Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 2018 Rimea
Emma Price
It's not difficult to go against the crowd
if you have a precedence for doing so

Pushing back on bandwagoning
is often a bandwagon activity

Making all decisions as the exact opposite of the crowd
is still allowing the crowd to decide what you do

It isn't very hard to beat the status quo
but it is to beat your personal precedence

Always going against the crowd
isn't any better than always going with it

The real challenge comes in
making every decision for yourself based on truth

Not going against the crowd
but ignoring it entirely
~much love
 May 2018 Rimea
Andrew Durst
My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.
Thank you to anyone that reads this.
 May 2018 Rimea
Pax
Too many shattered Mirrors
Mirroring my sins.

Too many walls
Hindering my wings.

My growth remains
  still
as silence Kills.

How do you love the
Unloved?
I was never a writer
I was just some poet
Who seek some
understanding in my
understatement @pax

at times I feel so tired...
thanks to those who still read me..
 May 2018 Rimea
Meera
My pen bleeds
As its ink seeps
My words cry
The seer weeps
I keep scrawling
Until my pain recedes
Walking on my way
Where my lament leads
Crumbling to bones
Changing to fit the needs
My frailty drives me
As nothingness breeds
In madness I did
Those fearful deeds
Now I'll have to pay
The price of my greed
Making me suffer
My demons succeed
In the garden of love
I feel like a ****
I am looking for my way
To the flowery meads
Where the chains will be shattered
And then I will be freed
Sometimes you just feel lost and there seems no way out
 May 2018 Rimea
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
 May 2018 Rimea
Colm
The universe puts her headphones on
And plays her favorite track
The raindrops in the meadow burst
And soak the earth
And with her feet up on the world
She smiles from ear to ear
And plays it back
What songs does the universe listen to? Is there a more beautiful sound than the rain falling in the secluded meadow. Truthfully, I don't know. But I do love the sound of these words as they roll off the tongue. YUPP!

BIG THANKS to everyone who liked, commented, and helped make this verse the Poem of the day (on 05/18/18). I really appreciate it! You can listen to me read this poem live on SoundCloud. Just follow the link and have an awesome day!  

https://soundcloud.com/user-433755196/her-favorite-song-1
Breathe in, breathe out, then die.
That’s what I’ve done for the past 4,271,344 seconds, and I’m exhausted.
I don’t want to breathe anymore.
I don’t want to do anything anymore.
I’m not even scared of dying, I am so so scared of living though.
I wrote them a letter about who I am.
Who I am is not what they want.
Maybe it’s my fault for lying in the letter, I told them I was happy while holding back tears.
I wonder when my lies will stop being enough for people to stop checking on me.
Give them a smile, tell them “I’m okay”, and they’ll leave you to pick yourself apart.
I’m so tired.
And my ribs feel so heavy.
But don’t worry.
I’m okay.
I’ll just breathe in,
Breathe out.
And die.
A ****** poem for ****** feelings
Next page