Writing of WritingI felt like writing a poemAnd this is what I came up withI began to let my mind roamThink of thoughts so near to be of mythWhy yes, I'm writing of writingMaybe not quite uniqueMany ideas worth for fightingI not know, so this is my peakGreat ideas never come quickA new idea will soon beBut which shall I choose to pickJust wait, and we shortly we'll see
Mixed FeelingsIt's mixed feelingsDished in confusionAre you attractive in my eyes?Sure, I like your face,And your personality gleamsYet I'm not sureIf this is an attractionOr a great friendshipIf only I could tell you,I want to knowIf you feel as I doWe're nice friends,Yet a kiss from your lipsHas appeared in my day dreamsCould we ever fallUnder that spellThey title "love"?I don't know about that,But despite this mixI do know one thing:I love you.I'm not sure how I mean it,I just know that I do.
Death Is A Reward, Not AnswerPlease, don't cry -Don't cry because I knowThe reasons why you're crying,And I'm right here telling you;They're all wrong.Please, don't hold your tears -Sadness is an emotion to releaseWhen it builds so much as it's for you,And I'm right here to express to you, now;It's okay to cry.Just, don't believe the reasonsYou're telling yourself -And please, I begPut down the pills,You don't need them.Aside from it's not your time,There isn't enough reason!How many minutes will go byAs we're both drowningIn our own tears,Screaming at each other?How many hours has it beenBefore writing this poemThat we've yelledAbout why you want to dieAnd why you should live?None the matter,Stop saying you're a loser!Stop trying to convince meThat you're useless,And just quit with the actOf saying you're a freak.Stop.Please.Just...No.You're not.A loser can be defined as oneWho accepts defeat,And let's be honest here -When have you everUntil thi
World of WordsInterpretationsStyles, ideasThoughts in words,Yet not so bluntThey ask the pointA "why" here and there"Poetry and prose,It's all just words."They tell me,As if there is noDifferenceHow I laughWhen I ask in return"What have youEver written before?""WhateverThe teacherRequests"Is the common replyI don't laugh,For I feel too sad...Sorry for them.Pick your choice,Ink or lead,And place it onA blank pageLet your mind go empty,And enter a new world:One of wordsMove your fingersAnd letters shall formAnd yet...That's only the basisA story, maybePossibly a narrativeIn poetryWhat's your style?Open and blunt,This is whatHappenedI have a story to tell,But you must figure itOut on your ownDo you wantThem to knowYour thoughtsOr are you openTo perspective?Some may think,My examples aboveGo in the orderOf prose first,Then poetryBut only a true writerWould ever know...Because we cannotTell youBut if youThought that...I laugh as I s
Lucifer, Save MeLucifer, save me -Bring me home.Give me the heat of HellAnd release this painOf a frozen heartFrom my falling soul ~
Drowning AcrosticDaring oneself to continue on to the Rarest of depths as we all begin to Open up to the water as it gorges, Washing away the sins that have Now brought us to this very place. Dreams have already crashed, Rendered to burn in their little Obligated Hells in which we Wonder how we escaped so Narrowly with this chance. Dying bit by bit while Racing water takes On our souls and
My Life Lives For YouI'm sure I'm not the only oneWho has ever wondered whyThey were put here on this EarthTo live for and how to do soI've been called insaneSo many countless times forMy own personal belief overMy own personal 'why' I'm hereIt's in at least my own mindSince I was too young to evenKnow what I meant with it, butIt's my own personal belief thatI live here on this Earth we shareTo be here for others, I meanThere must be a reason to whyI've been blessed with the wordsI seem to share with many each dayI live by the rule of caring, withoutExpecting anything back in returnBut a true smile spreading your lipsMy life is far from a prosperous one,Aside from the family's income amountMy wallet is commonly empty, becauseThat money currently lies upon theTable of my friend's home for their useI care more about a stranger's lifeThan I do about my own, even with theSame exact problems we may share -Then again, going through my own helpsTo understand others in their trekAgain
Patient's WishesAll I want to know is when my actionsWill become my very last...Will my skin's nerves last long enoughTo experience summer's next heat?Shall my eyes bear that sun to the pointWhere I can view next Spring's bloom?If my nose can breathe in the scent againOf the sweets baked by my youngest?May my tongue taste once more the mintThat tells me the start and end to a day?Can these ears last to a point whereThey'll never have to hear a dead-line screech?I simply have the wish to liveOr at least know to give up now or later...
