shrnrose - Hello Poetry

he was the sun she was the moon he didn't know that all she wanted was to shine alone. – s.r.

0

Jan 2, 2019

Jan 2, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC

her own moon

he was the sun she was the moon he didn't know that all she wanted was to shine alone. – s.r.

6

my feet are tired of walking, yet i've only been in circle. - s.r.

0

Oct 31, 2018

Oct 31, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC

stomp, stomp.

my feet are tired of walking, yet i've only been in circle. - s.r.

3

they don't know that she is classical; she is the kind people admire but seems to be impossible to be figured out by anyone, but when they do, oh how they can hear the most beautiful lullaby coming out of her. — s.r.

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Oct 29, 2018

Oct 29, 2018 at 11:57 AM UTC

she is classical;

they don't know that she is classical; she is the kind people admire but seems to be impossible to be figured out by anyone, but when they do, oh how they can hear the most beautiful lullaby coming out of her. — s.r.

10

we are humans afterall. we starve for justice and joy. for acceptance and comfort. for validation and calmness. for easiness and simplicity. for suitance and serendipity. but we found each other, against all of that. -s. r.

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Oct 16, 2017

Oct 16, 2017 at 2:22 AM UTC

humans.

we are humans afterall. we starve for justice and joy. for acceptance and comfort. for validation and calmness. for easiness and simplicity. for suitance and serendipity. but we found each other, against all of that. -s. r.

9

patroclus. remember me? listen. i no longer have all the things i am proud of anymore. the golds i have are gone when i refused finishing a war. the empire i brag about are gone when i stopped fighting the trusts people gave me are gone when i didn't **** a man. i am no one. i have nothing left now. but why all that doesn't a lot matter to me? i lost everything, but i was not lost. i was lost when you laid in my arm for the last time. i promised i would protect you. but i didn't. i let him aimed you. the stain of your blood never disappeared. the last scent of your body haunted me. the tone of your voice became an alarm to my ears. . i wasn't dead when an arrow hit my heel. because maybe, my real weakness is you.

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Jul 29, 2017

Jul 29, 2017 at 10:40 AM UTC

patroclus. patroclus.

patroclus. remember me? listen. i no longer have all the things i am proud of anymore. the golds i have are gone when i refused finishing a war. the empire i brag about are gone when i stopped fighting the trusts people gave me are gone when i didn't **** a man. i am no one. i have nothing left now. but why all that doesn't a lot matter to me? i lost everything, but i was not lost. i was lost when you laid in my arm for the last time. i promised i would protect you. but i didn't. i let him aimed you. the stain of your blood never disappeared. the last scent of your body haunted me. the tone of your voice became an alarm to my ears. . i wasn't dead when an arrow hit my heel. because maybe, my real weakness is you.

33

here is a fact: everyone deserves to be happy here are the sad truths: i always care about other's happiness more than i care about mine, and their and my concept of happiness contradict.

0

May 30, 2017

May 30, 2017 at 9:29 AM UTC

happiness?

here is a fact: everyone deserves to be happy here are the sad truths: i always care about other's happiness more than i care about mine, and their and my concept of happiness contradict.

4

you tell me things. good things. but when you speak those words, does your throat even vibrate? -s. r.

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May 25, 2017

May 25, 2017 at 10:51 AM UTC

wordless

you tell me things. good things. but when you speak those words, does your throat even vibrate? -s. r.

5

today becomes yesterday, tomorrow becomes today, now becomes earlier, later becomes now, present becomes past, but isn't it sad that what we thought is our future, not always become our present? - s. r.

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May 24, 2017

May 24, 2017 at 3:47 AM UTC

what are we becoming?

today becomes yesterday, tomorrow becomes today, now becomes earlier, later becomes now, present becomes past, but isn't it sad that what we thought is our future, not always become our present? - s. r.

9