Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
azzanjuma
in this human plant *** i sit withering away bit by bit no sunlight here nor in far sight with such little to my delight hindered from growth filled with self-loathe to who do I call to bring forth rainfall? drop by drop I float atop this human plant *** encasing its crop I'm drowning amidst what feels to be a drought of meaningful moments of what I'm without the *** is now all that remains in telling a story of one's only gain in consuming more than is required in losing yourself to desire.
0
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 7:22 PM UTC
rainfall
why is it that when it comes from someone someone other than yourself that you acknowledge in it the efforts it ought to have taken for the torch of someone else to uncover what has sat patiently upon the horizon as a lighthouse, with you as its beacon?
0
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 7:20 PM UTC
COMING FROM YOU
for what seems to be a lifetime it has been in your eyes that I exist within, the place in which I disguise my absence of self, my adequate compromise to embody what I assumed would surely suffice in satisfying every one of your desires. after a while, I grew to realise that our case was one of sheer convenience, not at all a prize. so with these words our journey I canonise to remind you of your wrongs, but most importantly of my rights. Open your eyes.
0
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 7:18 PM UTC
EYES
it's always the case of "what do you want to be?" yet never the question of "who do you want to be?" my physical form my identity calculated and measured up to the value of my degree? now I understand you want what's best for me. your journey through life, your family tree is what defines your desires, your plans for me. any plea I make, any way to justify that this life is for me, and for me I'll aspire to build on this life you intended for three.
0
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 7:15 PM UTC
what do you want to be?
the journey commences, both here we begin. assured in our senses, content in our sins. suddenly you grow cold, our horizons freeze. this life we planned to mould, you neglect with ease. i escape this dream, everything turns bright. the roads feel calmer, we're lost in the night, 'til we gently approach a traffic light. the lights glare green, as you grow keen. the lights trigger amber, you erupt with anger. the lights turn red, our love turns dead.
0
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 7:07 PM UTC
traffic light
The anxieties of life, of self-worth, of good health, Do overwork the mind, to rather grave lengths. Set in overdrive, your fears, your failures, and your stress, Yet, too blind to realise, to pause, to confess, Your extensive efforts, to please, to cater to and satisfy the rest, 'Til, you sit down, grasp and digest life's one true test: "To set aside, your worries, archive them on a shelf, To set aside the time, to make it nice, for Yourself."
0
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
Make it nice for Yourself.
Coconut, coconut, coconut, Crack! Stained white on the inside, Brown on the out. Hit it on its head, Slash it apart. Nourish it with spices, Of a Southern past. Fuzzy to touch, Lined in coir. The remaining path In defining who we are. Droplets of the Ganges, Drowned in the Thames. A conflicted soul, In search of a cleanse. Coconut, coconut, coconut, Crack! That one's spoiled! So send him back.
0
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 8:02 PM UTC
Coconut, coconut, coconut, crack!