A Powerful Weapon

I know this isn't a poem, but it's something I felt like I wanted to say.


   They say, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." To me that phrase speaks of anything but the truth. For half of the people, if not all, living on this Earth would have been a lot happier if they were true. Words are like a knife, when you use them, you won't be able to mend the cut to perfection, no matter how much you tried. 


      People experience this type of bullying mostly during their time at school but that doesn't mean you don't observe, or go through, it again as the years go by, though. Remember walking down your school halls your first day at a new school? Remember being scared of what others thought of you, what they said behind your back or wondering if they were going to like and accept you? It is the words you shared from that day on that have made you friends or foes. For example, remember that one kid who always made you feel small, by saying things like "you're ugly", or "you aren't supposed to exist," or "you don't belong to our group"? Remember how much that hurt? If you were lucky enough not to have been a victim of a bully's words before, though I highly doubt it, then imagine it. Imagine the pain of looking at yourself in the mirror everyday, judging your appearance and attire because of other peoples' thoughts and words that clouded your own. Imagine each word being like a hand; if the words are good then the hand will reach forward and aid you or help you in many ways than one, even if it's just helping you become happier. On the other hand, if the word is mean, then the hand closes itself into a fist and punches you hard. Some people even question their heritage and feel disgraced from their origins and ancestors for the harsh way they are judged, though there is absolutely nothing they could've done to change that, and it wasn't in any way their fault. How would you feel if you were called lame and nerdy just because you're part Asian or a gangster, because of your colored skin? Or even a brat simply because of your wealth? 

  
     Now, the kind words are just as powerful, though people hardly seem to appreciate their existence until it's too late. However, when you look back at all the compliments you've gotten, can't you remember how great a feeling you got when you felt appreciated? How great a feeling it was being recognized and not ignored? Even small things like when you are called beautiful or smart can make a huge difference in a day when you’re feeling blue. Aren't words of support what keep you going on most of the time and help you follow your dreams? Whether they were from friends or family or even complete strangers, their words made you feel warm inside. That is what's important; they made you feel lighter, joyful, and found life more bearable. For without the power of these kind words, you wouldn't have realized the power of the dark ones and would've felt empty and lost. 

  
      Nowadays, people use words too carelessly and do not acknowledge them to be the powerful weapons they truly are. For words, once spoken, can never, truly, be taken back.  As Patrick Rufus had said, “Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts.” So be careful what you say about others as they have powers beyond that of our own.

The Perfect Flower

A flower rises

As you walk by

It reminds you of a special person 

Still you walk away and sigh

A red cherry rose

Exploding with exotic perfume

You probably thought it was nothing

That's what I would assume

After you walked away

For a thousand miles

You stopped

It was a sign you realized

You quickly ran back

Like a leopard on a track

When you finally arrived

The flower looked blue

It's hopes were fading

As it has been waiting

But as you came closer

The flower wore a smile

As it's you it's been waiting for

All this while...

-Hana H. Barakat 

Need Directions

I sat there wondering

In front of two roads

Which way to go

Oh, which way to go

I sat there hoping

To make the right choice

For my decision 

Might change my life

I chose my decision

My decision became my choice

And I have to live by it

As I"ll never again encounter

Those same two roads

-Hana H. Barakat

Lost in a Book

Why do I feel so lonely?

Suddenly feeling I don't belong

So I do the one thing that'll help me

I leave this life behind

I float away in a sea of imagination

As I go from each page to the next

Each book

A different destination

Where finally my mind is put to rest

Leaving all worries and troubles aside

I sink in each word

In each letter

Feeling ever so care free

The world moving

But leaving me

It feels so peaceful

Leaving this world

To enter anew 

It feels so right

To escape everything I'm going through

And then it ends

And for a minute I'm put in a trance

Then I see what I have to go through once more

Everything counts

Everything's real

So instead I get another book

Sit down

And float once again in this sea.

   -Hana H. Barakat

In the Mirror

When you have something special to tell

Or a secret buried deep inside

When feelings are burning in your chest

Or tears are rolling down your eyes

Who do you go to?

Who can you trust?

Who would care to listen?

Who would give you their time?

I'll tell you who that person is

The only one who gets it all

Who'll never leave your side

And will forever understand your soul

There aren't much people 

Who care anymore

But that person will always remain

The only one who's like this

You see when you look in the mirror

   -Hana H. Barakat

Grenade

You make fun of me

I hold my pain inside

But if I hold it more

I might explode

If I confess my anger

A baby is what I am

Yet if I don't

It just shows I don't even care

Either way they'll continue 

And I'll try to stay sane

   -Hana H. Barakat

Friends

Friends

Just "friends"

Does that word still exist?

They say friends never hurt you

Well, they're who hurt you most

For that "friend" is your worst enemy inside

You tell them all your secrets

Your stories

Your thoughts

Next day they tell everyone else

But

You're still "friends"

Friends

I laugh when I say the word

For it has lost all meaning

And now lays frail and decayed

It is with deep sorrow 

That I farewell such a gift

But I guess it was never truly mine to take

And I never found the person worthy enough

To whom I should give

   -Hana H. Barakat