innocence
To walk through a wall of blood and blood curdling screams
To listen to voices accuse you
Beat you and watch your tears stream down
As if in that is satisfaction
As if in that is the feeling of acceptance
That is the road of a man being hurt
Of a man aching
You are not accepted, nor do you need to be
To feel your heart beat
To hear yourself breathe
To be yourself
You have spoken, and you will be heard
You are important
You may speak now
You will not be bullied, nor will anyone else.

Golden heart of falling StarsI'd run around our yard at night
And try to fish for stars
I'd jump up on chairs and tree trunks
Trailed my hands through the dark sky
I would stay up all night
Waiting for a star to fall
When one did I'd ask my dad if he could see it
'Cause he was tall
He'd laugh and twirl me round and round
Then said it's in my heart
Coursing through my veins
That would always make me smile
Then he'd say that even star dust is twinkling in my eyes
I'd run back to my room and trace my heart across my chest
Trace my veins through out my body
I went to school the next week
Told all the kids my story
Told them that we're made of stars,and stars are in our heart
They laughed and laughed
'Till the teacher made them stop
I stomped through our front door later in the day
Once the school doors had shut, and the teachers were asleep in their classrooms
I ripped all my paintings down
My paintings of stars twinkling in my eyes
Of stars falling in my heart
Now as an adult I still paint those stars
The stars

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Submitted: November 19, 2012
Image Size: 40.2 KB
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Antagonist: Blareby =PandaLannee

Traditional Art / Other

©2012-2013 =PandaLannee

Drawing done for a project with

for school.

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