Matches

My feelings are indescribable

Except to say, I am a match

I'm striking a rough surface

and coming

Out burning, or dry, still. 

I feel like no matter, 

No matter how hard I try 

The reputation I have burned 

Is far too hard to erase.

I'm weird and I'm nerdy, 

I'm obsessive and loud.

I wish you all knew what I've become now.

You've broken me, world, my 

fire is diminished by the tears that 

are falling away.

I've eliminated the parts of me

That didn't fit the quota of traits that 

were allowed to be slightly odd. 

Some people talk louder than said is to

be good, 

Some people wear their hair a little

messier than they probably should, 

Most people have one oddity, 

But I have them all. 

 

by Zoey Chandler

Why?

--a poem by Anthony LaPaglia

We are all just humans before the want of power and greed separated us. 

Why? 

We are constantly fighting each other, and yet not finding a solution.

Why? 

I feel like civil war because of the world's constant indecisiveness towards War and Peace when there is a far greater issue

at hand. 

Why? 

Can you imagine if your personality, your ideas, your charisma, your overall outlook, whatever makes you, you was one day magically turned into something tangible, an object like, let’s say… a box. What it would look like? Would it be smooth and more of an organic shape? Or would it be solid with clean crisp edges? Would it have a complex shape, or would it be a standard cube or rectangular shape? Whatever you imagine your box as, no matter how different in shape, color, or texture they may be, one thing stays constant. Which is that while every box is different than each other, they all hold the same thing. Whether in drawers or behind doors. They all hold the same thing, and that is your personality.

   In the beginning of your life your “box” starts out with all of its compartments wide open for everyone to see and even borrow from whether it is friendship, love, or even just some stories you want to tell. Now life would be in perfect balance if that’s all we did, but we don’t. Their comes a point in everyone’s life time when you meet someone who wants to take what you have. Some people will just take and take without any remorse. Some will chose to pursue these people, others will chose to leave them be, others of us don’t even realize what is missing or who took it until it’s too late, some of us never find out. What happens to those empty compartments?

They snap shut and are each locked with a specific key that is hidden away in measures to keep us further away from harm, and in this process we hurt ourselves more than the other individual ever could.

   If you are lucky then by the end of your life you should only have a few compartments locked. But others who are not so lucky will have many if not all compartments closed, even at a young age. But these people should not give up even when times seem hopeless. For one day you will find a person who knows where those keys are hidden and will open you up to new possibilities and chances, it may not happen overnight, maybe not even a month from now but there's someone out their who is waiting.

Because nobody should go through life with a locked box.

The Locked box 

BY ELIZABETH NUNCIATO

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