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If our love was a flower
Would it be wilted and dead?

If our love was a flower
Could morning rains breath life again?

If our love was a flower
I am the bee
Giving you what you want
Taking what I need

If our love was a flower
What color would you see?
I would see you
As beautiful as could be

If our love was flower
Would we be picked for a vase?
Or would we grow wild like the meadows on the plains?

If our love was a flower
I would water you right

If our love was a flower
You would be by my windowsill at night
So that at mornings birth you could be kissed by my sunlight
‘i don't know who u are anymore'
i don’t either
never knew i’d lose myself
Grace E
The term “love wins” is true,
Though gravely misused.
The worldly kind of love,
Which is often the attached definition to this term, never truly wins.
This love, which is ****** in nature,
Only leaves it’s participants more empty, and loveless than before.
****** love, when abused and mishandled, taken outside of its intended context, leaves you more empty, drained, used, and void of TRUE love than before you engaged in it.
You will never feel completely fulfilled with only ****** love, and how sad, to base your entire identity on how you like to have ***. How empty a life, to march under a flag of your selfish, ****** preference, rather than something truly meaningful.

Love wins, yes He does. love wins, because Jesus Christ, who was love in flesh, won, when He died on the cross and paid for the sin of the entire world. Including the ****** sin mentioned above. Love wins, when you ask Him into your heart, and believe in Him as your savior, the one who made the weighty payment for your soul, so you could spend forever in the presence of God, where the Bible says, there is “fullness of joy and pleasure forevermore.” Don’t chase fleeting pleasure, that lasts only for a moments at a ****** ******. Choose pleasure that nourishes your soul, gives life to you spirit, opens your eyes to perceive the kingdom of God. Choose that. Choose Jesus. Choose love.
Love wins.
Deadwood Jawn

H́ͨ̆ͪ̉­ÍªÌˆÍƒÍ¨Ì›Ì´ÍŸÌ«Ì¥Ì³ÌªÌ˜Í…̫͙̟E̶̊͒̔̀͛̌͡͏̛͉̦͚͚͔͝ ̵͑̔͗ͥ̉̐͋̈ͥ͒͑̋ͨ̍͂̚͏͕̼̲̫̥̫̮̙͖̤̮͖͓̲͍͍̀̕W̢̹͕̫͇̙̞͇̪̌̋̆̔̃͛͛ͩ͐̊̃ͨ̅ͮ̍͊̈́́̚­Í‰Í•ÍÌžÌ±Í…Í…Ì A̛͆̋ͩ̓͋̓҉̶͙̣̹̥̩̘̪S̡̃ͤ͗̒̐̊͛̍̕͞͏̰͍͖̥̦͎̻̱̪̪̙̭̫͔͚̘̣͉ͅ ̵̉̈́̌̾̿ͪͤ̃̈́͏̡̗̪̦̹̪̟̞̪̗͇̯ͅN̸̢̨̺̱͉͙̝̖̣̻̺̳͔̮̱̜̪͚̠̤̜ͬͮ͐ͤ̋ͪͩ̇̂̀͊̉̏ͦ̏̌ͧ̑­O̵̡̹͓̣͙̘͈̩̳̫̼̖͙͌̂̃̚͘͠Ṭ̢͓̭̦̣̗̩̭̪͉͓ͤͬ̋̎̓̾̔͛͛̔͂̾ͬ̄͊ͦͥ̅͡ ̧ͩͤ̑̿̿̇̚͘͏̢̛̯̬͍̹̳̘͇̥̩̣̩̟̤̺͉A̶̴̬̗͍̥̞̞̩̝̩̣̰̳ͯ̎ͥ̏̃ͮͤ̆̋̏͜͜Lͨ̀̄̏̓̉̋͆̋̇­Í¥ÍÍ’̸̧͔̼̰̪̱͕̞̺̬̼̘̟̭̅͗͠͝͠W̧̖͙̞̪͙͙ͮ̑ͥ͆͛̌̽ͭ͐̌ͩͦ̓́̚̚͘ͅA̰̺̝͙͖̻̹̘̣͌ͨ̾̓͢͜­Ì¬Ì£ÌºY̢͎̹̩̺̦̬͚͉̲͎͓͉̅̄̽̅̎̏̎̌͂̃ͫͭ͞͞S̴̵̨̠̞̖̠̳̖͇̓̇ͧͮͥ͗͑̅̃̾͗͂ͨ͊́̆ͨ͢͢ ͦ͌̌̃̋̒̽͜͏̴̧̪̯̻͙͇̙͈͉̠̠͇̜͈͇͍̣͕̞͢L̵ͪ̊̏̃ͭ̒͊҉҉̞̰̣̥̺͙̣̥̳̠̹̭̘̜̜̙Iͨ̂ͬ̑̿͋͐­ÌƒÍ‘̲̗̹͓̠̜͕̞̞̻͙̞͚̼̫̲̞̣̟̓̃̂͊͛̅̓ͥ̕͜K̅͊ͤ̃̊͂ͮ͊͒̒̎̿҉́͡҉͏̖̯̜̜͔̪̖̟̙̞̺͎̦̖̠E­Ì¾Ì½Ì‚̶̶̵̪̱̺͍̫͎̣̾̒ͣ̀ͬ̏̐̿ͭ̿͟͡ ̸̧̡̞̠̻̟́̅ͮ̋̕͢T̡̢̼͕̝̠̼̩̜̜͓̠̱̘̜̲̦́͆ͩͨ̈͊ͮ̆̈͑͐̚͜͢͝ͅH̡ͫͧ͛̐ͦ̋ͣ̔̓̾͆͐ͥͯ̚͢­ÍÍ•Í‰Ì¤Ì«Ì¹ÌŸÍ‡Ì­I̷̧̨̒ͬ̇ͬ̾̆ͬ̂̌͌͏͍͍͔̖̮̪̖͓̰͎̪Ş̴̰̭̜͓͚̖̯̦͇͓̞̹̼̺͖̐ͪ̐̅͒̚̕͘

