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Beauty in the Words

Month

November 2016

Love and Misadventure by Lang Leav

Genre: Poems

Synopsis: Poems about love

Let me start with a little disclaimer, poetry isn’t something I read very often. That said I did enjoy, the book

But first, can I rant about the thing that annoyed me off the bat about this book. Her poems are really short, say 5 to ten lines, in the middle of the page. So why on this Green Earth would they only put one on a page?! Sure it looks neat but they could have at least put one on the back side as well. I mean how much paper went into this. It’s not flimsy cheap paper either.

*breathe*

Okay, So back to the book. It’s adorable. Love is a misadventure for many people, and clearly for Ms Leav too. But the way she tackles it, makes my heart fill up with bubbles, and see nothing but rainbows and bunnies. It’s so whimsical and relatable, I can’t help turn them into quotes.

It goes through all the seasons of love, from the secret crushes to that finally together, and sometimes to the heart-wrenching break-up.

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”

Oscar Wilde

The Silent Protest

This a couple months late, I apologise for that but I really wanted to put it up.

She shouldn’t have to feel like it’s her fault. It shouldn’t be her secret to keep. She was just a child, and you were supposed to be taking care of her. But you took advantage of the vulnerability, the trust the placed in your hands. This should be your shame, your guilt. Not hers. Yet she’s the one hurting. The one silenced by what the world will see her as. Silenced to mistrust everyone because you broke her, and society allowed you to. 

How tragic is it that at age 5, she already knew her place as inferior? How unfair it was strip her of the innocence of youth, and yet force her to carry the weight of covering it up.

If she’s lucky she can bury it so far down, that she can go days, weeks, feeling normal, pretending it never happened. But in the dark corridors, when whispers of similar tragedies circulate, the pain resurfaces. But how?! How can we let this keep happening?

It’s our fault that she feels so powerless. Her tragedy goes unrecorded, so we go on unaffected. Yet thousands like her go on hurting.

It’s time to give them back their voice, their power.

Continue reading “The Silent Protest”

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