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 816° 
Isaac
I watch as the droplet eases itself
down from the wound, into a strip of paper,
scarlet on crimson. some might call it a stain,
but this is no mistake, I will fold myself
in, like blush on cheek, I will make it look real.

is it pathetic to imitate what we can never achieve?
the night sky gloats in silent mockery. the trail of
her dress drags along my dry eyes, and she burns
a hole for every jewel I cannot reach.

is it a sin to covet a sin? my fingers run along
the grooves of my carved pupils, and I can't
remember anything aside from the warmth
of a star in another orbit.

I fold my three hundred and fifty second paper star.
Does the moon believe that these are her children too?
Or are my paper cuts for naught? One day, I know
the paper will be skin and the star will be a sun.

but until then I will bleed, and until then
I will have to suffice with a constellation of scars
that glow in the dark on my ceiling.
 610° 
Gheed
Moons, stars,
planets you
are nothing less
then an earthquake.
For in my heart
you reside.
Deep and
sound, you have built
in me cities, that are
ethereal, for in my words I
can not describe
What are you?
 554° 
Em MacKenzie
You’ve got 99 problems but your loyalty is one,
you’ll never solve them now the World Cup is done.
Achieved by your colours that aren’t so true,
by a Nation that once treasured you.
Gretzky I believe your reign is through.

You used to shoot and inevitably you’d score,
imagine the disappointment of each Gord.
Keep the red and white but add the blue,
betray a Nation that once treasured you.
Gretzky; no longer number one not even two.

Keep your guns and keep your hate,
Canada’s not your fifty-first state.
We’ve always been a Country, one that’s great.

Went to a room and ignored the sign,
now we’ve changed the labels and removed your wine.
Disappointed in what you would do,
to a National that once treasured you.
The sadness and anger only grew.

An apology that will come too late,
Canada will never be your fifty-first state.
Not up for discussion or debate.

A concept you should understand,
you can’t put a “for sale” sign on our land.
The death of a legend came from the hands
of a bad man and a bad plan.
No longer the greatest of all time
after you’ve committed the greatest of crimes.

We won’t take the tariffs or the bait,
Canada will never be your fifty first state.
We’ll cement the actions and the date.

So stay in exile as is it your fate,
Canada won’t be your fifty first state,
cause it’s the one, the one that’s great.
💯 > 99
 428° 
kris
Hate is what drives us,
to spite and despise.
But the love of God
is what changes our hearts.
John 3:16
 426° 
Arthur Vaso
In autumn is always the leaves
in summer is always the rain
without you, is always the tears
falling on my poetry
pages wet
the silence
a knife
slicing my heart to pieces
 416° 
Nina
I miss hearing your voice
it fills my heart
I miss my heart
full of
you
I hope you’re
full of
you
 402° 
Amulya Sharma
The silence during our conversation is not known to be 'an awkward silence', but it includes the bunch of hums produced by our hearts when we are together.
 390° 
Minshutosh Kumar
It was the first drop of blood,
that kissed my messy room surface,
Scars were too tired to be wet again beside my eyes,
The room was darker than a little bright,
It was the period where sunset took over,
the command of sunlight...

The second drop sprinkled on the floor,
they too, were unaware of the pain,
or it's colour, or the ecos of roar,
who else knew I was dying alone,
in my beloved city, as an unknown...

The third drop carried a lot together,
It took over the brightness of sunlight and the surface,
the smog of burning diaries was the reminder
that it's gonna be late night before complete darkness,
and I giggled now for dealing with it really less...

The last shadow of yours left,
was the time of the last drop, the last breath,
I fell on the floor, over the red ashes,
but unlike you I loved, again and again,
blood denied to enter again through my vein...

Through my open eyes, I saw a body lying in solitary,
a painful death in the holy city,
pale eyes, devastated face, and a burnt diary,
It was all here that I could find,
I opened it's last page with my shivering hands,
"A whole book could have I written for you,
but like the mystery of life, you can't be defined..."
 367° 
and nada
Wanting a hug that doesn't seem to come
texts left hanging, I guess we're undone.
Wasn't asking for much,
just a chance to be heard.
Feel like a munch,
faded plans and no word.
 336° 
Nishan Niraula
Two candles, side by side,
Arms of thread—their aid—
Wrapped around as they hug,
Gracious flames of burning shrug.

