Young Writers Society

April 19

The lies coat my tongue
like sickly sweet honey
and the words I want to speak
get trapped and warped inside.

Honesty, they say, is the best policy,
but what if I can't find the policy manual?
What if the truth is hidden
in pages and pages of guidelines and rules?

If I told you that I was sorry,
would you just walk away, again?
And let the mist envelope your sighs
While I'm stuck, the sunshine burning me?

These eyes are known to betray.
So, tell me, can you trust them?
I wouldn't to be honest,
but what does my honesty mean to you?

O.o How did I get six poems behind? Brace yourselves, people. I'm armed with haikues and haiku-cheats (which were supposed to be haikus, but I just scrapped the syllable rule and went free-form).

April 20, one: haiku cheat

The road less taken
might not end at the rainbow,
but neither does the beaten path.

Two: actual haiku

My markers dried out,
and this half-colored dream-world,
is all that is left.

Three: actual haiku

You have seen enough
sorrow for the both of us.
So, please, shut your eyes.

Four: actual haiku

Sure, it isn't fair.
But injustice is common,
so shut up and deal.

(If you're wondering, that one is directed at no one in particular that I know. XD)

Five: Wendy of the Dollhouse

Dear Wendy of the Dollhouse:
I hate to bring sad news.
But they say I'm growing up now
and I have to give up you.

Know that I resent this greatly,
and I hate to cause you sorrow.
But I simply can't still play with dolls
when I turn six tomorrow.

I'll be a big girl then, you see.
I hope you understand.
'Cause I'm hoping for this teddy bear
I saw in Disneyland.

Daddy said you'd just waste space
in my new big-girl room.
Your dress won't go with the green walls,
so you'll have to meet your doom.

So sorry to have to do this.
But it's truly for the best.
I've played and loved you for so long;
now you can finally rest.

April 21

Take my word for it, dear:
it's not worth shooting for those stars
when each sun in this galaxy
shines for you just the way you are.

Your smile triggers the heavens' parades.
But, love, why won't it last?
Like a fleeting rainbow's glow,
it fades into the past,

Don't tell me that it's just for show.
A curtain meant to hide
the deeper, darker parts of you
that hide behind the lies.

Just as your joy can change the world
so can your sorrow, too.
And, please, don't let that smile fade.
Don't let the tears leak through.

Evi-love!

First of all, Wendy of the Dollhouse was sad. I think, if you wanted to at some later point, you could expand that poem a lot more to bring in some more of that faded emotion that would hug to that piece like glue. =D

Also...

You have seen enough
sorrow for the both of us.
So, please, shut your eyes.

I really liked that one. <3

it's not worth shooting for those stars
when each sun in this galaxy
shines for you just the way you are.

And this is super cute. <3

I LOVE YOU, CBF~

April 23, one

Note-- for this to work as a haiku, you have to pronounce 'fire' with one syllable. Instead of, say, "fy-er".

The bubbles explode
like firecrackers in my head;
and the brightness hurts.

April 23, two

Shut The Door

Say, love, why do you put yourself down?
He doesn't know what he's saying.
Under your smile, I see the pain.
Tell me, why do you let it hurt you so?

The only thing keeping you here is that open door.
Hatred and pain walk in and out as they please.
Even he can come in whenever he wants!

Don't you want it to go away?
Only you can burn that final bridge.
Only you can shut that open door.
Rest, now; he's safely locked on the other side.

April 23, three

the leaves fall like acid rain, bringing death
in the form of harsh, shrill winter winds.
sunlight doesn't dare penetarte this darkness
except for in the bland whiteness of the sky

the cold is like none other, burning me until
I can't hear the melody line any longer
and I'm left with only off-tune harmonies
to hum until the spring returns.

I don't want to see the icicles, dripping dripping dripping
like something to be kept behind locked doors
like something that shouldn't be allowed
into a place of sunlight and happiness.

but winter always prevails, like a reminder
that mother nature doesn't care about your pain
and the seasons will continue
even if only to spite those of us who hate it.

(if you couldn't gather, I despise winter and the cold. <_< )

April 26, one

The colors will dance
like forgotton melodies
upon the sky's harp.

April 26, two

That final starlight
is met with darkness so deep;
impenetrable.

Prepare for extreme oddness. ^^ This next poem is written where the first word of each line is supposed to be the missing last word in the previous line, if that makes any sense.

April 29, one

The After-Effect

words can only give so much, and eyes can only
see the way that smile fades? like blackness closing
in the echoes of tomorrow we find a fragmented
today is the only after-effect of life we have to spend.

the war-cry doesn't penetrate past these
walls are built and broken, illogically and without
reason comes and mercy leaves, but never forget my
promises don't mean quite what they used to, anymore.

April 29, two

No, love, I'm afraid the type of justice
you're looking for
isn't found here anymore.
But I hear they sell it by the bucketload
down the street
and across the creek?

Instead, we have other gems
to offer, such as
maladies and hatred in abundance
as well as the kind of depression
they serve out
at the finest depths of darkness.

Your soul is hungry for some love, you say?
Well, I have just the thing
to fix this problem.
One dose of rejection, and a drop of lonliness
should have your soul numbed
from the pain
in no time.

Thank you so much for coming;
we appreciate your business.
Come again,
when your skies fade back to gray.

April 30, one, two, three

Wisdom

hidden inside that pile of books
is knowledge like you'll never find
to uncover the gold
you must look past the words
and read what's between all the lines.

the magic is found not in wands or pink dust;
behind the curtain there's nothing amiss.
but the things that you seek
are well hidden, it seems,
to the point they don't even exist.

look carefully, dear, when I turn off the lights
and watch as the stories unfold.
there are characters floating
and ancient kings' showing
their endless abundance of gold.

The 'I' in Promise

Although there is no 'I' in team,
there is an 'I' in promise.
Why did I rely on you
to do what must be done?

Although there is no 'I' in we
there is an 'i' in failure.
It's all my fault, I take the blame
the chance was slim to none.

Although there is no 'I' in group,
there is an 'I' in life.
Can you really blame me so
for living out my dreams?

Although there is no 'I' in us,
there is an 'I' in faith
I thought I could believe you, but
your love's not what it seems.

The Last Poem

The last poem's like that first breath of air
after hours trapped under the gloom
we complain about writing a poem a day
but now April is over so soon!

Tell me now, love, did you finish them all?
Is all your creativity spent?
Did you stumble along with haikus and the works
and make it all up as you went?

The last poem's when the moon finally shines
after days that were full of bright sun.
We've no sanity left, and our social lives died,
but, oh, wasn't NaPo so fun?