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i bought a little budgie and put him a cage
i guess he didnt like it he began to  rage
so i bought a mirror to keep him company
hoping this would help him to be temper free.

then i bought a ladder put it in there too
now he could have some exercise like the budgies do
bought a little bell so he could make it ding
tap it with his beak so the bell would ring.

now he looked so happy i went of to bed
then when i arose the poor bird was dead
i bought all the things a budgie he might need
the only thing i never got was the budgie seed
Evan Stephens
O little cloud,
where have you gone?
You sink to wisp or worse.
Your grayness turns bone-white,
then a cancerous blue
until you are nothing -
no, you are nothing now.
Your grave is the air
that I breathe.

I sharply decline;
you, up in your vault,
waiting for the wet folds
that will crease you into rain,
while I in my mug-clutter,
my liquor-ploughed
library of ills,
try to cope,
come to grips.

Little cloud,
you died a long time ago.
You were reborn,
& died again. You've died
so many wet deaths.
I understand.
This is no world
to live in more
than a day or two.
Raven Feels
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't really know what I'm trying to say here;}

every word in poetry

I want written on my stone in the cemetery

they fly in the perspective

in every human eye changed-disrespective

no faults on the creation all undeniable artistic behavior

faithful not for me loyalty not a word to my savior

hands barely reaching a touch

others marvelous not asking much

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry
I don't know
if the air on the other side
is fresher or cleaner;
all I know is,
I'm suffocating here
Gonna change to a new job for better career growth; loved my company and the people I worked with
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
Dear Reader,
if you're reading this
it means
I'm dead
as a paper


to be etched
with the poem
I tried to write
so many times
when I was m-
Coral Florian
our hearts weep for this inhumane society that we live in
you say you care but we hear you cheering for evil and hate
you say you are a stand for righteousness but we see your arrogance

our hearts weep for the injustice to our communities
you say you care for our families but you throw rocks at us
you say you love our children but you trash their future

our hearts weep
I was there-
I emoted-
I read-
I tried-
But why-
can't anyone-
I mean, I'm not desperate for attention but an acknowledgement would be nice ya know?
Eshwara Prasad
You didn't treat me like a life partner. Instead, you treated me as if I were a model suitable for posing with you for a still photograph.
it was the last time
you ever kissed me goodnight
the day the moon fell
Delton Peele
hello ?
oh hi
is this poetry
it is?
oh write on
aye its me
I know and
Im sorry
I've been meaning to write
but Im not good at that type  
of thing
I just dont know what to say

um no
its allergies
ya no
letz see
"am I ok?"
not really
Im not tryin to be needy
but can we talk please
you don't have to agree or disagree
you don't have to
say or do anything
just really need some one to listen and
ya know what poetry
my whole life
you've always been there
for me
you let me  
and i love you
I hold it in the light
Tiny rays shine through
I rest it on my hand
No one sees, but me.
I will not share.

I rest it close.
I pull it off and never will I tell
what is and isn't.
I put it in the drawer
safe from sight.
Put away.
Dear Katie
I know why you hate me
Love Lani
If you ever miss me.
Come find me here.
Don't search too far.
I'm here.
I'm not lost.
I'm always here, in my poetry.
She was blonde
With Eyebrows having
Punjabi style
What was mistery
What was chemistry
Made it all irrelevant
And came into heart
to pierce with dart
Not injured but
feel tied and
Unable to hide.
what a dive
staying up
all night
just to jump
and die
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
nvinn fonia
fcking freedom hell yeah
My idea of a book is
buy something else
why bother
writing one
The day came when my pen no longer
Wrote your name
Comes in many forms
If I run scared in the meadows
If I cry underneath a willow,
Do you even care
Would you dare to follow?

You have seen me smile,
Have you ever listened to my cry?
Do you even care,
I bet you never dared.

The river is the first to mourn,
As I stand on the edge alone.
One last time,
To you I say goodbye.
When I was younger, I was told not to feel
"You'll just get hurt"
I listened

But then I see these people
Laughing and living

I disobeyed and felt
I was alive

But I should have listened
Now I'm hurt
Now I'm broken
Now I'm -
Slur pee
I make my own soup and I kiss my own boo-boos,
I tell tall tales about love, hell, and voodoos.

I cover up my sadness with jokes, smoke, and malice
Who knew living a tragic life could feel so lavish?

God and I have a pretty tight relationship
I talk to him every night when my fingers touch my lips.

I throw my bones at dogs and contort my soul for fun,
Chewed up, spat out. I’m just like everyone.

i still
do not know
the poem i've been trying to write
and maybe
that's because
i haven't been
writing one at all
or maybe it's because
the poem i've been trying to write
is not ready for paper
and maybe
i'm the paper
that's not ready for it

Yesterday I cried to the moon
as she wiped my tears away
made my worries disappear
so I could sleep again.

Today I smile at the sun
and it shines back on me,
what a wonderful world
to be alive;
to be me.
Caitlyn Fletcher
I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me
i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much
self care is extremely important. most days I fight my depression by putting smiles onto others faces, but forgetting about my once bright smile.
Jordan LC Murphy
Just burning up in solace
Like fallen stars and pretty comets ☄️
taylor styles
you told me i was pretty,
but you said i looked prettier on my knees.
Your scarf still smelled like you
So I wrapped it around my neck
for the rest of the night
and let myself imagine it was you
Longing has been my best friend for years
You might not remember my name ,
but i am still the same .
I am The bright sunlight before the morning cloud ,
the silence before the storm ,
the wicker and the worm .

I am in the bough of a tree ,
that whispers through its falling leaves .
that branch when you were a child when you used to seesaw on
me for a time .

For I am The word that sharpens you’re tongue ,
before a sentence has begun .

I am the arrow that is plucked from you’re bow ,
that tells you’re target where to go .

For I am the oxygen you breath in the night ,
You’re unspoken  thoughts both in the day and of the night .
like you and I on a carousel on a hot summers day ,
those dreams will fly away .

I am in the rainbow that
that spreads far and wide ,
that tell the rain clouds
where to hide.

I am in the words “ I can’t be there “ ,
when that train pulls away ,
and you’re clasping thin air .
When the fumes from the train ,
fill you’re lungs full of smoke .
and the cabbie says “ just you my dear ?

For when you are alone by the grave of you’re friend ,
I will be in the honeysuckle that flowers .

And when you’re world is full of sorrow
I am the binding that holds tomorrow.
I will be the silver lineing when the clouds are still there .
I can be the ray of sunlight that beams from afar ,
that hears you’re prayers ,
that shines down on you’re coffin ,
when heavens doors are ajar .
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

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
🪨    🪨    🪨
Like slabs of rock
fractured and flawed
over time and pressure
broken and thawed

Transformed by weight
below flowing sands
one day we realise
our flaws are diamonds
💎    💎    💎
Grace E
I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille
She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote
All is Nothing
Nothing is All.

"Is"  is  "Is"
And  "Is"  is not  "Is not"
For "Is  not"   is  "Is  not"

and vice versa.
Or versa vise.

For versa vice is its own
vice versa.
My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
For the better parts.
For the “soon”.
For my life to begin.
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.
Yesterday, April 8th, was my birthday. I wrote this poem two years ago, when I was 19 almost 20, and on my 22nd birthday I find that the website selected it as a daily and I have all these wonderful people saying wonderful things about my poetry. Thank you Hello Poetry, and thank you everyone else. This was the best birthday present I could have even gotten. (04/09/2021)
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
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