ChameleonInk - Hello Poetry

I was once lost in the ocean of uncertainty, Filled with fears of abandonment— Of visions without clarity; On distorted dreams I once swam in great delight, Until I saw what true joy is, painted in crimson and lovely white. These colors lit up my corner, Put me back in the proper track, But as I go though near the ends I was once again, lost in the dark. I wander on it endlessly, among the crazy twists and turns But still, can’t go back straight ahead, For my mind can’t handle it anymore. I might seem to be fine on every aspect you’ll look, but have you tried reading the pages? No—you just saw the cover of the book; That’s why mysteries remain unsolved, unseen— For no one will truly dare to read these tainted lines and the meanings in between.

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Feb 24, 2025

Feb 24, 2025 at 3:36 AM UTC

Lost wanderer

I was once lost in the ocean of uncertainty, Filled with fears of abandonment— Of visions without clarity; On distorted dreams I once swam in great delight, Until I saw what true joy is, painted in crimson and lovely white. These colors lit up my corner, Put me back in the proper track, But as I go though near the ends I was once again, lost in the dark. I wander on it endlessly, among the crazy twists and turns But still, can’t go back straight ahead, For my mind can’t handle it anymore. I might seem to be fine on every aspect you’ll look, but have you tried reading the pages? No—you just saw the cover of the book; That’s why mysteries remain unsolved, unseen— For no one will truly dare to read these tainted lines and the meanings in between.

22

Thy glorious life I now possess, is just nothing but a sort of mess— and all those things I dreamed before, are now nightmares sliding ashore. It is human's nature, to adapt and change but we weren't informed it would be out of our range— for childhood is a fancy thing we've all enjoyed, while adult things are far down this deceptive void. How come we make children believe in fairytales and not let them know about these nightmares and blues? Life is not just about joyous songs of nightingales— please give them facts and useful clues! We are all nothing but earthlings trying to thrive, and we are all nothing but people trying to survive— We are all just lost adults on a lonely sea, trying to make things work and make ourselves free; on these unannounced and uninvited guests of adulthood, which decides if we'll be great or just up to no good— but nonetheless, it's still marvelous to be here; we never know the next and what's beyond there.

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Feb 22, 2025

Feb 22, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC

An Adult's Nightmare

Thy glorious life I now possess, is just nothing but a sort of mess— and all those things I dreamed before, are now nightmares sliding ashore. It is human's nature, to adapt and change but we weren't informed it would be out of our range— for childhood is a fancy thing we've all enjoyed, while adult things are far down this deceptive void. How come we make children believe in fairytales and not let them know about these nightmares and blues? Life is not just about joyous songs of nightingales— please give them facts and useful clues! We are all nothing but earthlings trying to thrive, and we are all nothing but people trying to survive— We are all just lost adults on a lonely sea, trying to make things work and make ourselves free; on these unannounced and uninvited guests of adulthood, which decides if we'll be great or just up to no good— but nonetheless, it's still marvelous to be here; we never know the next and what's beyond there.

19

A breeze of cold air penetrate my core, As I long for your warm tight hugs, But then it's just me and my homies, Talking deeply with our coffee mugs. I wonder how would it feel to be by your side and watch these glimmer of city light's horizon, As our hearts discuss through synch heartbeats— Listening to their silent screams of affection. But then a cold breeze snap me out of the daydream— bringing me back to our present state, It's still a long run for both of us, Imaginations are just the best things I could create.

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Feb 22, 2025

Feb 22, 2025 at 10:00 AM UTC

City Lights

A breeze of cold air penetrate my core, As I long for your warm tight hugs, But then it's just me and my homies, Talking deeply with our coffee mugs. I wonder how would it feel to be by your side and watch these glimmer of city light's horizon, As our hearts discuss through synch heartbeats— Listening to their silent screams of affection. But then a cold breeze snap me out of the daydream— bringing me back to our present state, It's still a long run for both of us, Imaginations are just the best things I could create.

13

You never liked reading, But still, I write things for you, How I wish we could talk for hours and share something we'd love to do. But it's quite hard to get a good topic— We're total opposites for real, So here I am looking for answers Did fate let us cross just for thrill? But despite differences we have, I'd love to sit still and do nothing with you— Silence and your presence makes my days complete too.

