folie - Hello Poetry

Gold can hold its weight but you can’t hold your own Fools coin in your purse, I think I, found who cast the first stone Ten years older and you still don’t live on your own Bottomless cup but you never filled it Take your emotions and, bottle up I hope you, “bottoms up” till you lose feeling Cheap whisky made you warm up Bet I got you thinkin as if it matters anymore, boy you’re sweatin’ Spilt your cup, I got you pouring Most the time this sites annoying, buncha pent emotion placed aside like a toy, that barrel of feelings is pulsing The slump ain’t the issue, just don’t stay it, correct your posture and keep pushing off the pavement, It’s time I dip, my toll is your time and thank you for the payment

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Sep 4, 2020

Sep 4, 2020 at 1:33 AM UTC

GoodbyePoetry

Gold can hold its weight but you can’t hold your own Fools coin in your purse, I think I, found who cast the first stone Ten years older and you still don’t live on your own Bottomless cup but you never filled it Take your emotions and, bottle up I hope you, “bottoms up” till you lose feeling Cheap whisky made you warm up Bet I got you thinkin as if it matters anymore, boy you’re sweatin’ Spilt your cup, I got you pouring Most the time this sites annoying, buncha pent emotion placed aside like a toy, that barrel of feelings is pulsing The slump ain’t the issue, just don’t stay it, correct your posture and keep pushing off the pavement, It’s time I dip, my toll is your time and thank you for the payment

11

The poet stood their, defeated, harrowed by how he was wrong, dead yet still hung on the last sound , not able to let all his limbs slip into the void, but you see the poet needs to let go, the poet needs to understand that all mistakes will be known as something of the past but will be forgotten far before rhythm Who’s to say, that no matter how reality checks out, we’ll be thinking something different, could you think it? Or is it rather holding a gift you don’t want, who’s to say the tangents are beauty if that’s tangible by the eye of the observer you see that must be beautiful, the poet struggles to imagine the idea of starting off the wrong foot The poet stood their, thinking, how much muddier is it gonna get before I can have an opinion, how many times are you going to tell me why he killed him, but the poet doesn’t care for cause or reason, the poet sees that body, and lays a flower on it. We seem to hate each other yet we all run from death, and the killer cried, who’s the one with the bloodied knife, I’ll **** you! , and the victim will scream ****** but the killer gets away, just for new white gloves to comes to get stained and the observer stood there, crying... You see the poet thinks, it’s bad to wrap yourself in lines you pretend can’t break, cause when you shed them, what’s left? The poet stood their, spitting, what if I’ve already told you this one, as he sat their thinking of what to spit.

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Jun 6, 2020

Jun 6, 2020 at 5:06 AM UTC

Tendrils Of Chaos Pull You In

The poet stood their, defeated, harrowed by how he was wrong, dead yet still hung on the last sound , not able to let all his limbs slip into the void, but you see the poet needs to let go, the poet needs to understand that all mistakes will be known as something of the past but will be forgotten far before rhythm Who’s to say, that no matter how reality checks out, we’ll be thinking something different, could you think it? Or is it rather holding a gift you don’t want, who’s to say the tangents are beauty if that’s tangible by the eye of the observer you see that must be beautiful, the poet struggles to imagine the idea of starting off the wrong foot The poet stood their, thinking, how much muddier is it gonna get before I can have an opinion, how many times are you going to tell me why he killed him, but the poet doesn’t care for cause or reason, the poet sees that body, and lays a flower on it. We seem to hate each other yet we all run from death, and the killer cried, who’s the one with the bloodied knife, I’ll **** you! , and the victim will scream ****** but the killer gets away, just for new white gloves to comes to get stained and the observer stood there, crying... You see the poet thinks, it’s bad to wrap yourself in lines you pretend can’t break, cause when you shed them, what’s left? The poet stood their, spitting, what if I’ve already told you this one, as he sat their thinking of what to spit.

7

Skin peeling off Apple core rotted in a crack den Needles for stems and the seeds are much better off One’s barely on the tree and the other already fell off Bitter taste left on the grass but there’s still time to grow Winter just ended and everyone’s waiting to be blown away

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May 23, 2020

May 23, 2020 at 11:30 AM UTC

Impatient

Skin peeling off Apple core rotted in a crack den Needles for stems and the seeds are much better off One’s barely on the tree and the other already fell off Bitter taste left on the grass but there’s still time to grow Winter just ended and everyone’s waiting to be blown away

6

Perfection is a beautiful thing Something we’ve always been fascinated by But there is a subjective to every true perfection To many, it’s a god, the true perfection, the one we’ve sacrificed love and life for To some, a way of living, believing that we as humans, we can reach true perfection But is there even a true perfection?

