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I have been told
That I have to learn how to smile
Because I have been using it in the wrong way
I thought it was to tell people you are okay
Even if you aren't
Apparently it is to show people
You are happy
idk
The Fear of the Future
The Phobia of Change
The Assassination of the Human Pride
As their Souls Quake in Terror
At the Thought of What Could Be

There is But One Thing
A Mortal Being Dreads more then
What Could Be
And That is The Fear of
The Empty Void of The Afterlife

For the Humans Have no Knowledge
Of What Comes
After A Soul Passes from
This World Unto the Next
And What Waits for All Mortal Beings There

But What scares Humans Most
Is Those who Do Not Fear
There was a girl
Quiet like anyone else
As a young child
Her eyes always wide open
In wonder
She was excited for everything
If a flower had grown
It was a miracle
If she discovered a caterpillar
She was as ecstatic
As someone who had found
The cure for cancer
But as she grew
She did not
Lose her sense of wonder
Her eyes remained wide open
To the world around her
While her peers
Complained and mocked
She would celebrate
Every little thing
Any achievement
Anyone made
If she saw an amazing sunset
She would gush about it
For days on end
If she found a bird
Broken
She would strive
To fix it
And if it couldn't be fixed
She would give it
A funeral honouring its life
Her classmates turned on her
And ridiculed her
For her sense of awe
And though it hurt her deeply
She did not change
She did not hate them
As she was left alone
She simply smiled at them
Whenever they walked by
She made it out of high school
With her determination to
See the amazing in everyone
Or thing
As her only companion
She became a well known
Artist
And people talked of her
With admiration
For the way she could capture any moment
And make others she the beauty
In it
The girl kept her wide eyes
And her sense of wonder
Until the day she died
I am not always open to see the beauty in things, I wish I could. I love watching younger cousins who still have that sense of amazement with the world.
Repost if someone you know hasn't lost their sense of awe brother, sister, son, daughter, niece, nephew, friend, friend's sibling, anyone.
People of all ages sitting in a circle staring at the ground, ceiling, etc. a few twitching.

"Hi, I'm Fred."

"Hi Fred"

"I started this group because I found that I was on Hello Poetry 24/7. I got an account and I loved it. At first I was only on a little, posting one or two poems a day. But I loved it so much I began spending more time on it. It became a problem when I was fired for focusing on Hello Poetry instead of the heavy machinery I was operating. I was drinking so much coffee so I didn't have to sleep that I couldn't think straight. I began writing strange poems about adhesive sloths and grapes. My wife threatened to leave me if I didn't delete my account. I tried to stay off it but, it didn't work out. My wife took my kids and told me that I was too irresponsible. I responded with a limerick. She was very mad and left immediately after. I really want to stop being addicted to Hello Poetry and when I asked I got an overwhelming response from people who felt the same. If everyone could please introduce themselves in a clockwise direction."

"Hi… I'm… um… kittylover682"

"Hi kittylover682"

"So… I used to have a name, but now I can only remember my screen name. In fact, that is really the only part of my identity that remains. I miss obsessing over kitties and petting them, but now I just spend all my time on Hello Poetry. I used to have such a kitty-full life! I had so much potential! i made friends with every type of kitty, even new ones, i never discriminated. I met persian kitties, and alley kitties and tabby kitties and I went and pet them and showed them love… then i got kicked out of people's houses for sneaking in to pet their kitties… but my point is, kitties were my LIFE! And now, my life revolves around that little lightening bolt and i can only seem to speak in metaphors. That lightning bolt is the death of my heart, the thorn in my side, the electricity that warps my body and it just… it is a storm inside of my life. The agony when i see that my lightning bolt is not lit up with a notification… it is an undying fiery hell within my soul. I makes me want to… to… well, it makes me consider leaping off of cliffs or in front of trains… but the only thing that stops me is the hindering idea that I may have to get off of hello poetry for a few moments to go do that so I remain, under my bed on my computer, posting poetry, reading poetry, commenting, liking, reposting… its a VICIOUS CYCLE!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!!!!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet”