A Story Of HopeHere's my handTake it, entangle out fingersWe'll walk togetherDown this alley of golden petalsOff to find hopeIn a dreamland of imaginationJust promise meYou'll never release your graspFor it's the only loveI have left to feel in this heartStay by my sidePlease, never leave me in foreverOur worsts are aheadBut we can fight them togetherI can already seeThe golden gates of Hell nearRising open to usIn the distance that awaitsTighten your gripPromise you love me alwaysThere's no turningAnd I...I may not live through this,Not without you
And even still...Wishes upon a star,Like the brilliance of the sun,Fleeting like stardustBlink – it’s gone.And even still…The sparkle that is left behindNever fades easilyFrom the trenches of the mind. Flower petals,Like butterfly’s wingsAre fragile, be gentleOr breakage it brings.And even still…The powder left behind,On your fingertips it does dance,As it goes unrefined. Mirrors on the wall,Like shimmering water,It can distort the image,And the ego it does slaughter.And even still…The cracks it leaves behind,Do leave room to be filledWith the kindness of mankind.
BrokenCan't fixwhat's never been whole.
Save meUnder roaring sky, amid the angry waves,heard her piercing cry resound from deep below.All alone, I fight against the current.Out in dark, but lead by ardent heartpaying not the slightest heed towhat they call 'Insanity'Down the depths, the darknesspalls. I find my moon;dim, the spritesguide us back,back to - light.
Late OctoberOctober rain spills on top of fallen leaves; puddles of water over red, orange and yellow. Glassy pools of color raging in a last flourish of life. The drops are cool on the tongue and refreshing- sending a shiver down my spine as they drip down my neck.Autumn's rushing windLittle lakes of brilliant huesFields of thriving corn.
* Pet Mouse*Wheel turns rapidlyFour micro feet swiftly runAn endless journey.CuriosityWhiskers twitch and small nose sniffsHand invades the cage.Safe in owners palmMoved to capricious pocketCommodious dark.:iconmouse-plz:2014 Delice194116th January2014
(i want the truth)You left me behind, didn't you?
Behind the ScenesI'm suffocating,But nobody can seeThe storm ragingInside of me.I'm screaming,But it's silently,My throat is tired,From crying quietly.I'm dying,I need help bad,Someone help meBefore I go mad.I'm hallucinating,I'm seeing things,It seems to beWhat craziness brings.I'm bleeding,My heart is gone.My soul itself hasEscaped with a moan.I'm done,My body is weary.My eyes are heavy,I can't see clearly.I'm not breathing,Why cant you see?All this is going onBehind the scenes.
No OneHere I am,Standing alone,Waiting,For no one.
oneeven the golden memories go sour
What's Happening?"She seems like a whore" But I-- "You're kind of bitchy" People say I'm-- "He's cheating with you, isn't he?" What are you-- "You act like such a slut" I haven't even-- "You sure you're not a lesbian" Yes! I-- "God, you're so lazy" I am not! I-- "You never take anything seriously!" Maybe, but I-- "You're, like, a 9 on the scale" What? I-- "You're so nice all the time" I try-- "I never knew you were so deep" There's a lot of-- "You're what this place is missing" You really think-- "You're always so optimistic" Well, yeah, I-- "Everyone loves you" Are you-- "I think you'll go far" I dont know-- You ask me what I'm talking aboutWhen I seem so so confusedWhy won't you just make up your mind, everybodyIt's not like I've got something left to loseI'm beaten down and brought back upNow, every single dayIs this some sick tric
What Is Poetry?Poetry is the inner reflections of a Poet’s mindA grand staircase leading you down a spiral of emotionsTo a platform of fertile imagination and belief combinedIn a fluid realm of perception housing innumerable connotationsIt is the very fibre of the Poet's soul unveiledHarvested streams of consciousness strung up before the audienceThe shapes of the letters animating as the verse is exhaledAn embodiment of vitality as it reaches its peak performanceIt is the voice of the Poet too encumbered to speakA refuge within the tribulations designed to fragment all inspirationIt captures the essence of thought while indulging in mystiqueFollowing the trail left by the riddle of the Poet's explorationIt is the Poet's words of wisdom twisted into an elegant bouquetIts beauty idolised by few and wasted on those to rushed to embrace itBut fear not, for its immortality ensures its bountiful leaves will never decayThe sweet smell a reminder of a dream dared awake by the PoetPoetr
GirlThe test scores affect her,though she would never admit to the average individual.They tell tales of a students failing,not the simple strengths she bestowsin every day life.Her parents want it to effect her openly,but her pandoras box remains shut,for only some to pry open.Her teachers offer her help, which sherefuses time and time again;leaving the teachers to throw their arms up in defeat.Tutors hired, interventions planned out secretlyAll this worry for one girl hitting rock bottom.
