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School of FishA gentle rumble fills the halls, bouncing off the graffiti covered walls. The scratches and scrawls of derogatory words somehow makes the murmur of voices grow. Posters attempt to hide the worst of it, but all they do is give the ‘artists’ more room to scrawl, and give everyone else a communal message-board beneath the poster. The teacher’s aren’t smart enough to look behind their ‘educational’ scraps of paper, so the weekly gossip update continues. They were students once, they should know all the tricks like the back of their hand, but they’re oblivious. It’s ironic really that they hold these assemblies in the Gym, where the surrounding corridors are plastered in red and black ink, as if the countless sharpie markers have spattered blood across the walls.
As the doors close at the back of the gym, the rumble turns into a simultaneous groan. It’s mental health awareness week. The one week every year that the teachers take it upon
The pen scribbles...
A snow falls to the ground,
It doesn't disappear,
It doesn't melt.
A snowball hits the ground.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A thin layer of ice,
Alarm for a
The pen scribbles...
The fire rises,
And the ice flashes red.
Black DogShe imagined the ball shooting past, colliding with the tree and scaring the accumulating birds away, but it just tumbled off the boy’s foot with a little more force than usual as he protested about going home. Few people were ever around in the late afternoon. Something about the sight of fiery leaves and glistening cobwebs seemed to drive the crowds away. Her feet dragged along the ground as she swung across the monkey bars. At least there were far less people around to watch her with their backs turned and mutter about how playgrounds were for those of a younger age.
“Some people are young at heart OK!” she silently screamed as she pulled herself up on top of the monkey bars. A crow swooped down out of the shadows, narrowly avoiding her head as she walked across to the rooftop above the slide. She’d given up trying to shoo the pesky thing away months ago. It would just sit there nonchalantly until she got the courage to push it off its perch; at which point s
SignsThe pens, neglected on the floor,
The empty art book, hidden away,
The camera, stashed in the corner...
The broken watch on the table,
The stacks of unfinished projects,
The soft, squishy teddy bear
and the playlists, forever on repeat,
All saying the things she dare not tell.
Circle of Hidden ThoughtsA trickling tear turns into a stream,
Allowing thoughts and questions to swim
around and around in circles.
A whirlpool, fast and strong,
Pulls at the edges of happy thoughts,
Dragging them under, into darkness.
Silence, complete and sudden
as voices are drowned
beneath heavy weights.
A wailing echoes from savage winds,
Whistling across the cracks
in a tightly closed jar.
A deafening explosion erupts
and the whirlpool dissipates,
Waves crashing around.
Droplets gather and puddles form.
The ground, a swamp
of unsolved problems.
Slowly, drained and dried up
until the next trickling tear
turns into a stream.
Two With Rhyming NamesI've tried to write a poem
countless, countless times,
About and for
two wonderful friends of mine.
But it's come out all wrong,
sounding, quite simply, soppy.
And the phrasing... Well,
I wont begin to explain how sloppy!
I discovered they had rhyming names,
This was incredibly exciting.
But besides the glee and possibilities,
It didn't do anything for my writing!
So I'll close by saying this,
though it is not nearly enough.
Because describing how much I love them
really is quite tough!
To the two amazing women
on whom I can wholly depend,
I cannot explain how much it means
to call you both my friend.
No More CupcakesTemperamental.
That's what I'd call
my second mind.
The one the governs
all actions and reactions;
overreacting to the smallest thing.
It's like it decides
'I'm sick of baking cupcakes,
here's some slop instead!'
'There's still plenty
flour, sugar, eggs,
But lets make slop!
Oh, you're going out with friends?
Fine. Here's ONE cookie.
Can't have them seeing you eat stale bread.
Now lets go back to cupcakes,
Leaving your other mind to worry
how long until I switch to something horrid.'
Cupcakes to slop,
Cookies to stale bread,
I'd call my mind temperamental.
Bracelet of MagicSometimes you need a key
to open every lock.
Perhaps your friend's secret diary,
Open it and give them a shock!
Sometimes you need a coin
for just a little chance.
Maybe that certain someone
will give you a second glance!
Sometimes you need a bell
to bring music to your day.
Whilst everyone has iPods,
You've found a better way.
Sometimes you need a whistle
to gain someone's attention.
And then, sound it once again
to break the awkward tension.
Sometimes you need a stone
to hold tightly as you wish.
If you listen closely,
You can hear it granted with a 'swish'.
Sometimes you need a candle
for just a little light.
To fight away the darkness
or help that creative spark ignite.
Sometimes you need a marble
to see the world upside-down.
Though others wont, if you just believe,
It's enough to lift you off the ground.
Sometimes you need a teddy
for a bit of extra love.
Or to tell that secret crush
that you'll never, ever speak of.
Sometimes you need a bracelet of charms
for just a little magic
Compassion Of The Heart...Come over here and talk to me,
I told my little boy.
"Oh mom I'm mad, my brand new friend,
stole my only toy!"
"My dear sweet son, it pains me so,
to see you so upset, but there's one thing
you ought to know, one thing you won't forget."