He wasn't. Thanks for understanding, Lydia.. Lydia is angry.. Someone's hurt him..
This is Lydia speaking.
because we never said goodbye
the end was utterly relentless
Palak Datta
   I   '   m
  n   o   t
   f u s e d ;
  M a y  b e
   a    l   i   t   t   l  e
   c   o   n   f   u   s  e  d  .
  I ' ve    s  t  i  l  l    g  o  t
  a    l  o  t   o f   f  i  g  h  t
  l   e   f   t     i    n    m   e ;
  I ' ve    s  t  i  l  l    g  o  t
a   l o  t   o f   l i g h t
   l   e   f   t     i    n
    m  e . . . . .
Edison did not just invent the bulb;
He created a bright future by not giving up.

Last night I thought I would never get up. But here I am today.
Its not falling that scares me; What scares me is never wanting to get up again!
I'm not sick,
I'm not mad,
I'm not disappointed,
I'm not surprise.

Look closer, Hear me more.
Can't u see?

I'm hurt.
It hurts, so bad.
Luis A Estable
I kissed a girl upon the cheek.
She told me, 'Kiss me on the lips."
I was surprised, I could not speak,
And hurriedly I ran away.

Another day the girl I'd see
And dared to kiss her on the lips.
She told me, 'Don't be so wild and free;
Next time just kiss me on the cheek."
You don't really care, Do you?
You don't want to know, Do you?
Your just asking to be nice, Aren't you?
Your just giving me pity, Aren't you?

You never listened.
I was always wrong.
I was never good enough to be your special one.

And to be thought as your one and only,
Makes me feel so lonely

Because I know
That to you,
I'm just a toy.

;-; I am literally terrified to show this.
The face in the mirror
the look in the eye's
that reflection ain't me it's just a disguise
the fading of hair
the wrinkles that bend
it's just a life story that's told on my skin
this man in the mirror he ain't really me
their's a child inside that want's to be free
that woman of mine you could say she's the same
sometimes in the covers we laugh and play games
but as I get old and my life bears thin
I think of the fun
and think of the friends
so you could say i'm kind of bold
it's just a part of getting old
A poem my dad wrote on his 45th birthday
we all thought it was funny but truth is
I think it was the greatest one he ever wrote
The wind of change
the wind of Revolution,on our sails
  soon it will sweep across all countries
all over my beloved continent
Stronger than the harmattan I hear it is
the cry has been heard
the wails are too loud
the battle lines drawn
young nigerians say no to tsars
and hell noooo to SARS
message is one #abolish SARS
a united no to oppression
fear not their portion
Beginning of the end
they are ready
ready to reclaim the soul of Africa
message is one from young Nigerians
we want to live,we want to be safe
Respect our existence
or expect our resistance !!!
if I were
to believe
in forever
I will be
When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.
┌▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄­┐ ▐▀░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▀­▌ ▐░▀▀▀█▀▀▀░░██▀█▄░░█░░░░█░░█▄░░░░░░░▄█░░█▀▀█▄░­▌ ▐░░░░█░░░░░█▄░▄█░░█░░░░█░░█▀█▄░░░▄█▀█░░█░░▄█░­▌ ▐░░░░█░░░░░███▀░░░█░░░░█░░█░░▀█▄█▀░░█░░█▀▀▀░░­▌ ▐░░░░█░░░░░█░▀█▄░░▀█▄▄█▀░░█░░░░▀░░░░█░░█░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐█▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀█­▌ ▐┘░░░░░░░░█▄░░░▄█░░█▀▀█░░█▄█▀░░█▀▀░░░░░░░░░░└­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░░█▀█▄█▀█░░█▄▄█░░██▄░░░█▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░░█░░█░░█░░█░░█░░█░█▄░░█▄▄░░░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░█▀▀█░░█▄░░░▄█░░█▀▀░░█▀▀█░░█░░█▀▀█░░█▀▀█░░­▌ ▐░░░█▄▄█░░█▀█▄█▀█░░█▄▄░░█▄▄█░░█░░█░░░░░█▄▄█░░­▌ ▐░░░█░░█░░█░░█░░█░░█▄▄░░█░█▄░░█░░█▄▄█░░█░░█░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░█▀▀▀░░░█▀▀█░░█▀▀░░█▀▀█░░▀▀█▀▀░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░█░▀█▀░░█▄▄█░░█▄▄░░█▄▄█░░░░█░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░█▄▄█░░░█░█▄░░█▄▄░░█░░█░░░░█░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░█▀▀█░░█▀▀▀░░░█▀▀█░░█░░█▄░░█░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐░░░░░░░░█▄▄█░░█░▀█▀░░█▄▄█░░█░░█▀█▄█░░░░░░░░░­▌ ▐┐░░░░░░░█░░█░░█▄▄█░░░█░░█░░█░░█░░▀█░░░░░░░░┌­▌ ▐█▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄█­▌
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!
tainted black
closed her
eyes and took
a very deep breath,
crossed her fingers then
w  h     i     s    p   e    r     e   d,
"I long to see the   o n l  y
man who made me
shine in his
Let your eyes linger
in the shadows

