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Ace Aug 2022
I'm an introvert but I'm never alone.
I have myself and I have my poems.
Ace Jan 2021
I am an invention, invented by the greatest inventor(God).Wait till he is done launching me to the world,then the universe will know that I'm a brand
Ace Apr 2021
Hello there.
If you ever need a companion.
Call me.

Hello there.
Whenever you're bored.
I'm here to cheer me up.

Hello there.
I'm poetry.
Your best friend
Ace Apr 2021
If you ever miss me.
Come find me here.
Don't search too far.
I'm here.
I'm not lost.
I'm always here, in my poetry.
Ace Apr 2021
It's night time again.
I'm waiting for your lies.
It's a pity I'm addicted to it.

The weather is cool.
The perfect weather you usually tell your lies.
Alone in the isolated place you called our garden.

You're full of lies.
Lies on lies, lies under lies
Lies before lies, lies under lies.
Ace May 2021
If you think that's what it is, then it is, isn't it?
Ace Aug 2022
If truly wishes do come true,
I would like to make one.
If only wishes can manifest,
I would like to take a try.

I wish I'm a bird
Flying above the ground.
Spreading my wings around without restrictions.
I wish for freedom.

I'm at war with myself,
But who shall I tell?
The echoes in my head are getting louder.
I wish for peace.

I'm as lonely as a forbidden tree.
Nobody to tell tales under me.
Just me and my shadow day and night.
I wish for a good company.
Ace Aug 2022
I'm afraid of dawn.
I wish the night will last longer than usual.
The darkness is the best part of me.
Ace Jan 2021
Locked up in the prison of agony.

Sentenced to life in misery.

Arrested for disobeying the law of pain.

Even though I was taken to the court of distress.

I was not found guilty or looking miserable.

I was clad in the uniform of depression.

Whereas I know nothing about the ****** of my joy.

I ate nothing but the fruit of panic.

As I wandered in the cell of wretchedness.

I was chained with the cuff of sufferness.

My blood was dripping with great violence.

I cried doom even when I'm not being whipped.
Ace Apr 2021
To war I'm gone.
With my pen, paper, ink and words.
Marching forward and ready to strike.

With my sword called pen will I stab them to the core.
With my shield called paper will all criticisms be blocked.
With words shall I ****** them to dipperesion.

The ink will bath me ******.
They should have thought before waging war on a fierce poet like me.
Poets are warriors, so bow when you come across one.

— The End —