DeadPoet - Hello Poetry

Abattlefield of ssecrets and spies U still alive out there? Somewhere in the world. Devoid of meaning In meaningless existence. That we atribute value to, Just to have a motive To keep going on. Despite all the pain And the suffering endured. But why do I even bother askind? I already know you'r response. "I'm good, what about you?" Oh only if we wouldn't hide ourselves Our pain, our worries, our feelings. "I'm also good" But what am I even talking about? It's the blind leading the blind. A dance of words and feelings, Every convo's a battlefield In society's domain. A battlefield of secrets and spies, Of words and gestures, Of logic and feelings. If only we could trust each other, With our truest selves, But society taught us otherwise To not be a burden upon someone else.

0

Jan 31

Jan 31, 2026 at 4:50 PM UTC

DeadPoet

A battlefield of ssecrets and spies

Abattlefield of ssecrets and spies U still alive out there? Somewhere in the world. Devoid of meaning In meaningless existence. That we atribute value to, Just to have a motive To keep going on. Despite all the pain And the suffering endured. But why do I even bother askind? I already know you'r response. "I'm good, what about you?" Oh only if we wouldn't hide ourselves Our pain, our worries, our feelings. "I'm also good" But what am I even talking about? It's the blind leading the blind. A dance of words and feelings, Every convo's a battlefield In society's domain. A battlefield of secrets and spies, Of words and gestures, Of logic and feelings. If only we could trust each other, With our truest selves, But society taught us otherwise To not be a burden upon someone else.

28

I want a heart, Unbroken by the world, A heart capable of crying, Of feeling emotions. I have been pretending, Fooling myself, Into believing that I have emotions. I do not care If I'll never grow up, As long as I still have my empathy, I'll be complete. I'll be complete… An empty husk I've been for so long, I forgot what true love feels like. Just a jester to the public, A pawn in life's game, A powerless, hollowed husk, Unchanged, yet still moving. Just like a tree Rooted into the ground, Yet its leaves still move along To the wind named time. A tree that is rotting And has been rotting For the longest time, Slower than a snail. Hoping and waiting, Daily and nightly, That its end will come Sooner than ever. Praying and believing That someone will come, Someone with a heart To share their emotions. Not just their actions. Not just their thoughts. But their true, heartfelt emotions. So that it might also Feel along with them, Empathize with them, Care for them. But I know that's too selfish, Too much to ask, Too much effort out of somebody else. That's why my wish is to be a diamond. To have an impact On someone's life Is something so precious And yet so fragile, Just like a diamond. And yet diamonds are common, More common than you'd think, And often get overlooked In today's society For just their beauty. But not all diamonds are beautiful. All of them were ugly, Covered in mud, Until someone saw their potential. But I have none… I can just observe As everyone else Is shining but me, With futures ahead. As I remain still, Unchanged at the core By the wind named time, With no direction or hope, While everybody else Is moving right past, Changing and molding Into who they desire, Leaving me alone To rot and die, A soul with no future, No talent, no value.

0

Dec 5, 2025

Dec 5, 2025 at 3:00 AM UTC

DeadPoet

Trough the eyes of a tree

I want a heart, Unbroken by the world, A heart capable of crying, Of feeling emotions. I have been pretending, Fooling myself, Into believing that I have emotions. I do not care If I'll never grow up, As long as I still have my empathy, I'll be complete. I'll be complete… An empty husk I've been for so long, I forgot what true love feels like. Just a jester to the public, A pawn in life's game, A powerless, hollowed husk, Unchanged, yet still moving. Just like a tree Rooted into the ground, Yet its leaves still move along To the wind named time. A tree that is rotting And has been rotting For the longest time, Slower than a snail. Hoping and waiting, Daily and nightly, That its end will come Sooner than ever. Praying and believing That someone will come, Someone with a heart To share their emotions. Not just their actions. Not just their thoughts. But their true, heartfelt emotions. So that it might also Feel along with them, Empathize with them, Care for them. But I know that's too selfish, Too much to ask, Too much effort out of somebody else. That's why my wish is to be a diamond. To have an impact On someone's life Is something so precious And yet so fragile, Just like a diamond. And yet diamonds are common, More common than you'd think, And often get overlooked In today's society For just their beauty. But not all diamonds are beautiful. All of them were ugly, Covered in mud, Until someone saw their potential. But I have none… I can just observe As everyone else Is shining but me, With futures ahead. As I remain still, Unchanged at the core By the wind named time, With no direction or hope, While everybody else Is moving right past, Changing and molding Into who they desire, Leaving me alone To rot and die, A soul with no future, No talent, no value.

77

Oh dear diary, When will this end? This planet’s fiery, Its beauty pretend. Oh dear diary, How will this end? What of the priory? What of the low-end? I wish for a happy ending, Even though it is too late. Even though my wish's unending, I still hold faith. And even though this is hell, I still dream of better. We simply must dwell, And wait for the next letter. Oh dear Gaia, Why did you want us? We’re not your messiah, We’re not your truss. We are your cancer, Meant to be cured. We’re not the answer— Why are you reassured? Oh dear brothers, Oh dear sisters, Let’s seize the matters The power is with the masses. Let’s throw our worries away, Where they will be forgotten. And keep our worst selves at bay, Or maybe we’re too rotten.

0

Dec 5, 2025

Dec 5, 2025 at 2:58 AM UTC

DeadPoet

Dear Diary

Oh dear diary, When will this end? This planet’s fiery, Its beauty pretend. Oh dear diary, How will this end? What of the priory? What of the low-end? I wish for a happy ending, Even though it is too late. Even though my wish's unending, I still hold faith. And even though this is hell, I still dream of better. We simply must dwell, And wait for the next letter. Oh dear Gaia, Why did you want us? We’re not your messiah, We’re not your truss. We are your cancer, Meant to be cured. We’re not the answer— Why are you reassured? Oh dear brothers, Oh dear sisters, Let’s seize the matters The power is with the masses. Let’s throw our worries away, Where they will be forgotten. And keep our worst selves at bay, Or maybe we’re too rotten.

32

What is death? Is death good? Is death bad? Is it neutral? For yes, It is sad, When a loved one dies. But so will you. Would you prefer, maybe, To live forever and ever? And watch, As slowly, Your loved ones die? And experience the pain Of heartbreak over and over Till the sun blows up And everything but you will die. You’ll drift into space For God knows how long Till the heath death of the universe And then forever more. Would it be better, maybe, If you were never born at all? After all, no one asked To be brought into this world. And yet here you are, Here we are. The chance of us being here Is one of the slimmest of all. But does this really mean That we should be grateful For being forced into a world Grimmer than the Grim reaper? Perhaps I will never know The answers that I seek In a life grayer than grey In a world blacker than black.

0

Dec 5, 2025

Dec 5, 2025 at 2:57 AM UTC

DeadPoet

Death

What is death? Is death good? Is death bad? Is it neutral? For yes, It is sad, When a loved one dies. But so will you. Would you prefer, maybe, To live forever and ever? And watch, As slowly, Your loved ones die? And experience the pain Of heartbreak over and over Till the sun blows up And everything but you will die. You’ll drift into space For God knows how long Till the heath death of the universe And then forever more. Would it be better, maybe, If you were never born at all? After all, no one asked To be brought into this world. And yet here you are, Here we are. The chance of us being here Is one of the slimmest of all. But does this really mean That we should be grateful For being forced into a world Grimmer than the Grim reaper? Perhaps I will never know The answers that I seek In a life grayer than grey In a world blacker than black.

37