Scatter my ashes from the highest building,
And know that the Earth you walk on is alive with a part of me.
The wind that touches your face is me caressing your tears,
And the breeze the wraps it’s slender arms around your waist is blessed with my soul.
For it is rough times when young minds are warped with the world’s cruel destructionWhen young minds learn the world is not as innocent as it made itself out to be.
Let salt drench your cheek bones which I so much admired,
Feel the pains of your overwhelming emotion take control of your skin,
Make yourself vulnerable to the way of grief just once, for me,
Then leave those thoughts be and remember that I am the nutrients that let’s each tree grow.
Death has not taken me, as I will never let it do so; it has only replaced the space I left empty when my invincibility got awoken by reality.
The powers of the world will loom over you,
Stars will seem a million miles away, unreachable from your steady stance,
Dreams will be nothing but dreams and life nothing but a ride, a game, a joke.
But life is real and it is happening now no matter how hard it hits you, or avoids you.
You know it is bad times when old minds look back to words of a teenager for comfort,
When old minds are only 15 years old, stretched by the deceit of pain.
Chloé Davies, September 12th 2008
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1 comment:
Like your poetry!
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