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I write prose
poetry to
I'm a product of
poor upbringing
Ankita Gupta
By design, you put roof over me
By nature, I need the sun
As the sun sets
The leaf sits up
Asking boldly
For the last light
This vulnerable leaf
Opens its heart
Instinctively surrendering
To love
i can’t commit to anything
can i?

not people,
not plans,
not schedules,
nor times,
i can’t even do a daily write daily.
Christopher Westra
Our Mother
With our care - we now cover

Rebuilding your soil
With intention and toil

We are sorry
To make you cry
And drain your rivers dry

Our Mother
We now strive
To help you to revive
That all can prosper
And survive

Thank you
For teaching us
That every drop of water
Every blade and leaf
Every creature
Makes a difference
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I've been studying Geology lately so I've been learning a lot about Mother Earth and her intricate workings.
Vraj thakkar
I try to find you in the rainforest, but cannot chase you in these infinite gigantic woods,
Though I see you in the white dress with that pretty smile, but you disappear till I reach you,
Every inch of the rainforest chants your name, you influence the weather and the colour of the hue,
I was blinded by the clouds and knowing the mistakes I made, I myself shall correct them too,
One day I'll storm, rains will wash away the fallen leaves, and I myself shall destroy the roots,
I wish I could keep the good memories, the fruits and the flowers, but I won't keep even the smell of you.
This one raw and for the sake of posting, may not be written that well so pardon me.
Aliza Jennifer
something i hate about myself
Reach the light
Look at stars,
They are so far
I catch a shooting star
to burn fire
in my heart.

I know what I want
In me, someone
tryna be number 1 #
be the only one
great as the sun.
I know it's so hard
a pillar wish to fly,
the winds wants to find
where it belongs.
Nothing will be wrong
to follow what we love
And I'll be strong
to reach the light.
I haven't written a poem for long time
in life there're a lot of things to carry and I was kinda confused.
Sleep is pleasant
I think,
Although I wouldn't know for sure.
You can turn of the world
For a bit,
And so I can't hear the roar.
Andrew Gomez
Be a sunflower.
Turn towards someone.
Help them.
Guide them.
Nurture them.
Your warm radiating energy will do.
Hug them.
For they need it.
Mr Shankley
I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.
The siren sings her lullaby
Pulls me by my hair
I reach for the surface
Kicking, screaming
She drags me under
Bleeding, Dreaming
Eloise Rose
Every flower I touch wilts
And decays
That is why I carry a bouquet
Of dead flowers
Because you cannot **** what is already dead
I am so sorry that I will break you but death follows me around
Leila The Kiwi
You provide
The illusion
Of shelter

But without
A solid foundation

I can only
Stand this
For so long.

looked for
love in
closed lips;
being deaf
to all the
rest calling
her name.

Why do we always love what we can’t have?... #D
A whisper,
A glance.

Their eyes are like hooks
Latching into my soul
Demanding for secrets.

I come to you
You, my bedrock
But I see guilt
I see scorn

And I understand.

A whisper,
A glance.
Marisa Lu Makil
I'm a bit fragmented
Warded up
With layers
A whisper of
"Don't get too close"
I'm a little too-easily broken
None too strong
All I need
Is a little warmth
And maybe I'll begin to grow
If only
I could trust
That someone else
Will handle me gently
If only this shell
Weren't made of glass
I might not shatter
Under the weight
Of all the "maybes"
Dripping into my ears
But every atom
Has a breaking point
You simply need to know
From what height
It must be dropped
Not my best work, I'm not my best self. Today I just feel... Sad?... overwhelmed?...Worthless? I cannot find the word, but I know I feel broken and I feel there is no one to glue me back together.
Jon York
Inside you

is where I want to



within the folds

of your mind


the sweet softness

of your soul,


as I release my love

deep within you.
                                     Jon York   2019.
Caroline Ward
I said I'm sorry
I need some time
You said
That sounds
Just like goodbye
And I couldn't
Tell you
So goodbye
Was all it was.
Time heals all wounds,
Unless you're dead,
Then time stops and heals nothing at all.

Memories are left stagnant,
Fading with the passing of each day,
Then time stops and the memories are gone
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
Strange, the Hellopoetry computer demanded I put two stars on this poem to repost it to the front page... But it was worth it, it’s been on here for over a year now, I appreciate it Elliot.

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
Dear me,
Don't just sit
Rise, and pursue greatness.

Don't just watch
Go after what you want.

Don't just exist
Strive and start living.

Don't just dream
Work hard and aim for success.

Don't get tired
Keep hiking until you get to the peak.
She needs a hare to fill the missing blocks
She needs a guide to help avoid the flock
A lover a reminder that’s she’s never alone
A comedian to get a laughter’s loan
A sick Santa to not gift tears on missed birthdays
A lullaby to swift sleepily from yesterday
She needs a hare to brush as mom rides the highs
A hairy being when no human beings is neigh

A fat hare eating rabbit food like her skinny dad
A big cheeks hare like his cheeks when mad
A friend for the bereaved until his death clarify
She needs a hare to stop her from asking why.
I wish i had a hare to comfort me when my dad left and never came back. Honestly it feels like his dead because i will never see I’m again
I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.
I cannot change it
I cannot change the past
Reliving memories keeps me up at night
It's hard enough as it is
Rewriting them only adds to the pain
So many things I said and did
And so many I didn't say or do
But why
Why after all this time
Can I not stick it in my head
That I cannot change the past
And why
Why can't I believe myself
When I say that
I can only change the future
Run down the unknown path

I'll wait

I can't believe we're here tonight

How strange it is to be laughing with Sage


I get lonesome sometimes

She had a face straight out of a magazine

and your heart  begged to be adored by her

and I'll never know whether you still wish for a girl like her
I know you.
Sometimes you say things, expecting that I won’t understand, and I think it’s strange because
I know you.
That’s what this is. I know you,
And I want you,
And I care about you
Don’t want no one else.
You might not know me,
The stanchions you use to prop yourself up eating all that I have fed you,
In the darkness,
In the night,
But I know you.
And I want you anyway.
Fynta Sidime
I like you
No like I really like you like you
I mean you’re the one I like
The one that I really want
But I guess that’s simply not enough
I like you but not enough
You like me but won’t admit it
So it’s just not enough
the like alone is not enough
They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
I used to turn my brain off for days
But now I think in waves
Incessant slideshows

of you
Agony, is such a pity
Kenneth Cledera
At a glance, not oneself was visible,
unaware of branches' stretch
but a hint, a shadow: moving foliages
,and leaves of september.
Till the chasm fronting it, submit
itself to summer rain and midnight cry.

At a glance, not oneself was visible:
Only a fissure beneath the cumulonimbus
covering it with lapiz tears, three meters
deep, and not oneself invisible.
Crystal Freda
Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
Spire sent a love letter to the foundation stone

“Pressed on your face
Perseverance true
Weight of mistakes
Gathered through
A load of snags
Share with me too
For I shine here
Because of you”

The stone replied

“No one’s fault
I tell you
Sins I wish
stay with me too
For if they don’t
Own their mistakes
If not me
Tell me who”
I poured myself
inside your cup
pretended to be tea
your lips pursed to the rim
burning kiss
bile churns
you forgot
I'm made of sins
Why do you have to be the moon?
when you can be the star with your own light!
Chani Goldstein
Although I have
Nothing to say
I still want
To sit quietly
By your side
And take in
Our love
Luna Maria
are the ink
for the pen
a poet uses
to write
- L.M.
God said that I was his favorite,
but the Devil leaned and whispered:
"I used to be his favorite too."
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