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Even the fallen leaves have something to protect ....
Poetry is
A way to find meaning
A way
To look into the soul
And find
Our true essence
When we look into our soul
We find the
Light of  
The formula
To find
Our way
Back Home
Is just one way
Of expressing
speak to me
cruel, degrading words
i won't feel a thing

i can't feel a thing

i've gotten so used
to being used
i am desensitized
to your silly
I need to let you go now. It hurts but it's okay. I'll be okay
don´t make her love you
if you are going to come and go,´

don´t tell her you´ll protect her
just to end up letting her burn,

don´t make her trust you
if you arent planning on answering her calls,

don´t pretend you understand her
just to get under her skin,

don´t make her show you her demons
if you aren´t brave enough to fight them,

don´t make her fell she is essential
if you are going to walk away,

don´t call to say goodnight everyday
if you want her to sleep when you forget,

don´t make her give you everything just to leave her empty-handed,

don´t make her believe you care
if you plan on dissapointing her,

Don´t make her yours
if you aren´t going to be hers´

Dont make her your bestfriend
if you don´t plan loving her ´till the end
Poem dedicated to the friends I lost along the way and to my fear of abbandonment.
Desiree Schort
I saw her standing there
Thin and frail
Dressed in shades of violet

She was looking at me
Through the chain linked fence
Rusted in the back

Where'd you go
I wanted to know
But she was just a glimpse
Namansa James Joel
Still can't tell where love lies
If it's inside & the heart is the source
Or out & the looks & gestures say it all
it was the last time
you ever kissed me goodnight
the day the moon fell
She gently fades from the lilac dawn sky
Life buzzing below has passed her on by
At the precipice of forever losing the light
Once noticed by all she lit up the night
Her heart breaks from the weight of the years
A rainbow shines sparkling from her fallen tears
Blueberry Ice
Nothing to prove..
                to people
who are counting on me..
                 l                p
                      l        a       a

Janet Doyle
What more is there to say?
The sun is shining bright,
The day is getting warm,
Promised a starry night,

Hey there, come on this way!
What else is there to do???
When you are here with me,
And I am here with you,

And we only have one day!
Just one quick life to live,
A minute of your time?
There’s nothing more to give,

And yet, you know I may,
Lead you somewhere far,
To a wilderness unknown,
Or to dangle from a star,

Cause life does go astray,
But we have just begun,
We’ll end up somewhere new,
Where all’s not said and done.

i am mine
before i can be
anyone elses
There is ice behind you’re eyes
I crave to entangle my coldness with yours
I want you deeply, I do not trust you.
You’re words are insightfully premeditated, ever changing and empty
I meet you’re gaze with anticipation of the sudden urgency too look away immediately, automatically and habitually
I must not love you, I must not love.
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)
Every second passing by
I die
trying to understand life
Not everything needs an answer.
The day came when my pen no longer
Wrote your name
Comes in many forms
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 -
Pop the cork, pour one
down the drain to symbolize
a new beginning.
t h e  p r e t t i e s t

f a c e s

h i d e

t h e  u g l i e s t

t r a c e s
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
a rough draft of your prized paper
a culmination of your favorite qualities
a curiosity turned commodity
i was never something you could save for later
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
Caitlyn Fletcher
I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me

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.
                          blood ribbons
                          in a
tree sap
               lemonade –
a m a n d a
call it what you will
i know i can create life
with just this thought
she accepted people’s bad behavior,
because she thought,
they went through  difficult things.
yet, she invalidated her own feelings,
even if she knew what she went through.
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.
taylor styles
you told me i was pretty,
but you said i looked prettier on my knees.
there had always been this stillness that the dark blues and sparkling lights brought when the day was no longer bright.

the comfort of the stagnant hours were cherished and perennial,
until the comfort of loneliness began to sting.

recollections of warm blankets and disney movies are now relics of a distant memory.

and now possessed by exile.
the beginning of where's my love by syml gives this writing it's true glory...
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
Grace E
I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille
A few days ago I felt
I was at one

I don't really know why I was
all down in the dump

But now I took out the trash
without me in the bag

Cause I said and seen a lot
to know now what's good and
what not

So I was at 1 feeling like my life
was down
It took awhile but I am at a 10
and this time I will not give in

To the darkness with in me
you can't control  me
I am doing a lot better and I will not stop working on  myself and I will always try to help other. And that's just me.
For the first time
in a long time
I can finally say
that I am
truly content
with my current
mental stability.
I'm gonna work at keeping it this way.
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
Every table turns, every turn twists
the truths began to shatter
truths on which I would subsist

The truths I knew changed like the tide,
weighing down heavily in my gut,
they lie inside, mummified

Now I live, free as the flock
I swing through the stars, honor my scars
learning about myself and taking stock
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)
Words gave me bad dreams
Words made me
See ma I’ve made it!
know that its not really a bad thing to realize these things, rather than not realizing them ever.
death has entered my dreams again.
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