"Please mother tell me, what it is
this thing I ought to mind? Can I buy it, is it new
or maybe does it wind?"
Ah my son it's nothing new, it's been around awhile
It's something that I always knew, that won't go out of style!
Son, it's nothing stores can sell, or put upon a shelf,
it's not a truck or Lego set, or some poor garden elf.
Son there's some that don't have much,
your friend and many more...but we will find another toy,
in another store!
It's sad of course your toy is gone, theft is never right...
but think of how your friend might feel, without a toy in sight.
Of course he may have borrowed it, cause friends they often do
I mean to say what is a friend? What does that mean to you
Lost without your LoveThe rain is tapping lightly
outside on the tender leaves.
I look through the windonw
on this cool summer night
caressed by a gently breeze.
I am missing you deeply inside
staring blankly, into space;
curtains blowing softly
against my skin
tears of love, run down my face...
Staring, for the longest while
never realizing the passing time.
Trying to find the pieces
to make it right
the words, to make it rhyme...
For how can I ever tell him
let the deepest part of me show?
That I'm lost without his love...
How will he ever know?
I think of 'you'Peering out my window, noticing, the lilac bush in full bloom.
Picking up one of the soft petals
and raising it to my nose;
the air is 'warm'
the fragrance sweet...
I think of 'you'.
The day is lazy.
Soft music comes drifting by my window
from the house down the road.
I notice the gentle hum of the queen bee
as she feeds off the flowers,
and the soothing monotony of the crickets song.
I am so 'aware' - of 'life' taking place...
I think of 'you'.
The cemetery's aglow, with bright flowers,
and fresh, young graves...
I walk, down the mental paths of my mind;
the sun, shining warmly upon my hair, and face.
The birds, ask and answer - the sweet questions
only 'they' understand; as, I walk.
And the tomb stones, look back at me
introducing themselves by name,
welcoming, my company;
'offering', perfumed fragrant gifts
as a symbol of life...
Lifting one, to my nose.
Smelling it's gentle fragrance, and touching it's soft
EnvisionIn my thoughts I'd 'hope' for you....
I wish we could have been...
I'd close my eyes and see in my mind
an ever so sweet envision.
The truth had come to me too late;
though looking back in the blue
the feelings stir, inside me again,
the beautiful ways in which I'd seen you...
I was as a mountain
peaked, with soft white snow;
til the Spring of 'you', came into my life;
then gentle waters flowed....
And went with me
through valleys and streams
of my life, I'd never seen before.
Our differing ways, just intensified
to show me more.
I learned a whole new world of 'me'
things, you already knew...
Of the sun in the sky
it's effect to warm.
You 'showed me' the sky of blue.
I learned of the birth of flowers
as they opened, to the dawn.
I knew then what it was to smile.
You taught me, and then you'd gone.
And slowly I looked about me
at everything that you 'were'.
All the beautiful things
of which, together; helped me
to paint your picture.
Then I understood - and felt the wa
ReflectionsLike silent raindrops falling
reflections, shown in tears.
The agonies and sorrows;
a picture painted clear.
Each one tells a story
in, such a way
compassionately, as to make you feel
what words could never say.
Watch them slowly falling.
Listen, with your eyes;
to the pictures, painted before you.
See them come alive.
So very colorfully dancing;
in full detail
one, by one...
On and on,
you can't escape.
The story is never done.
Holding onto YouLooking out through the window,
my thoughts, only I know...
Since the day I left you
it's been raining, constatly
for days in a row.
As I sit here watching
I quietly ask myself 'when'
will I begin to smile?
Will the sun start to shine again?
For love with you was beautiful
so beautiful....at one time.
You had a way with words
a way, of making them rhyme.
On and on, endlessly
your sweet voice filled the air;
making me feel the love you claimed
- though, it was never there.
Now here I sit remembering
sweet memories, of then...
Hating myself for loving you
and wanting you back again.
You WereYou were a moment of truth and beauty,
that once had touched my life.
You loved me, you really did;
now, I am paying the price.
Paying the price for ignoring the fact
you were so deeply involved;
as I selfishly left you alone with a problem
I knew only I could solve...
Now all that's left to my life is 'hope'
hoping and wondering,... if, and when?
Will those precious moments of truth and beauty
ever touch my life again.
Angel of SuicideAngel of darkness
angel of death.
I wear you tight to my knuckle
hold you close to my chest.
Black is your color
with a face I can't see.
I wait for your touch
to transform me...
Me into 'you'.
To die is to live.
Freedom in ebony
My song is a scream
my bed is a grave.
I sought peace and rest
but became I
...Now I can't go back
and my deepest of fears
flow quick from my eyes
transparent black tears.
'Hell', she runs deep...
Endless others like me
have sought an escape...
Without GoodbyeTime's running out,
Every second on the clock.
You're hastily leaving without...
I pray for closure: a lock.
Every second on the clock,
I'm still wondering why...
I pray for closure: a lock,
A single word of goodbye.
I'm still wondering why
you're hastily leaving without
a single word of goodbye.
Time's running out!
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More