Louder Than Before

How often are we labelled as victims by those who never truly understand our struggles? This poem is a response to the ones who dismiss our pain, wear false masks of care, and think they can break us. It's a declaration of resilience, showing that every wound only strengthens our voice.

You call me a victim, wear pity like a cloak,
As if my scars are a story you wrote.
Yes, I’ve been wounded, but I’m not weak—
Each cut, each tear, made my voice speak.

You claim to be a "good guy," parading your lies,
But I see through the hollow in your eyes.
You play with innocence, mock my pain,
Buying toys, taunting, thinking it's a game.

"Why haven’t you seen the world of lust?"
I navigate shadows; you feed on mistrust.
You measure love by the bodies you break,
While I rebuild from the ruins you make.

You say I don’t know love? Maybe you’re right—
I’ve fought to survive, clawing through the night.
But you, draped in deception, claim to care,
Then chase fleeting warmth in another’s stare.

You try to shame me, drag me to the floor,
But each word, each wound, makes my voice roar.
You won't break me; you make me more—
Stronger, louder, than ever before.

So, who’s really the victim here? The one who faces the scars with strength or the one who hides behind lies and fleeting pleasures? Every wound you inflict only makes me roar louder, stronger, and more defiant than ever before.

Comments

Amazon Worker

Hey there Amazon Worker, Do you think you pulled one over? Mocked my vulnerable side, only to protect your fake pride. I can’t fathom why I ever asked you to pamper and protect. Your wealth was never my concern, yet you watched my trust burn. As I began to share how I felt, you made a snide remark, hitting below the belt. Do you think I care if people change the way they stare? I’m no longer trying to hide; the girl you knew has long died. It’s amusing now that you said I remind you of your mother— What kind of devil hurts the daughter of another? Everyone says to forgive and forget since you were only a child. I would if you didn’t parade your weak masculinity, born of Rothschild. Your false grandeur can’t erase the damage done, I’ve found my strength and my journey’s just begun. If you thought you were good for my image, Know this: my growth surpasses your limits. I’m a woman whose name you can’t tear from the page, And I will stand tall, owning my own stage. ~ Kanika Kau...

Ocean’s Gentle Giants: The Manta Rays

17 September is a fun day, We are gonna learn about manta rays. Birds of the ocean world, so free, Gliding through waves with grace and glee. With minds so sharp, they're truly wise, Biggest brains for their size under ocean skies. Each one is special, a sight to see, With belly spots as unique as can be. They're gentle giants, calm and kind, But hands off, please, respect their mind. With long waits for young ones, they need our protection, Let’s conserve their world for future generations. Learn more about these amazing creatures and join us in celebrating World Manta Day

Not So Bhavya

Oh, drop the good guy act, You pretended to care, that's a fact. Someone who was hiding their own shame, Called me psycho and crazy, how lame. You tried to charm me with your coffer, Brushed off my pain, saying, “Stop it, or else I won’t buy a lightsaber.” You took all you could and then asked what I have to offer? Funny how you wanted to burn it all down when you lost your maker, But when I cried and screamed, called me a big faker. You claimed to know love, but never took the time, To understand my heart, my rhythm, my rhyme. You wrapped me in darkness while claiming the light, But all you offered was a hollow delight. Now your shadows fade, and I choose to ignite, I’ll weave my own stories, reclaiming my flight.

Cruising Alone

Search This Blog