Defeated.
Alone.
No words.

No words.
Just me staring at my desk
head in hands
eyes
tears
don’t want to
pour 
my soul
I don’t know.

I listen to the background noise
of what I could destroy
if I open my mouth

Words.
But there are none.

So why do I write on this
blank page.
As I fail to speak
my
thoughts

I don’t know
what
to
I
am
lost.

Lost
in mad darkness.

I am
weak.

Weak 
as a storm
trapped in a cage
where the lightning is 
too soft to hate.

I don’t know.
 

Something, something,
everything is something,
even if you do a poem about nothing.

Like my friend luon,
she described in her poem,
how it is impossible to do one.

just write anything that comes out of your head,
write random words down,
and if it gets to hard just go to bed.

the next day you try again,
and describe the apple,
as if it turned pink on a thursday.

So whatever you do,
even if it is nothing,
it is something,
something that came out of your head.


By Judit Duran Calzada

 
Scary face,
ugly face,
all these words,
when they ask me describe him,
there are 1,000 words.

Some people will call him scary,
some will call him ugly,
but my personal opinion is,
he's weird and that makes me worry.

poor him doesn't he know?
people are laughing at him,
and he doesn't think so. 


By Judit Duran Calzada