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 1517° 
Unknown Girl
The roses have wilted, The violets are dead. The demons run circles, Round and round in my head. The parents are crying, Their kids keep on dying.
Because that's what modern society bred, And nothing was said.
 473° 
Shwetha sb
Heart is the door
which opens wide,
                         and
Anger is the lock
who trying to lock,
                      never
                       ever
                        got
                      to.  Y
   ­           S.               E
         U.                       K
      C.                              e
   C.             L                    h
    E          s      O              t
   ­   E      a.         V.        s
           D,               E   i
Don't allow your heart to lock with anger.
Teach them to love... As love is the un-lockable key....
 327° 
SHREYA
when I die
do not burn me
or bury me inside the ground
instead cover me in ink
and surround me with papers

- a poet never dies
 250° 
joe machetto
once there was
laughter here
now just silent
lunar landscape

boarded up arcades
rusted carousel

strings of broken lights
twisting in the wind
 213° 
Tanya


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.
 163° 
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)
 106° 
Kenneth Knowlin Jr
As you sleep peaceful
I’m wondering if you can feel the love
From me.....
To you .....
 88° 
Grace E
I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille
 66° 
Erika
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.
 66° 
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
I makes $7.50 an hour. I sweep up behind others.
I's gittin to be an ol man. My two uncles got lynched outside of Greenville.
I quit school when I were 13,
but I served my country in Vietnam to **** our enemies.
Lost most of my left arm. Makes it harder to push a broom.
I takes the bus to home and work.
Thanks to Mrs. Parks I don't have to sit in the back no more.
I go fishin to get away from it all.
Catfish--that's what I like to catch.
Fry 'em up real good.
When I was a kid, had to get off the sidewalk
to let them white ladies go bye.
To be honest, things hasnt changed much in Mississippi.
Don't go out in the night--you might get shot for no good reason.
I's still remember the KKK in them white robes.
All them burning crosses.
Now them folks where coats and ties.
Well, I gots to *** back to work or theyll kick me out.
You have a good night, ya hear.
Thanks for bein so nice to me.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
 65° 
kmr
My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
Waiting,
For the better parts.
Waiting,
For the “soon”.
Waiting,
For my life to begin.
Because,
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)
 61° 
Ay
I thought I'd be devastated and heartbroken,
But I'm at peace.
 50° 
Khoi
Concern are of great value
and peace will turn
the earth green
 49° 
Sophia
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
 49° 
Rebecca
Sweeping the steps
Dealing with death
Making it a normal day
Thinking it won't be
Thinking of the hurt
Sweeping the steps
Deep in memories
Make it go away
Let me have her back
Make it a normal day
 44° 
Chris
I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.
Enjoy
 43° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 40° 
Chamomile
being younger, i remember
begging mom for the bright
yellow cough drops, thinking
that just because it's not candy
doesn't mean it wouldn't be sweet.
i suppose that's how i felt with you.
that just because you weren't like
everyone else, you might still be sweet.
well, as the saying goes, mother knows best.
the cough drop was bitter, and so were you.
 40° 
Savannah Kajdan
I finally found it
A place I have longed for
A place I might be forgotten
Or possibly remembered more
Either way I don't dare care

What for?
Because if I do
I might no longer belong there anymore then before
      
                                                   ­    S.Kajdan
 38° 
No-one
It’s fun to confuse people
Who are on the outside
They wish to understand
But ACCESS DENIED
Hey S 😂
 34° 
Stéphanie
When I was seven years
I tried for the first time to pray
On my knees, hands folded
Thanked him for all the richness
But no response to my covey
Maybe he is busy right now
I will come back another day

When I was eleven years
I tried once more to pray
Sat down with my rosary
But God wasn’t there at all  
He still had nothing to say
I figured, he doesn’t exist
There is no one to repay  

Then I was sixteen years
And instead of trying to pray
I tried to find all the richness
Again I couldn’t find God
Yet I found out that day
I have to thank this universe
As much as I can anyway
Please let me know what you think!
 33° 
lost cause
if i wrote my future
all would be changed
from the way i was raised
to the thoughts in my brain
if i wrote my future
no love would be lost
so i’d stand right beside you
no matter the cost
if i wrote my future
i’d bring nothing but peace
and save you from sorrow
and the darkness that creeps
if i wrote my future
you’d still be here
but you wrote my future
and i did nothing
but stare
 32° 
Brendann
There are approximately 470,000 words in the English language

4 syllables in “Hey, How are you?”