“Hi DaPoet”

“Like, kittylover682 I had a different name, but this is MUCH cooler. I don’t think I have a problem, because who says there is anything wrong with being a poet? Also I’m not a normal poet. All of my poems are also raps. I’m here because my mom thinks I have a problem. Apparently choosing poetry over sleep and school is not okay. I don’t understand her ‘logic’”

“Hi I’m DYING”

“Hi Dying”

“No, that’s not my name, who CARES what my name is?! I’m only still here and not on Hello Poetry right now because my sister has chained me to this chair and bolted it to the floor. She thinks I need help but I AM DYING! I need to get on it! I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM! I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Please calm down.”

“Shut up Fred!
There once was a man named Fred,
who got it into his stupid head,
that people needed to be cured,
of the obsession with the written word,
and as soon as I get unchained FRED IS GOING TO BE DEAD!”

“Okay… please stop creating violent limericks on the spot. We have all been there, there IS a way out.”

“I DON’T WANT A WAY OUT! I HATE TO SHOUT, BUT WITHOUT A DOUBT YOU ARE A BIG DUMB LOUT!”

“Okay, stop making really ****** rhymes please.”

“Well then… GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Okay… let’s just move on. We’ll come back to you. Next person, please go on, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut. Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver, after all.”

“Hi I’m…Sally”

“Excuse me, could you put down your phone while you introduce yourself?”

“No… Oh my gosh, Poetry is Life started trending!”

“I’m sorry what?”

“My fourth latest poem started trending!”

“YAY!” *everyone claps and congratulates Sally


“No. No more Hello Poetry. We are supposed to stop obsessing over poetry and be cured from this addiction.”

“I don’t want to be cured.”

“I love Hello Poetry”

“Why don’t we change this to a spoken word club!”

“Yes!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet and I declare this a new spoken word club!”

“YAY!”

“No no no! I created this to-” Sally clubs Fred in the head with her phone and he drops dead

“YAY! FRED IS DEAD!”

“He was hit in the head”

“And we are now free”

“To write continuous poetry!”

“And become more obsessed instead!”

The end.


REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!
REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!
Wounds will heal
Over time
Even if it takes
Decades
But the memories that
Came from the pain
Last much longer
I know
I have scars
That mark the pain
Everyone does
But not all
Scars show
Skin is not the only
Surface you can
Break
Hearts
Can be slit
Just as easily
So be careful
Every person is fragile
Some seem more
Breakable
Than others
But not all
Scars show
A heart is not the only
Surface you can
Break

Confidence
Can be shattered
Just as easily
So be careful
Every person is fragile
Confidence can
Be broken
Faster
Than anything else
And it takes so long to
Repair
I know
I have scars
But not all
Scars show
Repost if you can relate. Or if you just really like the repost button.
Sometimes people are so quiet
They are almost invisible
It can take days
Before they realize they have been noticed

Sometimes people are so scared
Of being hurt again
It can take months
For them to say "hi" back

Sometimes people are so sure
No one will ever love them
It can take years
To unbury their hidden self

Sometimes it can take moments
Repost this if someone has taken a moment for you. Then Pay It Forward for someone else who needs it.
I am
                             A dancer
                             A writer
                             An artist
                             A musician
A creator
                             But if you
                             Wanted
                             To see
What I create
                             A dance
                             A story
                             A painting
                             A song
I would
                             Refuse
                             Turn Red
                             Stall
                             and Deflect
Your attention
                             Because
                             I am
                            Afraid
                            My creations
Will let you
                            Judge me
                            Criticize me
                            Hate me
                            Mock me
They are
                            A piece of me
                            A thought
                            An emotion
                            A fleeting moment
And they are
                            Mine
So if I show you
                            I trust you
Please don’t betray my trust
Repost if this is you.
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