Rain Drops

The sky cried for you.
She shed her tears and offered her
condolences.
She sent a fall of cold droplets onto me
As if to trap me in her embrace.
And I thought, only for a second, I saw you.
Yes, in the center of the downpour,
You stood, resilient to the rain.
And along with the rain,
You disappeared once more.

The sky stopped crying,
And in place of her tears,
She left a vivid rainbow
With a smile
As bright as yours.

Mourning Day

{I was visiting my Grandfather's tombstone last weekend and I saw my Grandmother crouching before it, telling him of what has happened thus far, that his children were there to see him, and that his grandchildren were there to greet him.

It was a sad sight. ;-;;.

To my right, there was a woman who kept crying in front of someone's grave, and to my left there was a guy playing music in front of someone's grave. While the girl kept crying, the guy just sat there, enjoying the time he "spent" with the person that had died.

I just. It was so sad. OTL}

The times that have passed
And the memories we shared,
I'll treasure them.

The tears that are wept
Will be a precious reminder of the love I've felt.
May you always be able to tell.

Until next time, I'll keep our memories
Stored away, and from time to time,
I'll relive each tiny bit.
Yes, both the good and the bad
Will be played over and over again in my head.

For death is just another obstacle in life
And although it may derail us,
We will meet again.

Death's Doors.

{I'm sorry this was saved on my phone for so long and I never had the chance to update this blog---}

    I wonder how people knocking on death's doors think and feel before dying. Do they realize jut what is happening to them the moments before death? Or are they shown a pleasant dream, one where they are reliving their happiest memory or living the future they could never see... Could never have? Could it be that up to their very last breath, they are fighting to stay alive, stealing gasps of air whenever they could? Despite all the pain that life had brought them, those people put in all the effort they could before breathing became too much. I wonder... To they know how their family, their kin, must have felt? Could they have at least sensed what was happening around the room, every corner emitting tears and a want for solace? Or were they only vaguely aware of that matter, much more interested in the utopia that was offered to them seconds before? And in that final moment before they crossed over to the land of the dead, are they pulled back into reality and shown their family crowding around them, each of them crying and begging them not to go? Maybe it's at that moment that the person suddenly reaches an epiphany, that death isn't something that you should want. Surrounded by the tears, the sobs, and the emotional atmosphere, the person doesn't want their story to continue on at that path but... It's too late. The heart gives away, and the blood flow and senses come to a slow stop. With that last image burned in their mind, did the person die with regret?

Tomorrow.

I'm tired of waiting for that
One special day where
I can finally see and speak to you,
That one day later in life where
You're right here, right beside me again.
Yet... Later never comes.


I long for the moment to go back to where
My eyes were transfixed on your back,
Your body blocking out the harsh and cruel
Things the world had to offer to me.
The protection, the shield that I need so desperately right now,
Where is it?


I yearn for the day when my world becomes balanced again.
When you're right by my side, within arm's reach.
I crave for those memories to become reality once more,
And for these tears to be replaced with smiles.
I wish for the day when I can joyfully call you my father again
Without the limitations of death to stop me.
If only I didn't want these things to happen so much.
Maybe then the "later" would come sooner.

Bullying.

{NBEFORE: "Did this happen to you?" No, it didn't; I had tried to write in that perspective. ;-;. ANYWAYS... I hate my phone. I was in the middle of writing this, and then it deleted all of the stanzas I had  so far. -____-}

You were so strong, so kind, so caring.
Nothing in the world could possibly stop you.
You were invincible.
Yet... Even the strongest of the strong crumbles.

Each day was a war;
Every struggle created by /them/ in order to
Satisfy their fun and fulfill them of their needs.
Inflicting many taunts, many jokes, so many struggles...
Life was a living hell each day wasn't it?

Others ignored your desperate cries for help
In fear that they would be next.
Your screams, echoing loud and clear, were
Swept aside, dying out as your voice grew hoarse and your throat burned.
Only your dreams brought salvation.

Adults won't listen, brushing it off as a cry for attention.
The faculty wants the best school; complaints of bullying won't cut it.
Suddenly, no adult seems... Trustworthy.

Frustrated over everything,
The bullies, the people who ignored your cries,
The adults who chose not to get involved, you wanted it all over.
You took your life.
And now, it is all over.
As Homer once said,
"Now he sleeps at peace forgetful of what he has suffered."

Now everyones eyes are opened.
They see just how bad society was to you,
And now fingers are pointed to just who is at fault.
But... Why must this be seen only after your death?
Why were they so oblivious to your situation even though
They watched it all happen each day?
Why does no one act as the perpetrator, but instead the victim?
Can't they tell they are all at fault?

Although I knew that had happened to you,
I chose to look into the future, ignoring your talk on it... Like the others.
I'm no better than everyone else huh?
I'm sorry.

The Guest.

{Ahh, I feel like I'm going to slap someone in anger soon. People at school, both the faculty and the students, are so... Annoying? Over dramatic? Stupid? Honestly, I just want to stop being nice to them; if they think they can be a jerk yet still expect me to smile and disregard their comments, who are they kidding? I just want this school year to end.}

The wind blew, flinging a whirlwind

Of sand and rocks to the window.

Although the outside environment

Was noisy, restless, chaotic,

The interior of the building was

Silent, a thick atmosphere filling the air.

The storm raged on and on,

Until finally, there was a knock at the door.

The father, the main arc of the family,

Quickly opens the door, greeting the

Unfamiliar guest with urgency in his voice,
Ushering the man to step in to the house.

However, before the guest could be led

To the living room where the majority

Of the family was, a trigger was pulled.

BANG BANG!

Shot at the heart, the father soon was not able to breathe.
As the family rushed to the scene,

They see what has become of

Their father, her husband, in that very moment.

They ran.

Gun powder landed everywhere,

Covering the furniture, dirtying the floor.
The once lively house was now covered
In blood, the family portraits stained with
A horrid, deep red substance.

"Four dead, one more to go."

The youngest daughter, a five year old,

Hides under her bed, hoping not to be found.

"Come out come out wherever you are!"

Taunted the murderer, feeling at ease with

His latest doings.

Unfortunately, the little girl, being as young as she is,

Let out a whimper, and was immediately found.

One final bang was heard, followed by

The creaking of the back door slamming shut.

The storm was still brewing outside,

Blocking out any noise that could be heard

From the inside of the house.

Those screams, loud and haunting,

Suddenly ceased at the dawn of the new day.

And then everything went quiet.