9 letters in “Beautiful”

3 words in “I love you”

And still

I can’t find a single thing to say

When your smile accidentally makes my day.
Free Verse.
 31° 
Eric Pratt
I stared today at rough-hewn hands while lost in troubled thought.
Memories of wrongs they’ve touched and happiness they’ve fought.
Foolish choices, and choices not, were villains all the same.
My hands, it seemed, the sculptors of a gallery of pain.

Pondering these tragedies, my mind adrift and cluttered.
When suddenly a butterfly from the darkness fluttered.
And through my aching self-despair her hopeful glow transgressed.
Upon my wretched fingertip she gently came to rest.

She looked at me and turned her head, I followed with my own.
Her eyes began to smile at me with love I’d never known.
The warmth of her affection spread and overwhelmed my fear.
I saw her lips begin to move and brought her to my ear.

“These hands of yours you gaze upon are gentle, as you see.
I trust in you with all I am that they will not hurt me.
Actions taken, others’ tears are not one and the same.
The strength of caring does not have to carry with it blame.”

I whispered back “How do you know this gentleness is true?
I’ve never heard such lovely things from anyone but you.”
“Then I will stay, right here,” she said, “if you will hold me tight.
Keep me safe with loving hands and I will be your light.”

I owe to her my everything for now I understand,
How magnificence personified could love these troubled hands.
I’ve held her close, my life and back, and though I’d lost my way.
I’ve found my light, she is my love, my hope, my every day.
 28° 
Kyrie Hajashi
I watch the city burn
Through the vignette windows
Of tear-gassed souls.

And hell's fire ablaze
Between cracks of tears
Of childhood fears
I still cringe when I meet someone with your name

Your name

Like the slowest poison
It never leaves me

Just slowly eats away

Ah your name

How I wish I could eradicate it from my soul
 26° 
jeffrey conyers
Guilty!
Instantly, seem to be the word.
So before you say he is guilty.
Realize, some of the women aren't sitting pretty.

Before you say, she is the blame.
Realize, he does have a side to tell.

And somewhere the truth will emerge.
So, why we want to sit and judge?
 26° 
Traveler
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
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
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
 25° 
Diana
You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.
 25° 
Nathan Wilcox
the N word exists
theres a bad word for gays
even a C word for women
with little to no faith
What I'm trying to say is
threaten the base
win a name for your face
 24° 
AbdullaJabr
You will always be to me,
Surrounded by a dark, black, flowing sea –
Its waves and textures enticing me.

For I, a sailor so obsessed,
My fascination with your ocean in unrest,
Has me completely possessed.
In a beauty so limitless,
From its roots to its depths.

I drown in it fearless –
 24° 
allure
we are but the sand and the ocean.
you are the sand
warm, fine, comforting, golden
people always seem
to walk all over you,
but not me
for I am the ocean
deep, brave, pure, peaceful
and I try so hard to get to you
but every time I push myself
I always end up trickling back to where I belong
it's not fair
I want to belong to you

c.p
Check message
Facebook
Check message
Instagram
Check message
Send message
Wait
Check
Look;

When did relationships
Get defined
By a read receipt?
Will we
Now
Only measure intimacy
By a tweet?

What do we have left,
Why can’t we
Go back
To laughter
In a diner seat
 20° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

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
 20° 
REY
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
 20° 
Andrew Gomez
You asked me to hold you.
I held you.
You asked me love you.
I loved you.
You asked if I would leave you.
I said never.
You cried for me.
I cried for you.
Yet our words meant different meanings.
 20° 
julianna
when I told my therapist that I felt lonely,
she said in response that
she didn’t want to belittle my experience
and I only half-heartedly believed her
when she told me that we all feel lonely,

but darlin’ I know you’re so lonely.
at the end of the day, we’re all in this together.
 20° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 17° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 16° 
Mistry
Because of you I hurt another
Who could have been my first true lover
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