Just because I can feel (A Poem)Just because I can feel, Doesn't mean I feel the doom, Doesn't mean I feel the pain, And only feel the gloom Just because I feel, Doesn't mean I'm weak, Doesn't mean I can't take, A harsh critique Just because I feel, Doesn't mean I can't think, Doesn't mean I'm not smart, And my logic is on the brink Just because I feel, Doesn't mean I'm wrong, Doesn't mean I'm irrelevant, Doesn't mean I'm not strong Just because I feel, Doesn't make me insane, Doesn't make me crazy, Doesn't make my eyes rain Just because I can feel, I can write this
Losing Battle.She’s fighting a losing battle,a war within herself.She is trying to get away from,all of the pain she has felt.All the grief, the pain, the sorrowIt swallows her body whole,She won’t get through tomorrow,the darkness has taken her soul.She cries herself to sleep at night,the tears roll down her cheek.She’s always trying to stop the fight,between an enemy ,she cannot defeat.She just wants it to be over,the war inside her head,it follows her inside her room,it wants her to be dead.She’s fighting a losing battle,a war within herself.She is trying to get away from,all of the pain she has felt.
2.54 centimetersI admire the way small letters shout.How a voice that’s both mineand isn’t-touches the skyline of every tearof every creviceof every line where my bones and muscles kiss.I’m an explosion of noisesthat’s too muchall at once;a collection of sundials praying for the moon with just a cupful of made up constellationsin her pocket. The way my feet pirouetteto the sunflakes of summerassuage the assonance of a sonderof souls-and the sillage of a million laugh linesare more than enough to make metremble.Had I known all the songs we’ve carved with our clefson my fourteenth birthday; I’d trade all my blown out candle wax for my skin to be papyrus;and my body -- poesy. I want to look at his blend of colours,
Alone With ImpulsesI stare at the clock,Willing myself to feel tired.It doesn’t work.I take a sleep aid.It doesn't work either.Sitting here alone,I drown the quiet with music.I know I have to keep it together.That doesn't send the depression running though.Every moment ticks byWith infinite slowness.Softly,My mind presents impulses.Mild ones first-Like a snack.Ever so stealthily,More psychotic impulses surface.I know I can’t-Won’t-Follow them.I just feel frightened by my own mind,And ever so alone.
Letting Time PassIn the distance I hear someone cutting the grassAs I sit here relaxing and letting time passI put pen to paper and set my mind freeAnd write of the beauty that does surround me As I look up at the beautiful blue skySome birds fly over way up highThe sun filters down through the treesAnd around me blows a gentle breeze In the distance I hear some children playingA dog also barking, I wonder what its sayingThe breeze gently rustles through the treesA dragonfly I see flying around with ease The roses are basking in the warm sunThe evening is near and the day soon be doneWith the summer almost over as autumn draws nearI’ll savour these moments as they’re all very dear Over the flowers fly butterflies coloured and whiteThere are clouds passing over but the sun still shines brightIt’s lovely to sit here and chill and relaxLooking around me just letting time pass
The CrowOnce upon a timeI knew how to fly;with the wings of purityand honestyI took the giant leapover the dark blue skyand the ocean beneathI never thoughtI could fall downand drown.My wings were made of steel;they shone the shades of silverand my heart was made of gold;or that was what I thought.The air under my wings:purity and honesty.I breathed my principlesand naivety.I reached my goals.I found the new land.But now I'm one of the crowswithout an ability to fly again
Strange SimilarityAvoid the similarityBe none to compareCan't see through clarityYou know you're rareBe strangeBe weirdBe oddBe uniqueDon't bask in familiarityStand-out and be of flareJust bask in your own rarityBe sure to be aware
Please sign up
or login to post a critique.