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Food For The Soul

One of the biggest parts of coping with life is expressing yourself. There is no one that knows that better than poet and writer Robyn Lindsay. She writes countless poems whenever the moment strikes her and her mind is constantly flowing with new lines and stanzas. From all her work in poetry, she sets an example for others to express themselves like she does - whether she feels happy or sad. Any sort of art help can help teens as well as adults fully delve into their feelings and reflect on their life at the moment to establish forward motion. Keeping a journal or sketchbook can be something vital to your growth as a human being as we all go through happiness and hardships.

Here are a few poems from her collection. If you are interested in more go check out her instagram page @abcdpoetry and also contact her for her full digital anthology.

Enjoy!

Breaking

Hello.

Newsflash. Ignoring your problems Won’t get rid of them Believe me, I’ve tried. It actually makes it worse Because you’re proving That you’re not strong enough To fight your own battles Is that how to show a problem Who’s boss? That problem may be but little But she is fierce But you’re human And it’s not And you have the power You have the will To be a magician And make that problem Disappear. It’s gonna take work Believe me, I know But I also know That I can see the glow Inside of you Just waiting to emerge Saying “What took you so long?” And punch that problem Into next never gonna happen again.

Needle and Thread

“ You can’t blend in When you’re born to stand out” At first I thought I was a blend in Which was what I thought was preferred And then I deemed myself a stand out In which with confidence I had not Because if everyone was born to stand out Then why do I feel like a neon periwinkle In a room of subtle grays? And now I don’t fit Into either of those categories I know now that I am in A standing of blending That means That my personality Is a quilt of other Personalities I meet Patches

Stitched together It might be clashing But it serves its purpose, doesn’t it? My laugh? I borrowed that from my friend In elementary school Who said my laugh was dumb That phrase I use? Stole it from a friend Who gets good reactions When she uses it That bad habit? That boy said That he thinks that girls look cute When they do it That hair style? It costs a lot, but All the other black girls do it So if I go against them, I’m going against my own race I’m an always on printer Copying traits day and night The ink spilling on to my surface And soaking into my skin But it’s not direct stealing; That’s plagiarism And I’ve learned that that’s bad So I don’t copy word for word I just... alter it Twist it Make it my own That’s me, Standing out Using a blend of others To make a Frankenstein Of the quintessential teen Now that I think of it, I don’t like that printing metaphor I’m more of an old school kid, I’m a poet, a writer Who just so happens To like being warm In a quilt I made

All by myself Yes, those fabrics May be someone else’s creation But The thread, The pattern I stitch it Together with Is all my own And it serves my purpose Because you’re here reading this, Doesn’t it?


Hugs Make Me Uncomfortable

I hate being touched. Holding hands makes me squirm Hugs make me uncomfortable Even if you do so much To tap me on the shoulder I’ll still shy away from you I hate being emotionally touched. When someone tells me “I love you” I never know what to say, I love them, But I feel I don’t deserve their love And I hate being lied to Even if it is the truth. It’s hard for me to say “I love you” Because even if I do mean it What if the recipient Doesn’t want it? And I get touched, negatively, With the all too familiar rejection The problem is,though I want to be touched I want to be loved I want to be loved I even, dare I say, Want to be rejected because Then I’ll know for sure If my feelings are truths I guess I’m just waiting For the person The right person that When they hug me, I don’t want to escape If they touched me, I wouldn’t be the least bit bothered When they say “I love you” I can say with the most confidence “I love you too”


Birds

Sometimes you get a really good idea And you try to hold on to it But by the time you get to a piece of paper The thought is gone At first, this frustrated me I cursed my brain for not being able To grasp a simple concept But now I realize Not to blame myself for that (I blame myself enough for other things) It just reminds me that I’m human

And I make humane mistakes And that’s okay. I’d also like to think That some things just want to be free To fly,

And maybe I did good not writing it down Some ideas don’t want to be contained in writing And some shouldn’t be contained in writing So I thank them for blessing my brain For that fleeting moment And then I let them soar Whatever they were, In hopes, that one day, I can join them


Be You.

When you first start writing You think that it has to be like someone famous’s To be good The words you write are yours But they also aren’t Because you’ve read so many poetry books And you figured If I wanna be like them I have to sound like them The words you write are yours But they remind you of someone else And that isn’t how it’s supposed to be Too familiar, but not to your experience The words you write are yours

But the sound isn’t.


What’s her Secret?

How does she present herself With a smile and a laugh Radiating positivity? What’s her Secret?

She comes She sees She conquers What’s her Secret?

Never said anything that isn’t kind Sees the good in everyone Doesn’t have a mean bone in her body I want to know her Secret

Comes in every day Impeccably dressed Ready to seize the day Who doesn’t want to know her Secret? How is she so radiant?

How is she so poised? Is there a time that she isn’t happy? Because I haven’t seen it There’s not anyone like her And there’s not anyone who doesn’t like her How does she do it? Whatever it is, Keep doing it The confidence looks good on you.


Robyn Lindsay

@abcdpoetry


The talented poet herself

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