Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2015 LJ Chaplin
Blue Angel
I didn't see it
Maybe I didn't want to
Just friends I thouht
He was nice, he cared
But he is like the rest, which isn't fair
Telling me I was beautiful, all for something, the warning signs were there
I just didn't want to believe
until once, he persued and I rejected
he didn't like that
and know for 3 months I feel marked
what's a girl to do?
This goes out to the guy who I thought was different........I forgive but won't forget
 Mar 2015 LJ Chaplin
Blue Angel
I was afraid to let you in
I was afraid to let you love me
Because I didn't want more scares
I didn't want to be left in the dirt
I was tired of being hurt
And them you said it "trust me"
I'm Afraid, Im Afraid, Im Afraid
 Feb 2015 LJ Chaplin
amber
Waves
 Feb 2015 LJ Chaplin
amber
As he called out for help
He wasn't surprised to find
The waves crashing in
And out of his mind

He was aggressively shoved
And lost in the cold sand
But he didn't miss the opportunity
To take the winds hand

Swept off his feet
He glides back into the sea
His mind aches with sorrow
Disappointed of what he couldn't be

But tonight he would cry out
For anything stronger than himself
Just so he could be
Restored back to his normal health

The waves take him further
And he falls deeper into his head
Afraid and shocked to see
If this road will get him dead

He's had enough now
There was nothing left to find
He fell too deep into the waves
Crashing in and out of his mind
 Feb 2015 LJ Chaplin
Thomas EG
You think you're so cool...
Bad boy, detached.
Nobody knows you
like you know yourself.
Leather jacket, crooked grin.
Only few deserve it.
Pocket-watch, single hoop earring.
Vintage, vintage...
How did you get so great?
Perhaps you stole the lost souls
of fragile beauties.
Perhaps you aren't so great after all.
Perhaps...
Or maybe
you just got so sick of hating yourself,
that you decided
to hate everyone else instead.
Maybe...
Or it's possible
that you lost your own soul
in the eyes of a fragile beauty...
And it's possible
that you're too far gone
to be saved.
Literally just wrote this on the spot. I don't know.
 Feb 2015 LJ Chaplin
Thomas EG
Crash
 Feb 2015 LJ Chaplin
Thomas EG
Uncertainty fills the air
And suddenly I'm not so sure.
Nostalgia begins to decay
But why?
Heavy, heavier...
I inhale and sigh with, what, exasperation?
Creation?
These are all mere distractions
To prevent myself from colliding
With myself,
With how I feel.
Emotional trauma, Part I -
Coming soon to a childhood near you!
We laugh it off
But it does not leave us.
Nothing can leave us
As easily as you walked away
That night.
I will not forget what I saw.
Engraved in my brain
Causing me to crumble
Tumble, tumble...
**Crash.
There were two strangers who had both been hiding in a barn from the storm that was rushing over the town
They both sat, each on his side of the room, and were just staring at the empty walls in front of them
But when their eyes met, something magical happened,they just stared at each other for minutes and a light smile began to form on their faces
Now they realized how ignorant they were before, fate has put them together, so step by step they came closer and from the first touch they both knew that this was just right
And from that moment on, the storm didn't scare them anymore
As they had already found silence,peace and love in each other's arms
"I love you" she once said
But now they are just fading memories of you two laughing: in the couch or in the bed

"Forever" was another promise she could never keep
Now you can just sit down,remember and weep

"My love for you will never go away"
Too bad she decided not to stay

I think the point I'm trying to make is that you can write,sing or rhyme
But maybe,just maybe nothing lasts for all the time
 Jan 2015 LJ Chaplin
Jamie King
We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.
I've never been the one to follow structures when it comes to poetry but when I heard about the villanelle and how difficult it is to master I just got excited and inspired
 Jan 2015 LJ Chaplin
Jamie King
The spark of passion ignites the heart, until it is engulfed in a conflagration of notions, as curiosity triumphs over caution.

The seed of wisdom, planted in fields of knowledge, is cultivated and refined in kingdoms of intellect to innovate speeches of freedom.

Blisters in sweaty palms, rubbing against the pen, as it drifts between the paths of future and past, where hope is met and joy is felt.

Consumed by epiphanies, the heart-beat is felt by trembling hands, squeezing the pen for inspiration, to bewilder imaginations, giving birth to new perceptions.
You take your time and put your heart into your work. This is for true poets (creativity challange)
Next page