Two candles, side by side,
They burned and radiated light.
Hesitance grew as they stood;
They burned their thread—passionate mood.

One cried, the other raged.
Flames engulfed the fabric red.
Two candles, side by side—
A burning heart, in between, laid.

Smaller the candles grew,
Glory to the light they drew.
One burning, the other hides—
Two candles, held side by side.
 299° 
Richard Shepherd
"Madam, would you kindly remove
this arrow from my heart?"

"No, I think I'll wait until infection
sets in."

"How cruel you are."
 262° 
Anais Vionet
E - Everyone
T - That
H - Has
E - Eggs
R - Really
E - Expended
A - A
L - Lot
.
.
A song for this:
bad idea! by girl in red [E]
Mrs.Timetable challenge

I think this is an acrostic firefly poem.
I wasn’t sure EGGzactly what to write, my mind seemed soft scrambled.
I was hoping to poach an idea, but it turned out the yoke was on me.
 260° 
Todd Sommerville
Kiss me in the darkness.
Touch me how you want to!

Let the feeling take you,
to places you've never been to.

There is truth in the darkness,
for our souls will find the light,
the light in each other
which brings such delight.

So Kiss me in the darkness,
Let our souls fly to the sun.

Stay with me past the morning,
For our love has just begun.
When a night of passion turns into something
unexpected, into something so much more!
 239° 
Nehal
When the earth celebrates
        a solar year,
The cost of life whispers
        in my ear.
It rose up, the easy act
        won't backup.
The easiness of faceless
        is being asked,
"What is it the result?" I ask.
It's easy for people to leave.
It's easy to be devalued.
It's easy for mind to linger past.
It's easy to reminisce moments,
Cherished memories— yet to be
         closed as a chapter.
It's paradoxical—they face the same.
"What is it the result?" I ask.
It's paradoxical—they feel the same.
 204° 
Hiba Mubashir
Mystic land beyond the sea
Far away, but still I can see
Rise of screams and calamity
And I see no peace in their destiny

Mystic land beyond the sea
Not being what it meant to be

Do you know what I mean?
I say to you haven't you seen?

What's rising beyond the sea, haven't you seen?
Do you know what I mean?
Just listen, their cries
Which resound the skies

Mystic land beyond the sea
Harshly suffering away from you and me
Then how can we,
Live lively when they're suffering desperately?


By Hiba Mubashir
 199° 
Zywa
Love is a moon, it

changes from day to day, there's --


increase, there's decrease.
Novel "De stiefmoeder" (2011, "The Stepmother", Renate Dorrestein), part 'Claire', chapter Five

L'amore è come la luna: quando non aumenta, diminuisce (Love is like the moon: when it does not increase, it decreases)

Collection "Old sore"
 189° 
Lyle
tell me what you see
when you look at me
of course you see the same thing
the same thing I see

of course you see the same
ugliness and darkness
of course you notice
the emptiness and worthlessness

of course you see the same
because there's no prettiness
no worth, no light, no fulfillment
Tell me how you notice the things you say you do!
 175° 
Alvian Eleven
Humanity ?!...
Humanity what ?!...
I see no humanity.
I only see hypocrisy.


March 2025

By Alvian Eleven
 157° 
Gary
Chill of a northern town —
rows of orange streetlights pour,
light on red brick walls.
 140° 
effy
fierce looks from her olive green eyes, 
yellow peaks to shine as arised-
a plane has been waiting for her to arrive
when all she’s been told was a lie 

her line of thinking was a dead 
convicted herself that she had lost her spark 
yet she doesn’t know anything outside of the dark,
and outside of this small town, 

the beds have stayed made for years 
dusts from the people that once called it home,
the memories-
it keeps the little girl’s life that she had lost 
What was she like when she was growing up?
it blended into an unknown, 
when candle was already blown - (12th bday)
(a child that was born into a burning house think that the whole world is on fire)
 138° 
Tommy Le
Maelstrom of regret;
weeping and questioning me:
How could I save him?
I'm sorry Kevin
 136° 
Aisha Karden
Ask me about beauty.
I’ll say it’s the battle of the opposites,
so tragically blind that they are one; forever entwined in redamancy.
Wednesday
and why wouldn't it be?

