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  Nov 2014 Bipolar Hypocrite
Tessa
here i sit and memories swarm out in front of me
unwinding moments which come undone
they have been tucked away tightly
until now

i pick up scents of have-beens
i close my eyelids and i remember
i dance with you again in yesterdays of the past
reminiscing is sweet

sometimes i dream of the past
i try and tell you all the yearnings of my heart
with my eyes
try to warn of the tragedy that is inevitable

at the end of these wandering golden dreams
which only last for seconds
you look at me one last time,
i try to hold your beautiful hand,
try to keep you with me longer,
you tell me with your eyes
and i hear you
i can hear you leaving me
all over again
είσαι όμορφη
σαν μια ανοιξιάτικη μέρα
είσαι όμορφη
σαν τη θάλασσα
και υπόσχομαι
ότι δεν ψεύδομαι
τουλάχιστον όχι στα ελληνικά
Yeah it's Greek. You can google translate it if you want to know what it says.
  Nov 2014 Bipolar Hypocrite
Eudora
You'll never know...
When you'll be head over heels
The most enchanting feeling in the world
Your unknown desires, it reveals
A current in you will endlessly twirl

You'll never know...
When happiness fills your heart
Having a precious bundle of joy in your arms
You'll realize in your life, he's the most important part
Not forgetting, he'll make the best morning alarms

You'll never know...
When your heart will be scrunched
Like a ball from a piece of paper
Feels like your chest is being ruthlessly punched
Your skin peeled off with a serrated scraper

You'll never know...
When a friend will turn his back
Whose hand you held, all these years
Intentionally causing an emotional attack
In disbelief, you gather invisible tears

You'll never know...
When you'll be caught in an unexpected plight
Daily reflections occur, due to lack of wisdom
To ease your dark path, you yearn for a ray of light
Nothing much you can do except to crave for freedom

You'll never know...
When the time comes, you might bleed to death
Tears will flow drowning your skin
As you breathe your last breath
You wish you had more time to atone for your sins
You'll never know what and when things will happen..
#life  #happiness  #love  #disappointment  #betrayal
#regret #pain #death
I Love your poetry.

Your few words can portray emotions,
that take forever to get out into the open.

Every time I see,
your name in my notifications
I feel giddy
knowing a true poet has seen my poems,
out of all the better ones on this website.

First time I saw you,
you had talked about Hello Poetry,
and I thought of how wonderful,
you made it sound.

Because it is.

Every word you write,
has a heavy meaning.
And every punctuation you added,
carries a strong emotion.

Your simple wineglass,
seems to define so much,
yet nothing I could ever understand.

I just want you to know,
that your poetry is unique,
and if you are ever in need
of a helping hand,
I’ll be happy to give you my left.

So, keep this poem in mind,
because it took me so long to think of.
I couldn't digest the right words,
but they were there,
in the open air.

Your poems leave me speechless,
I guess.
Since I can't seem to compliment you,
that easily.

But if I were to just use words,
in no order,
they would be:

Spontaneous. Brilliant. Amazing. Magnificent.

To describe you through
your infinite poetry.
this is for the dear blank challenge, and took me forever to write. Born is an amazing poet and you should really check him out! He's l'incroyable!
I dance,
Because I have to.

For the love of dance?
Hell no.
For the love of the examiner.

My teacher's words,
Screaming constantly into my ears.
What I was doing was wrong,
I would never get points for that.

Smile, not for the audience,
But because the examiner doesn't like
Glum faces.

Oh whatever happened,
To the true meaning of Dance?

I don't know.
It's gone,
just like my happiness,
and hopes,
of being better.

My jumps are not filled with beauty,
but sweat.
My pointe work does not look amazing;
It looks tiresome.

Is there ever going to be a day,
When exams don't matter?
No.
Never.
It will forever count
As my life.

People think I have a choice-
I don't.

I can't dance without being judged;
Heck, dancing is nothing without judgement.
Beg for mercy?
Never.
I'm not weak.

Yes, ballet, to me, is like war
Between me and my teacher,
or maybe me and everyone who thinks otherwise.

I'm nearing my Waterloo,
but I won't surrender yet.

But, maybe I have.

I have been brainwashed.
All I want now is good grades.
A distinction.

I don't love dance,
I do it for everyone else who does.

If you look closely,
You can see my tiresome face,
but soulless eyes.

No one understands,
what I’m trying to say,
so I stop trying.

Yes, I've given up.

I don't dance for myself,
I dance for the examiner.
so, to all those people to say i should dance because i love it: ***** you. this is why i dance.
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!
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