Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
hsn Feb 5
i live in my own mirage of countless bees
and their honey-touched compliments,
the delicate petals they bear—the
only solace i'll find in this sad
dulled hive of a recluse
hsn Feb 4
a single touch of welcoming
is all i desire, no matter the
strain it will have.
i am for it all
hsn Feb 4
burdened on my shoulder rests a green, white flag
it's simplicity, yet it's alien appearance to all these
white blinded people with their white-like-mindedness-
-their morality consumed by (white) promises of humor,
telling me i should go back to where i left for their own sake
my mom tells me, "ignore their words." my father the same.
they wouldn't care since they have already found their kind
within this land of maple leaves and unpromising history
so why do i have to bear the burden of
carrying the flag of the stars for them?
hsn Jan 19
why must i hold on to a light
that doesnt approve of me?
hsn Jan 16
frozen still in silver secretion
forever perceived in a million
concepts; a story engrained, and
it goes...
art is interpretive and doesnt have a concrete purpose
it is up to the viewer to interpret the story behind all
things regardless of the artists intent
hsn Jan 16
06
that still lunar light;
it shines ever so brightly
in the quiet night
hsn Jan 16
it feels all to awkward
listening in to the chimes
of others as i sit silently
wondering why i even bother
socializing when there is no point
of me including myself within
their laughs and jokes
Next page