Your vision adjusts
the light shifts

Hush now

Wait and see
what watches you
lingering in the shadows
Jake Phillips
Sorry I haven't been
my mind will not
JL Smith
It's been said,
If you love something
Let it go

So you did
And I'm free,

But I'll return

You love me

© JL Smith
Is it the words whispered
in secret corridors
i love you

are they proclaimed boldly
from roof tops

Or maybe love
sounds like laughter
giggles shared only between two

what if love has no noise
its beauty is similar to a sunset
seen and felt
but never heard
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
Maria Mitea
A child's smile
A cup of tea
A walk in the woods
A fleeting sense of serenity
An eruption of joy
A magic moment
in the labyrinth
of our existence
Poetic justice
I once had a bright vision,,

Now I'm trapped in my own head,

That has become my mental prison!!
Blood, I feel it drip down from my wrists on to the floor. While I watch I see what my life would've been, but why do I make this mistake. It will affect me but I still do it. I cut deeper to make the pain go away but causing more pain and I don't stop. I'm waiting for someone to help but no one does, I finally decide. What's the point if no one comes they won't notice your I’m gone anyway.
I'm not stable enough for love
I'm not kind enough for love
I'm not worthy enough for love
I'm not ready for love
Lord please save me
I don't feel human
I don't have strength
I don't belong
I don't want to live
I'm nothing but depressed
A lost case
A piece of work
A damaged ex
Will I ever turn my life around?
And see the world differently?
Like it's meant to be
Like I have a destiny
Like anyone wants me
To be here
some                   I
     say                     call
           it's                   It        
                poetry.          oxygen.

I write, therefore I am.
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.
Veritia Venandi
Once upon an asphalt road, under a starry sky and in the midst of a desert...

I was walking towards infinity...

And then as if from another dimension,
A stranger appeared on a familiar bicycle
With a face veiled like the darkness of the night...
And began to accompany my wandering soul...

We talked of all things that the heavens would permit,
And in a way that our sounds would forever leave behind their stains in the fabric of time...

He was neither a friend nor a foe, neither a kin nor a lover...

He was just  like what a page is for a poet, or a guitar for a musician...

A vessel for the unknown that I was to experience...

Once down the asphalt road under a starry sky...

On my journey towards the infinity...

I was glad atleast my heart was

That I had a stranger for company!
This poem is about a dream I saw...few months ago. And it was pretty weird. How our mind craves for somebody to understand us that sometimes even strangers seem to be enough!
Anyways, Thank you for reading this! :)❤
Jeremy Stacy
The colors here wipe my mind clear
a purple atmosphere that makes a premier
in a time of year that I hold very dear  

My kayak I steered into a violet sphere
of hues vibrantly smeared
Instagram jst490_poetry
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
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.
I’ll fade to you,
In the Sierra Nevada blue

Your emerald eyes,
I will never recognize

Chasing the dawn,
Drawn the swan

Of our flourishing love,
Venus envies our dove

I want to drown in your heart,
I sincerely hope you’re smart

Interlock and chain,
Your pain in my geometric domain

I’ll solve it like my upcoming exam,
Acing it before you say “Aries and Uncle Sam”
Virgos love the best ;)
My poems are going mediocre again...sorry about the lack of inspiration.
P.S. Will look into this after med. school in 20 years...
*I took college geometry as an eighth grader; it was a breeze, honestly.
**My first (and probably last) horrible attempt to write a love poem to nobody in particular.
***I consider love to be honorable; no one deserves to have their heart broken by someone selfish.
The last note is especially dedicated to @sadnspicy0 and @Owen.
growing with up with someone’s reflection is a battle- a wounded stain, your groomed to their memories. your gaze is burried , dead to the forseen. your wonder in her praise , while your shadow flee.. invisibility is invited.
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.
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)
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t


So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

I want to gather the twigs
of your blown down shelter,
cradle your wasted heart
in the dim cedar light
this shared lonely flame,
between the two of us,
we can keep it breathing
and ourselves

I want to smooth your dark brow
press my warmth into you
if we huddle together
our storms may blow over us
sweet spectacular man,
even in sorrow you shine brighter than any
you’re worth sharing
this little light
I have left
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