Work day for you and a
workday for me

we are chained to be free
She says
I have the key
so
I'm going to be nice to her
make her tea and give up my
comfy chair,
but
I'd do that anyway

workday or not.
 131° 
Theodorus Rex
They tried to **** him
They tried to jail him
They tried to discredit him
They tried to remove his dignity
They spread lies about him
Tried to throw him into the fire

All it did was sharpen his resolve
He rose to meet the challenge
He refused to be broken by them
He refused to bend the knee
To their hedonism  
He welcomed discomfort
He was relentless
And did what needed to be done
Fight, fight, fight

He has earned my respect

__________
 128° 
Mrs Timetable
I have so many
Different sides to me
I'm starting to think
I'm geometry
Go figure
 127° 
Charles
a never ending rhythm
we're a matching tempo
following the flow

Setting the strings
Held so tight
strung just right

you're the melody
in my beating heart
 127° 
Salmabanu Hatim
The problem with my son,
Is that he is very nice,
Soft spoken and kind,
He never tells us when he is hurt,
He waits for us to realise the mistake,
And that makes us more guilty.
25/3/2025
 121° 
Samantha
Oh do you know how it feels
To be the tree that falls in a wood
With no one to hear it?

Was it even there to begin with?
 119° 
Ryan O'Leary
If I was American, I think
I’d find it more ecological
to go on a waiting list than
buy a gun to suicide myself.
 112° 
Kezexxe
Take a breath, its ok to be sad,
Take a breath, its ok to cry,
Take a breath, I'm here with you,
Take a breath, its ok to be angry,
Take a breath, but you have to forgive,
Take a breath, you cant be angry forever,
Take a breath, because it will weigh on you,
Take a breath, its harder to be angry than to forgive,
Take a breath, and forgive.
 104° 
Ari
I often look across my skin
for a cut or bruise,
a scratch paper thin,
just for a glimpse,
of the pain within.

Everyone's scars seem laid bare,
others helping them with care,
the pain I feel
seems all but real,
cause no one reaches,
no one tries,
to see the hurt
behind my eyes.
I always feel like my internal turmoil is just my delusions,
and that I'm just fine and I'm only acting stupid.. I tried so ******* this poem T.T Also give me tag ideas, im still pretty new here idk what to put...
 98° 
Karen
The sweetest love
Can melt the heart
It moves the soul.
It leaves a trace
A warm feeling
A beautiful glow
 89° 
Jess
A flower I dared not pluck -
out of love for your radiance,  
out of fear of your silent ache,  
out of care for your unfolding,  
out of awe for the life in you.  

The thought of your wither  
was a storm I could not weather;  
so I let you be, untouched,
praying you would bloom,
forever reaching toward the sun.

Letting you bloom was my wish,
but when the storms came too strong,
you decided to wither away,
because the weight of the world,
felt heavier than your light.

Holding the memory of your petals,
I wonder, if my hands, though gentle,
could have held you together or,
if the storms were always destined
to take you back to the earth so soon.
In the end,
I know that
I never truly loved you.

All I wanted
was myself
the person you took away when you abused me
They say time heal all wounds
And though that may be true
For the majority of scenarios
It’s not an irrefutable fact

For our childhood scratches
May be a fleeting kind of pain
Yet there are some scars that life
Engraves deep within our soul

Like a bullet whose trajectory
Missed my heart by a few inches
But hit a far more damaging target
My very last bit of innocence

Now, when I look into the mirror
Every broken bone lost its meaning
And the echoes of who I once was
Are all that remains to be seen
This is a poem my friend Mariya wanted to have written, but couldn't do it 'cause she's too busy saving the world.
 69° 
Ghost
Je me souviens encore de t'avoir vue dans ce hall. Tu étais plus belle que le ciel lui-même. Tes yeux brillaient et scintillaient comme notre propre galaxie. Je t'ai aimée depuis que je t'ai vue et je t'ai aimée toutes ces années. Je suis désolée, Jennie.
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