Scattered Through The Pages


Looking through my own journals I’m overcome with waves of emotion from the last few years. Hate, love, sorrow, hope and exhaustion plagued the workings of my mind so forcefully and so thoroughly. I feel so much in such a little slice of time that I find myself nearing the self destruct button over and over and over again.

Let’s be honest, some of the entries here, let alone my personal journal frustrate me in their lack of or over absorption of depth. That’s okay though. It’s personal growth. Inner evolution, if you will. I can accept my useless blabber because I understand it differently.

I remember feeling so incredibly down for such a long period of time that I just could not take it. I suffered horribly and mostly silently. It was only through half suppressed tears and scribbles on paper that it showed. If my journals could talk they would probably tell you that my words simply screamed ‘help me’ across each and every page.

Like i said though, it wasn’t all bad. I had moments of hype, moments of absolute bliss. They inevitably came crashing down harshly around me, but they were there.

I’m not sure why I’m saying any of this, or if any of you care, but I just felt like I needed to. I needed to get a few thoughts out there.


Angelina Rosa, writing diligently for you, Writingdilegently


Inner City Kid.


I grew up in a bit of a box that I ‘ll call the inner city. Its not to be confused with a small town in the middle of nowhere, no its far too big. I’ve lived here my whole life, aside from little vacations here and there. If you take it for face value you would rush right out of it and into the actual ‘city’, the part of the state with buildings that eat up the sky. I’ve had the option to go somewhere else, to go anywhere else, but I kinda like being an inner city kid.

Yes, it has its downfalls. Even in the nicest of areas you’re sure to pass by a drugged up homeless man or a toothless old woman. You’re friends will know the name of every type of drug regardless they’ve tried it or not and your teachers will almost certainly be from out of state. The kids are certainly rough around the edges, even the academic ones. Oh, and you can bet on never being able to relate to mainstream high school movies.

In my mind, the perks out weigh all this. The perk is that, when you have friends they will almost always stand by you. The perk is that no matter what you have so many people to learn from. The perk is that the outer city is just a few train stops away if you want to explore somewhere new. The perk is that you become more street smart. The perk is that you get to surprise people when they assume you speak in vernacular expression but you actually have an uninhibited range of brilliant dictation.

The perk is that you have a place that you can call home and you can talk to people with open minds.

The greatest perk of all, is that a day never gets dull.

I’m proud to be an inner city kid.


Angelina Rosa, Diligently Writing for you, WritingDilegently

To That Shady Girl


There we stood: Face to face on that date

Ready to launch attack in this debate.

I had my pros while you felt your cons.

We both tied poems to the facts we lit,

And to catch fire to the words you spit,

You pulled from quotes with power but no relevance,

And so I looked poorly towards your deliverance.

You see, from my mouth flows words not stolen from another

And from that alone you should call me mother-


For, when its needed, I can catch a rhyme

And call my quote all mine every time.


– Angelina Rosa

Diligently Writing for you, WritingDilegently

Showing Myself


Writing makes me cry sometimes. At least the words I don’t show many people. I haven’t gotten halfway heartfelt until my eyes are worn red from the cathartic energy flowing from them. Those are the darkest writings, the ones that I save for days when I can console myself and just push through. After the madness of words stringing through my brain, pushing at my temples, painfully true words are my worst enemy and my best friend. Not all the tears are sad. I’ve cried because of fond memories floating above my soul. Because I miss the good old days and because I’m excited to relive them.
Wiring usually makes me smile. Always, that is the outcome. It feels so empowering to know that your thoughts make sense. They hit words that flow and explore all possibilities. And it is beautiful.

Diligently writing for you, Writingdilegently, Angelina Rosa

Showing Myself: Entry 6


I think about people as individuals not groups. We all have our own things and our own experiences to bring to the table. Your age shouldn’t decide how much you are a participant in deciding things for yourself and the rest of the world. Teenagers should vote because we are the ones who will have to deal with these rulers longer. We should make choices for ourselves within reason because we ARE people too. The ratings on movies are backwards because people have forgotten that the world isn’t rated pg. If we were taught what’s real from the beginning, we wouldn’t be so lost now.

Diligently writing for you, Writingdilegently, Angelina Rosa

You must look professional


You must look
Ready to be on the book
Be on your very best
Shirts button downed and pressed

The professional way
Must be better than okay
Slacks zipped
Better have not ripped

But wait
I don’t want to work nine to eight
Let’s get a cape
To give that word a better shape

Describe them as working white collar
Nothing close to a bawler
Wearing a suit
Trying to shy from cute

How you define it makes me skeptical
Go to Google you’ll get the real fill
Someone who has complete knowledge or skill

So do not look down on me
For swapping those slacks for jeans
Or choosing a jumper
Instead of a suit
Or my colleagues
For having their skin colored in
Or their ear lobes long.
We dress for the jobs we want
Not the ones you expects us to get

– Writingdilegently

This girl


There was this girl
Who trotted with
Dead flowers in her hair
And dark skies over head
She smiled at rainstorms
And frowned at her reflection
And cried because of her classmates

This girl became spiteful
And her heart became cold

But then she met a friend
Her first in this world
And she smiled at a person
Instead of at her pain.

She pushed the darkness in her heart
And painted it on her nails
Drew it on her skin
Spelled it on some pages

And now
She lives in a hue of shades
Sometimes dark
But never quite dull.
She’s learning
And living
And feeling true feelings
She’s had love scapes
And heart breaks
And fights
And hugs
So many hugs

And you know what?
She wouldn’t take a single one back.
Not a single mistake.
Not a single dispute.
Because now she shines
Her own rainbow over head.

– Writingdilegently