Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2014 Antonio
Erenn
Bully
 Sep 2014 Antonio
Erenn
I really wonder everytime
How they feel
When they crush every norm’s entities
Is this part of a ritual you religiously do?
Do you smirk or grin everytime you did?
Do you feel better perceiving lives too see them ache?
You do don’t you?


Why?
Because you've been there
You felt that pain, that agony that preludes
That melancholy past precedes you everytime
"Why always me?"
Why do you end up in bruises and blood-
Dripping from beginning to the end?
End?
No!
There’s no end to this
Unless you make it stop


But why relay the pain on others?
You created that villain in your head
You've become what you hate
Do you like that?
Making others suffer for what ‘they' did

You were once good
You still are
Well your pretense won an Oscar for the 'Ignorant'(s)
They know what you did
You broke their wings and the mettle they believed in
They don’t want to lose a 'Friend' like you
Their courage demised never to prevail again
You became this (****)tator
Which everyone obliged cowardly

But be reminded
Like every TV Show
The Hero always wins
Karma will be chasing you
Waiting for the right moment to expose you
You will get the retribution you deserved

You will cry
Remorse will elevate in your senses
And Every Name, Every Face, Every Sound
*Will be remembered to those you maimed.
Which is worse?
Getting bullied or being the bully?
Always remember we're all humans.
Bullying will never stop if we don't voice out or put in effort to.
This is for the voices that were never heard and their voices gone forever.
This is for the ones who are willing to help knowing how it feels.
This is for our children who would eventually become one in the future.
This is for the ones fighting till this very day.
This is for 'you'.
You hung up on me mid sentence.
But I continued talking, Rocking back and forth on my bed.
Blurting out all the things I should have said.
I convinced myself you could hear me just fine.
But there was no voice on the other end of the line.
There's a boy by your name, who looks a lot like you too.
He used to be a good friend of mine.
I've lost touch with him (with you)
I still know everything there is to know about you.
And I don't believe I can carry on without you.
my bone's ache.
And no, this isn't my first heart break.
But I'm a t
                a
               l
               l
tree. And they're just a broken bottom branch.
You're more like my root system.
You're throwing more curve ***** then I can catch.
I'm acting more on emotions than on wisdom.
No, I didn't mean to get this attached.
But overtime the cigarette in your mouth
became the chimney to my house.
and the smoke you exhaled made me feel at home.
That's all hypothetical.
Maybe I'm not being sensible.
But I still love you.
Isn't that sad?
A skipping stone in love with a boy who hit rock bottom.
the same boy I once had.
Everything is dying.
We act like it's something beautiful and refer to it as Autumn.
But there is nothing beautiful about Dead things.
Nothing is beautiful about dead tree leaves.
Or dead feelings you have for me.
That used to thrive.
And I can't **** mine,
my feelings for you.
they're very much alive.
Maybe more so than I am.
Maybe I'm dying too.
I mean, It is Autumn.
Or perhaps you say Fall.
But I don't think I could fall any harder for you.
I've broken more than just bones.
Why does Love make us feel so alone.
There's no warmth of a fire place in my home.
My chimney is missing.
But Baby, If you're listening.
I'm tired of feeling alone.
I'm cold.
Why won't you say you love me too?
I'm cold and I need you.

© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Death near
don't open the door
forgotten ruptured sky
sees you and I
riches are impossible
in the blinding dust
vision is beyond the horizon
fighting to win
you back
come close to losing all....

Each selective thought
will bring about
pieces .......
that we will think is love
discarding the rest
in street dust
of many tomorrows to come

It has been years since
you left me so long ago
trying to forget
daily life .... that we loved so
this is the last poem
that l will write
of the pain
you brought about


Time schedules
Timbre slows
so very far
in a varied substance
of liquid foam
as death
knocks
don't open the door.....*

By Debbie Brooks
We all know death is coming and remembering all the yesterdays of pain.. can seem no more..
 Sep 2014 Antonio
SG Holter
Ahhh...
 Sep 2014 Antonio
SG Holter
Sweet sound
Morning darkness
Breeze's whispers of
Snow

Ahhh... I'm almost there
She moans against the
Naked back of
Everything

The queen of
Inbetween
Seasons
Touching greens

Not to **** but lull
Not to take but
Present
This

Is -just like any other
Ending- not an
End at
All
 Sep 2014 Antonio
Bruised Orange
I chase words and phrases
round and round inside my head.
My thoughts slide.
They are soft butter on a hot knife.

Dripping from the blade,
they slip, without pretense,
into my waiting hand.

I cup these thoughts in my palm,
and pour my melted butter words
onto your paper heart.
Another repost, for Joe Cole's number nine challenge on words.
 Sep 2014 Antonio
L
20w
 Sep 2014 Antonio
L
20w
No free verse
         haiku
            or sonnet
could ever portray
the amount of love
this beating,
bleeding heart
holds for
you.
For my girl.

**
Leigh
 Sep 2014 Antonio
Ady
I've nothing to offer
but
my simple writing on papers.
Next page