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Nylee Aug 2020
~~
all in the end
I'll always be unwelcome
whatever i contribute
I will remain invisible
this home won't accept me
but I still stuck around
trying so hard
~
~
hoping
in vain
one day
it will come
embrace me
~
~
I am leaving this place
but in my head
I cannot shake this feeling
that who would accept me
in the road ahead
I'd always be alone
walking through the forest
there is no one to call
my own
~
~
I reach the native land
it is by the sea
the waves do not reach me
the cool breeze skip over me
there is the absence of
the sun rays
~
~
but I am floating
in this helpless feeling
little more push
and I might just drown
~~
XyL0S Oct 2018
.

As I cried
and cried
and cried,

I longed to bleed
the words
poisoning
the tip of my tongue
till within,

As I wrote
and wrote
and wrote,

The tears had
faltered
sighed
and
settled,

Perhaps
poetry held me up
when I was
most alive,
And it still
carries me on
as I break and shed.


.
Poetry is _______?
Towela Kams Feb 2015
You contribute to poetry in ways I can't explain.
Don't be persuaded to believe your writing is in vain,
No matter what they say.
I think every poet MUST hear this every once in a while. Especially on days when we feel we can't write anymore and feel really dull. You're welcome! ;)

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