Illusions to get by…



I want to be here, in somewhere else

Not knowing


Moment by moment

In the second’s, others said I wasted

Relishing in each lazy haze

Where my completeness is your undoing.

Angela K. Crandall




Believe in your light to conquer the darkness.

Fight the voices of self-doubt, diving into your dreams.

Define yourself.

Angela K. Crandall



Slipping, sliding down the hills I remember it so well
Years have passed since I woke up eager on Christmas morning
Now all I want is my nice warm bed
Sleeping in
Friends who will be there til the end
Simplicities that seem so complicated
Going home
Waking up to family
Hoping it will come together in the end
When it feels almost, the same again.
Angela K. Crandall

Rage from the past. Still, rings true.

I am a women who doesn’t believe in what I am told, sold, instead I am bold, outspoken, unbroken yet shaken by society’s outward demands of those who hold the power said to keep the world together by madness ripping it apart through idea’s and beliefs that destruct while we use are hearts, they use their hands, idea’s to separate us, connections are more than one, but many made, accept the big picture be brave, choose love over hate, rights for all, don’t go into the stereo-type of someone’s barbie doll, or image, of who they want you to be, just be yourself, be free.

© 2013-Angela K.Crandall

Social needs

                 Filling up with unneeded things to replace what we cannot find. Is it wasteful? Useless? But it does make sense. An attempt, to fill a gap, an empty space, a void in life. It isn’t often it comes to a person without hard work. However, what happens when you’ve tried so adamantly, a hole is worn. As if, you’d kept that pair of sneakers on for months. Never taking them off, you continue to walk towards your destination. One never reached. Each time you stick out your hand to greet someone, embrace them, attempting to make contact you’re denied. When you’re not, it’s a passing by of acquaintances. It’s always, we should do coffee or let’s hang out sometime. Then time passes and nothing occurs. You yearn for new relationships of liberal knowledge. Friendships that cannot be overturned by differences. Still, those sneakers are wearing pretty thin. The souls shot like old skin. The paths I’ve chosen are unlike many. People turn their heads away. When they turn towards me, it’s in pity. When it’s not that, it’s for a need. I am there for you. I always am, I say. I’m not at all perfect. I am full of faults. When I thought I’d found a friend again, it was false. I used to think-most people were good. Now I am leery. Even now, I quickly open up. What’s wrong with me? How can I be so compassionate about others and their lives? Yet, when I am. I feel I’m in the wrong. Asking for someone to listen, to understand me. So it is easier not to upset the masses. I turn to those I have always known. Deep inside there’s a spark of hope. That I, will someday find a best friend again. One who lives close. For-there, are still a few who get me. They are just so far away. It seems impossible to connect. Facebook isn’t friendship, and I know people say don’t let distance get in the way but it does.-Angela K. Crandall©11/28/16

Occupational freelance


I tell myself, stay strong, keep hope next to your heart.

And one day, maybe things will change.

People will see the light you’ve been shining for so long without being discovered.

One person, who can change your life will acknowledge, what you’ve done.

The closed doors will open.

If I’m lucky, I’ll leave behind what kept me from moving forward.

It’s why I work so assiduously, to gain mobility through creativity perfecting my dream.

~Angela K. Crandall~


How do you hold hope?

If anyone can tell me how to be positive while I try to tread keeping my head above water as I cough up the crap that keeps coming in. It pours into me attempting to defeat my purpose. I plea to breathe again, for laughter to replace pain and emotional anguish. One person can not fulfill all your needs. Friends do matter.

Who I am to me.

People tell me all the time they like me. I no longer believe them. I’ve heard so many stories that I’m supposed to buy. It doesn’t taste like the candy sold in the convenience store. It’s more like sweet and sour. Often, times it’s not even that chocolate filled crap. I’ve got my words, stories, poetry, and songs. Everything inside this heart to move on. I fill my soul with dreams, keeping them close. As much, as you think, it’s shit. It gives me hope. Deep diving, trying not to dwell in the madness, I once believed, even though it hurts. I tell myself, all I need is me.
Angela K. Crandall


Free verse Poetry slam.