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Feb 22, 2025

Feb 22, 2025 at 9:56 AM UTC

...

You never liked reading, But still, I write things for you, How I wish we could talk for hours and share something we'd love to do. But it's quite hard to get a good topic— We're total opposites for real, So here I am looking for answers Did fate let us cross just for thrill? But despite differences we have, I'd love to sit still and do nothing with you— Silence and your presence makes my days complete too.

11

Her name is a stain on my t-shirt even the strongest bleach can't get rid of, She's rooted deeply on the stitches— Even chlorine won't be enough. I know her color won't fade away— you just don't want to wipe her out your path, She's the ruins you've been protecting, a spot of beauty and history's mark. An here I am, a tourist interested in her story but is neglected to have knowledge of her love, Fears are now crawling up my system— What if I'm the stain needed to get ridden of?

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Feb 22, 2025

Feb 22, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC

When bleaches doesn't work that way

Her name is a stain on my t-shirt even the strongest bleach can't get rid of, She's rooted deeply on the stitches— Even chlorine won't be enough. I know her color won't fade away— you just don't want to wipe her out your path, She's the ruins you've been protecting, a spot of beauty and history's mark. An here I am, a tourist interested in her story but is neglected to have knowledge of her love, Fears are now crawling up my system— What if I'm the stain needed to get ridden of?

12

I woke up to a sight of dreadful memories, Lingering around with joyful tones, chasing my peace for some chaos— Inflicting back the pain to the bones. It was a "never thought of" situation, as healing seems to be good enough, But in the midst of some realizations— "I might be still just blurting out bluffs" I still woke up to a sight of horrid regrets, concealed in muted yellow paint, And I thought a hint of crimson blush would hide it all— But it still peek through with glorious taint. I'm after the rumbling butterflies in my stomach, Trying to hide away the troublesome pain, And now I admit am a great liar— Pretending to be really good, again.

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Feb 22, 2025

Feb 22, 2025 at 9:54 AM UTC

A Taste of Hazelnut

I woke up to a sight of dreadful memories, Lingering around with joyful tones, chasing my peace for some chaos— Inflicting back the pain to the bones. It was a "never thought of" situation, as healing seems to be good enough, But in the midst of some realizations— "I might be still just blurting out bluffs" I still woke up to a sight of horrid regrets, concealed in muted yellow paint, And I thought a hint of crimson blush would hide it all— But it still peek through with glorious taint. I'm after the rumbling butterflies in my stomach, Trying to hide away the troublesome pain, And now I admit am a great liar— Pretending to be really good, again.

17

As the coffee starts to take charge of my system, My thoughts started to run as well. I can't keep them off track for a minute— They started screaming these unbearable hymns. A bowl of what-ifs served as my snack for the midnight, Swimming in liquid of yellow traumas and pain, I can't even bear to look at them with my eyes naked, But hunger forced me to eat those filthy dreadful grains. Then, they start to sing horrible notes inside me— Ruining my butterflies' soft ang lovely song; Destroying the peace and order of these creatures— inside are harmonies no one can even get along.

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Feb 22, 2025

Feb 22, 2025 at 9:52 AM UTC

Coffee Crumble

As the coffee starts to take charge of my system, My thoughts started to run as well. I can't keep them off track for a minute— They started screaming these unbearable hymns. A bowl of what-ifs served as my snack for the midnight, Swimming in liquid of yellow traumas and pain, I can't even bear to look at them with my eyes naked, But hunger forced me to eat those filthy dreadful grains. Then, they start to sing horrible notes inside me— Ruining my butterflies' soft ang lovely song; Destroying the peace and order of these creatures— inside are harmonies no one can even get along.