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May 5, 2020

May 5, 2020 at 9:38 PM UTC

Softer

Perfection is a beautiful thing Something we’ve always been fascinated by But there is a subjective to every true perfection To many, it’s a god, the true perfection, the one we’ve sacrificed love and life for To some, a way of living, believing that we as humans, we can reach true perfection But is there even a true perfection?

6

Simplicity’s a mistress I won’t sleep with A fine line between quality and quantity can often be read in the lines of what a poet says Though most people can’t get past two lines or achieve either So call me jealous, I’ll call you shallow

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Mar 11, 2020

Mar 11, 2020 at 5:26 AM UTC

Having Little To Say Gives Little Meaning

Simplicity’s a mistress I won’t sleep with A fine line between quality and quantity can often be read in the lines of what a poet says Though most people can’t get past two lines or achieve either So call me jealous, I’ll call you shallow

4

I’ll wear my heart on my sleeves so when I sleep I can feel the weight of my soul but I don’t hear a beat I hear a scream, it says Let me spread my wings, set me free Don’t hold me down, just let me seek My brightest thoughts, my darkest hours I didn’t live if I died a coward, but I’m buried alive My flame will burn through my coffin and only get brighter Till Im tired of this rock and go among the other lights I’m a star you should look up at

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Mar 10, 2020

Mar 10, 2020 at 12:04 PM UTC

Dead Optimist

I’ll wear my heart on my sleeves so when I sleep I can feel the weight of my soul but I don’t hear a beat I hear a scream, it says Let me spread my wings, set me free Don’t hold me down, just let me seek My brightest thoughts, my darkest hours I didn’t live if I died a coward, but I’m buried alive My flame will burn through my coffin and only get brighter Till Im tired of this rock and go among the other lights I’m a star you should look up at

9

Drunk and stumbling to my room again I think somethings broken but I can’t feel what’s sinking in My head’s killing me, I feel heat against my skin But before know it , Im falling over myself Didn’t even notice I was looking ceiling Heeling it to the dresser Pick it up and put it against the side of my head That’s it, I’ve had it, I admit, I’m an addict Can’t even make it through one shot without thinking about my bad habits Dial up 911, take the safety off and squeeze th-

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Feb 14, 2020

Feb 14, 2020 at 3:10 AM UTC

Cold Shower

Drunk and stumbling to my room again I think somethings broken but I can’t feel what’s sinking in My head’s killing me, I feel heat against my skin But before know it , Im falling over myself Didn’t even notice I was looking ceiling Heeling it to the dresser Pick it up and put it against the side of my head That’s it, I’ve had it, I admit, I’m an addict Can’t even make it through one shot without thinking about my bad habits Dial up 911, take the safety off and squeeze th-

10

A pure soul bares used fangs with blood dripping down their lips while they carry a soft smile knowing know one saw what they did To that husk devoid of a soul with two holes left in their heart knows pain yet that wasn’t what left them for dead That was left to knowing they didn’t die after the tragedy and that the rest only hold fury toward them just because the husk won’t pretend to have a heart left in their chest.

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Nov 24, 2019

Nov 24, 2019 at 4:03 AM UTC

Look For Cracks In Their Mask

A pure soul bares used fangs with blood dripping down their lips while they carry a soft smile knowing know one saw what they did To that husk devoid of a soul with two holes left in their heart knows pain yet that wasn’t what left them for dead That was left to knowing they didn’t die after the tragedy and that the rest only hold fury toward them just because the husk won’t pretend to have a heart left in their chest.

3

Black silk veils the kings Under prestige and pride they walk across the broken lands of their people Coated with bloodstained gold for crowns And a soft echo wakes in every step they take, never truly waking the villagers nearby As they walk past their burning kingdoms they hold their heads above all others For that is the life of a king.

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Aug 19, 2019

Aug 19, 2019 at 5:20 AM UTC

Of Noble Blood

Black silk veils the kings Under prestige and pride they walk across the broken lands of their people Coated with bloodstained gold for crowns And a soft echo wakes in every step they take, never truly waking the villagers nearby As they walk past their burning kingdoms they hold their heads above all others For that is the life of a king.

6

Blood seeps through the sheets What a lovely night I’ll sink through the thoughts and guide my soul to you I’ve fallen for your trap, I’m a fool Cast my life beyond your thoughts Such a cold embrace for such a warm heart I welcome myself to your bed at knell.

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May 23, 2019

May 23, 2019 at 2:38 AM UTC

Aphrodite's Blood

Blood seeps through the sheets What a lovely night I’ll sink through the thoughts and guide my soul to you I’ve fallen for your trap, I’m a fool Cast my life beyond your thoughts Such a cold embrace for such a warm heart I welcome myself to your bed at knell.

7