THE ASHEN BLUE (Poetry)
  • Reads 590
  • Votes 120
  • Parts 54
  • Time 33m
  • Reads 590
  • Votes 120
  • Parts 54
  • Time 33m
Complete, First published Nov 09, 2020
To anyone that has ever loved someone so abysmally that you lost the way to love yourself. However, once you survive the catastrophe of that fallen love and you 
find yourself alone, battered and broken without a friend to confide in and everyone you trusted has fallen by the wayside with a new circle of friends that tarnish your image and you look yourself over in the mirror, feeling that life is over...

Don't blame yourself for what was meant to be...

The Ashen Blue is my autobiography in poetry form. My journey as an author began with poetry when I was eight years old. I hope you enjoy.

🏅 A Wattpad Stories Undiscovered selection for the month of October.
All Rights Reserved
Table of contents
Sign up to add THE ASHEN BLUE (Poetry) to your library and receive updates
or
#449blackpeople
Content Guidelines
You may also like
Pinwheels and Dandelions by cjacks1124
177 parts Complete
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
Pain Reconciled by Love by MamaSunflower3
30 parts Complete Mature
This book is published on amazon.com. I put it on here for Wattpadders to read for free! Have you ever felt so much emotional pain that you just wanted to end it all? Have you ever felt so much physical pain that you thought death was nearer than you had hoped for? Maybe you have felt one, but not both, or maybe you have felt both. These poems were written for those who have felt pain like no other. You may be your own worst enemy, but you are also your own best friend. Sometimes, no one is there to help you get up off that floor, so it is up to you to help your own self. Once you find that you can take care of yourself, you can take care of and love others. Humans need love to survive. If we didn't have love, we'd all be robots and simply not human. The love doesn't have to be from a significant other. Maybe it's from a best friend or close family member? Just know that we are all in this game of life together. So, let's live it with love. I had entered the deepest depths of pain and agony. I had given up on my life. I tried to end my life, and I would have been successful. Three people saved me that day, at the end of 2017. First, was myself. I had to come to terms with who I was and turn it all back around. I had to lean on my Creator, who was my second life saver. Jesus came to my aid and saved my life after I tried to take it. The third person who saved me was my husband. Before we met I would have died, but he needed me just like I needed him. I am alive for him, for my two sons, for myself, and for my Heavenly Father. "I couldn't make it stop, Until I met my rock. So, here are my words of wisdom, "Pain reconciled by love" is my rhythm." There is hope. There is a purpose to this life. Pain Reconciled by Love is full of heartache, but also full of beauty. I'm still alive because there is something for me out there. I hope this is the beginning to something beautiful. For you and for me.
It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice by Beautiful_Slugger
57 parts Ongoing Mature
Inside you will find a mixture of both, extremely RAW and refreshingly HEALING accounts of my personal war with my past. Unfortunately, Childhood sexual abuse is far too common, and many of share similar experiences. Looking back, what I could have used more than anything was someone to tell me "You're not alone, there is a lightness through the darkness, you can heal from this and most importantly don't EVER stop telling your story to make others comfortable". I've learned that silence is the best weapon for a predator, and I for one, have never been really good at doing what I'm told. I don't intend on starting now. I wear my scar as reminder that I hold the power in my own story, it is mine to tell and I won't make myself sick keeping quiet because my truths are hard to swallow, other people's comfort is not my problem. My Goal is rather simple, to let the readers know, they too are not alone. If you are a survivor, even if you still feel like a victim, this is my personal message to you. "You are strong, and it wasn't your fault. Tell someone... tell anyone...tell everyone... We shift from victims to survivors when we speak up and tell our stories. There's nothing wrong with you, and the light will shine again. The longer you sit in silence the more power your abuser still holds over you, wipe your face warrior, because there's a lion right inside of you, DONT EVER GIVE UP!" *This story is FULL of TRIGGERS, please be careful reading if triggers are hard for you, your mental health matters* *I own all the Rights to all parts of this book*
Thoughts of a Juvenile  by jyfvjhtv
51 parts Complete
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.
You may also like
Slide 1 of 10
Pinwheels and Dandelions cover
Candid |✓ cover
Pain Reconciled by Love cover
Prison/Freedom cover
It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice cover
UNDERCOVER  SOULMATING cover
Evolution  cover
Thoughts of a Juvenile  cover
Message Not delivered... cover
Candles of the Night: A Book of Poetry cover

Pinwheels and Dandelions

177 parts Complete

I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.