12

Let's meet at McDonald's and eat your favorite food, I know you've been craving hard for them— For it'll make you feel real good. Let's take a walk at intramuros; A place of your dream date, Let's spend our time wandering around it's historic walls and gate. I would love to get lost in Netherlands, If we'll be on those tulip fields— At least, for a moment in our lives, A part of heaven was revealed. But the best place we could ever be, And the best of those plans, Is to travel and worship God, on the different churches so grand; You promised to take me there if time would just permit, And that promise will forever be just a promise unfulfilled. Your words still lingers in my ear— I still hear your baritoned voice, Whispering another promise to fulfill; that in another life, we'll get our chance to rejoice. 04•15•21 10:27 PM —Crissy Morsel

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Apr 15, 2021

Apr 15, 2021 at 10:44 AM UTC

PROMISE UNFULFILLED

Let's meet at McDonald's and eat your favorite food, I know you've been craving hard for them— For it'll make you feel real good. Let's take a walk at intramuros; A place of your dream date, Let's spend our time wandering around it's historic walls and gate. I would love to get lost in Netherlands, If we'll be on those tulip fields— At least, for a moment in our lives, A part of heaven was revealed. But the best place we could ever be, And the best of those plans, Is to travel and worship God, on the different churches so grand; You promised to take me there if time would just permit, And that promise will forever be just a promise unfulfilled. Your words still lingers in my ear— I still hear your baritoned voice, Whispering another promise to fulfill; that in another life, we'll get our chance to rejoice. 04•15•21 10:27 PM —Crissy Morsel

27

Write me as a poem— in verses of lovely rhymes, enveloped with fancy words, and metaphors divine. I would love to rip hearts apart and tell the story of a sacred connection— but after such great feelings of butterflies, these two, lost communication. Write me as a poem, And I’ll write you as one too, For in this world of chaos and hatred, We’ve crossed our paths and found the calm— the home where our love grew. You’re the loveliest sunset I’ve watched— My bittersweet goodbye, Taking a piece of my mended heart, To a place cannot be seen by my eye. Write me as a poem— I want to be a timeless art, And I'll write you as a song Forever stuck in my recovering heart. 04•15•21 7:36 PM — Crissy Morsel

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Apr 15, 2021

Apr 15, 2021 at 10:42 AM UTC

TIMELESS ART

Write me as a poem— in verses of lovely rhymes, enveloped with fancy words, and metaphors divine. I would love to rip hearts apart and tell the story of a sacred connection— but after such great feelings of butterflies, these two, lost communication. Write me as a poem, And I’ll write you as one too, For in this world of chaos and hatred, We’ve crossed our paths and found the calm— the home where our love grew. You’re the loveliest sunset I’ve watched— My bittersweet goodbye, Taking a piece of my mended heart, To a place cannot be seen by my eye. Write me as a poem— I want to be a timeless art, And I'll write you as a song Forever stuck in my recovering heart. 04•15•21 7:36 PM — Crissy Morsel

24

With trembling knees and soft-pleading voice, She spoke to every child she dearly loves, But no one did listen nor tried to hear Those agonies she unfortunately had. And for decades that passed, She never did really feel so well; And through the years that follow, She lived her existence on the fire of hell. But no one cared, to her dismay— they even abused her kindness, that’s why when her temper’s got so full, she let them suffer in the darkness. But we’re all naïve and dumb enough, Don’t even care about her situation, Wanna know who she is? Our very own mother nature— We need to stop what we’re doing, And try to listen to her voice, Every modernized thing we have now, Contributes to her suffering and slow obliteration! We need to hear her soft-toned voice, Pleading for some help, Maybe in the near future, She’ll taste once again, the taste of heaven’s state.

0

Mar 2, 2021

Mar 2, 2021 at 12:35 AM UTC

PLEAD

With trembling knees and soft-pleading voice, She spoke to every child she dearly loves, But no one did listen nor tried to hear Those agonies she unfortunately had. And for decades that passed, She never did really feel so well; And through the years that follow, She lived her existence on the fire of hell. But no one cared, to her dismay— they even abused her kindness, that’s why when her temper’s got so full, she let them suffer in the darkness. But we’re all naïve and dumb enough, Don’t even care about her situation, Wanna know who she is? Our very own mother nature— We need to stop what we’re doing, And try to listen to her voice, Every modernized thing we have now, Contributes to her suffering and slow obliteration! We need to hear her soft-toned voice, Pleading for some help, Maybe in the near future, She’ll taste once again, the taste of heaven’s state.

25