Category: Poetry

I try to be creative when writing. Ergo, these poetry.

Dear Santa,

Joana15 Comments
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If I was five I would have asked you for a toy
but I grew up fast and never believed in you.
If I ever did I would have asked you for joy
a thing that was stolen and I never knew.

When I was ten I had a Christmas wish,
no one ever knew, I thought you did.
Other kids would never had it on their list
but I didn’t grew up as a normal kid.

That was fourteen years ago
and I still have that same wish,
after all the time that had flown
there’s still something that I miss.

Forgive this melodramatic poem, it’s Christmas and we should all be happy at least for today. It has been a crazy year for all of us but let today be full of happiness and forget all of your problems just for a little while. I would like to send my warmest hugs to those who lost someone or something due to the pandemic. We’ve all been through a lot this year, we all deserve to take a break and enjoy this holiday. Cheers to everyone and Merry Christmas!

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Justice #StopTheKillings

Joana5 Comments
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How can someone easily take a life?
Without hesitation they just take it.
It was a gun fight and they brought a knife,
not even a chance to announce defeat.

Arms raised and unarmed
yet, they point the gun,
they cause no any harm.
Cold on the floor, unable to run.

His eyes show no signs of guilt.
Adrenaline rushing through his veins,
looking at those he freshly killed,
what he did to them is inhumane.

What is justice if the law is on his side?
Where do you go when the law is the enemy?
There’s the proof but they choose to be blind.
Justice is gone and the law is on a killing spree.

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I wrote this after I watched a police officer in the Philippines shot a mother and her son who were unarmed. There’s still no concrete explanation of why it led to this terrible incident. It’s so infuriating to think how authorities abuse their power that leads to these kinds of crimes. There is an increase of police brutality around the world, there are so many unrecorded incidents and many were unpunished because they were protected by the law makers and other state officials because they are part of the law. The world is so fucked up right now.

Photos are not mine. Credits to photo owners.

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Lost Writings | 12 – Mornings Turned To Mourning

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MORNINGS TURNED TO MOURNING

The ray of the sun’s light is not too bright to pass through this thick fabric curtain and the morning comes but it does not shine in the other side of the window. Until the sun has to set, the bed is still yet to be vacated. Awake through the night and through the dawn with no light, just a debilitated psyche to perceive the misty surroundings— searching for a dash of light and pulling all the threads of this thick fabric. Restless mind through the dark, not even a glint came through out of all the sunrises and mornings. Supposed hopeful journeys and new beginnings led to wasted life and daily mourning.

I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.

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Emotionless

Joana4 Comments
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Mixed sensation building up from the inside,
never letting it out and trying so hard to hide
the sign of weakness coming from within.
Stone face, ungrateful tone that I don’t mean.

I’m catching up to my core who’s miles ahead
but everyone perceives that I’m hostile instead.
Terrified to cause a scene but wanting to be seen.
Afraid to be too loud but wanting someone to listen.

I have rambled words and feelings inside of me.
Instead, I let out an odd side of how it’s ought to be.
It’s all in my head thinking how I made such a mess
of myself that I became a machine, and emotionless.

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Open Wounds

Joana5 Comments
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The scars from the past
are still covered up with plasters,
and time didn’t do its job to heal
the wound from the disasters
that I had hoped would disappear
but it’s a chip on my shoulders
I can’t brush off, and its claws cling.
Stitches are open and the pain lingers.

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