Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Lizzie Mar 2020
I'm just a nobody
in this world where I had friends.
I was loved by somebody,
but it was all inside my head.
  What is real,
and what's inside my brain?
  Doesn't matter
- it comes to all the same.
So I look out the window,
Searching the dark skies.    
  I see so many faces
that smile with blank eyes.
  Is it all inside my head?
Is it all inside my head?
  Why do they say I'm alive
when I know I'm dead?
Bleh
Lizzie Feb 2020
Life is catching up too fast.
I wanna hold, but it wont last.
I find myself choking on its dust,
Falling behind, turning to rust.

Today the tension built then broke.
While I was drinking, I laughed and choked.
My drink comes spurting out my nose,
Snot and tears and juice it flows;

Snot for the sake of humiliation,
Tears squeezed from my pure elation,
And apple juice because the fruit
Once was nice... until the boot.
Things are funniest when you're sleep-deprived.
Lizzie Feb 2020
Another day has begun,
Another day, no special day,
A day among months and years and millenia.
We wake, we eat,
And laughter echoes from hollow souls.
And so Man's nature:
That's the question we never quite answer.
Back and forth, him and her and them,
Rarely I.
We move slowly, but not forward.
Or maybe everyone moves forward but me.
It could be yesterday, but I wouldn't know.
I'm stuck with the problem from long ago.
When I question it, they throw words.
Maybe they answered already,
But I didn't make the connection.

"You need fulfilment-
To be man, you must be man to the fullest.
Work with responsibility.
Motion with pride.
Freedom."
But how can a slave be free?
I think they said this about me,
That I'm a bureaucrat.
They say it negatively.
But how can I find Who I am
If no one tells me what Who looks like
Or how to find it, since
I'm too stupid to know myself?
Maybe they answered already,
And the disconnect lies in me.

Or maybe they don't know,
And I'm surrounded by astronomers,
Which is why in the grand scheme
I'm invisible to them,
And my thoughts never sound their ears.
Yet with all that's stuck inside,
I feel so empty.
Maybe I have nothing good to say.
The astronomers-
They know how to find the heart,
But since they don't know what it means,
They throw stones at it
And wonder why it dies.
The content from this is inspired by "The Stranger" by Albert Camus, "Wind, Sand, and Stars" by Sainte-Exupery, and a class on the nature of man. The style is inspired by Robert Frost.
Lizzie Feb 2020
Droning, droning, on and on,
The teacher sings a tuneless song.
My mind gives way to the beat
And finds lessons in counting sheep.

A week has passed, or maybe two.
How long it lasts! My patience is through.
But when I look at the time,
Its only been some minutes - nine.

"Turn to this page," the teacher says.
That's my cue: I lift my head.
I can play this boring game;
I'm master of attention feigned.

What's the point  of an hour
Dedicated to fruitless shower
Of words and words I've read before?
I tell you this, I can't take more.

Then it ends and we are free.
My mind floods over with relief,
Until I remember with pain
That soon we'll do it all again.
The views expressed in this poem do not neccesarily reflect the views of the author. ;)
Lizzie Feb 2020
Poor Ben could not last a verse;
The more he went, the worse and worse.
The Lad came in the door each night,
But never lingered in his sight.

When Ben found one, he'd lose two,
And so the Mondays quickly blew.
A line was had, but not before
Poor Ben had scrambled all the more.

Two months went by with fruitless din.
The Lad went out when Ben came in.
When at last Ben held him tight,
He vanished straight from our sight.

Then Ben stood still (we held our breath).
A verse! Then two! Now three! -- A rest.
All eyes on him with hopeful gasp,
And Ben said all… except the last.
Back in highschool we had to memorize and recite a poem each monday. If we did badly enough, the teacher would reassign it for the next week. One of my classmates was meant to recite "The Lad came in the Door at Night," but he was quite the slacker!
Lizzie Feb 2020
A man reclining in a chair -
His legs straight out, his hands in hair.
What toppled this tree such that
He landed in a way like that?

Up and down, his head it goes,
And now I see his eyelids close.
What droning tune did he hear
That sent him to someplace not here?

But at last his chin finds rest
On his slowly heaving chest.
What luck the teacher did not see
A slacking student such as he!
When one of my peers fell asleep in class the other day, I couldn't help but write this poem.
Lizzie Feb 2020
There are thoughts that crowd me
Choke me, drown me
Lose me in a fractal name
And drown me in an endless flame

Questions I’ll never know
Skills I will never show
With no words to say it
I simply can’t convey it

A feeling with no sense
No sound, no touch, no scent
A feeling with no shape
(A theft, a ****, a ****).

Living in this gruesome time
My bleeding mind
Is suffocating
Next page