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Prostitato
21/M/Iowa A little lost in my ways, attempting to achieve what so many seek. / / I won't pretend to know about poetry, to my knowledge it can be anything.
I'm sick of sitting here and typing out these words Of depression and abstract thoughts But it's what I feel I must do when things aren't all sunshine and polka dots I need to get out, I need to live, I need to see the world I know these things and yet I sit here in a ball curled I want to better myself and you should too I don't know where to start but I'll find it somewhere new
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Sep 15, 2021
Sep 15, 2021 at 11:55 PM UTC
Poems
I'm just going to write what's on my mind, But I'll still make it rhyme, while still being blunt. Why am I too good for where I am, but not enough for what I want. And already I sound narcissistic, but I'm just making it simplistic. My life's decent, there are no real struggles, so I don't want to complain. It's just that I was always told I was meant for more, and for that I am filled with shame. Yet, I'm still young and could still go far, but it's a longshot to hit the stars. Especially when you're low on fuel, And especially when you feel like a tool. Especially when you're all alone I like to call it a depression cone Where it starts out as something really small But it begins to snowball Into something way out of proportion And your mind takes your happiness through extortion And those have always been my two big problems Where am I going, and where have I been?
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Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
Thoughts?
Imagine a wall, Big and sturdy, Protecting everyone. But over time The wind howling, The rain dropping, The snow falling, The wall Begins to crumble. Normally this isn't an issue. Just patch the wall, Rebuild it a bit, Make it stronger. But during the time The people forgot Why this wall was needed So they forgot about the wall too. And they continue to let it crumble. And while the wall still stands, It stands strong. But when it falls, They'll all have wished they helped it.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
A Wall
I'm lost in life, does anyone know? Where in the world, that I should go? This jobs' great, but I'm broke as hell. This job ***** but it pays real well. This place is nice, it's all I've known Perfect when I was little, but now I'm grown But better things are calling do I pick up the phone? Why stay in hiding, while I could be renowned? I'm tired of being broke, I want to be more. But I need a runway, to be able to soar. I'm tired of these fields, I want to see more. The world is out there, waiting to be explored! I'm going to leave this place! I'm going to leave this place. I'm going to leave this place? I'm going to leave this place...
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 1:03 AM UTC
Life
I leave my room and head outside To begin my journey Down the old gravel road An endless expansion of corn The coyotes distant howls The brisk air, I walk at a brisker pace Past the old-fashioned church With its white picket graveyard Beautiful in daylight, eerie at night Through the woods Over some hills Across a stream The bright reflection of the moon signifies my destination It's beauty portrayed across the canvas that is the pond I visit at night, because only then can my thoughts be as clear as the water. I sit in silence for a moment Pondering what I came for Before I turn around and head back Down the old gravel road
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
The old gravel road
In the end, we all have flaws In the end, we all make mistakes In the end, we all have bad days In the end, we all do what it takes Because In the end, we're all people
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 9:00 PM UTC
In The End
I write at night To share my plight On some website Hoping others will give me some insight and tell me that I'm alright. To my loved ones, I'm sorry I hide this side of me, but you wouldn't understand what's inside of me. The echoes they bellow and tell me to follow the hollowness, the solemness. I indite these words in confidence. Behind this screen cause the outside doesn't need to see my conscience. I'm a mess in my cranium, better off inside an insane asylum. Cell so small theres no room to walk The days going by with each mark after mark from a spare piece of chalk In more ways than one, I'm in the dark.
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Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
In The Dark
I am a chemist Mixing chemicals slowly and carefully Drip, drop Each mov ement precise as to not invoke a negative reaction Drip, dr op  As I go to add the next ingredient into my  concoctio n I fi nd tha t i  t isn't where it shoul   d be D r ip, dro   p I race to find it, it has to be somewhere, thisiscrucialtotheformula But it cannot be found, for it isn't in this room. W    ith   o   ut this piec e of t h  e puz z  le My creation is flawed, as it becomes onyx in color, signifying my failure.  And yet it persists Drip, drop
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Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 1:22 PM UTC
Chemistry