Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 3h
Val Vik
Remember when dreams
brought happiness?
And then, we grew up.
from childhood into adulthood
Poetries wear the pain so beautifully..
Poetry : My best friend
Sadness is a disease.
It cripples your well being.
 2d
Chris
Working and pregnant?
No time off

Graduated from college?
4 years; no job

Born into a poor family?
Invest in real estate

Paid minimum wage?
Work harder.

Sick in need of meds?
Only costs $750

Born a minority?
Stop being lazy

For these reasons and more
We hope you enjoy your stay
In the USA.
Capitalism is broken.

If you don't agree with that after reading this poem, feel free to DM me and I'll see if I can show you more reasons as to why Capitalism is flawed.

Have a wonderful day, stay safe, and fight the machine.
I close my eyes and I see you
As little more than a babe in arms
With the biggest gummy grin ever
Sitting on my knee and laughing
As you head-butted me in the chest
Pictures I'll never forget

And then the last time I saw you
Struggling to breathe and barely conscious
Tended by your loving wife
We'd said our goodbyes and "love yous"
We'd hugged when we still could
And I watched you dying of cancer

                               By Phil Roberts
When you rejected the gift I brought you, it stayed with me as a memento of your contempt.
Hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
******* surround me and send me into a rage.
Lonesome soul sinking in the mire.
Too tired to fight, I might need a drink.
In AA there is a saying, Don't get too hungry, angry, lonely or tired or H.A.L.T
 4d
Aishu
"When will you leave?" I asked.
"When you use me to grow yourself,"
replied the pain.
 4d
Crow
She sits by darkened hearth
No warmth now issues forth
Her tattered clothes look more like rags than a dress
But still she carries on
Even when hope is gone
For a princess is a princess nonetheless

If dancing at the ball
Or scrubbing floor and wall
In scullery or in carriage for a ride
Hanging linen out to dry
Or set on throne most high
None of that can ever change what is inside

For it’s not silken gown
Not scepter, sword, or crown
Nor poise to rule court with great ability
Look closer and you’ll find
A heart that’s good and kind
Are the signs of grace and true nobility

Of palaces she dreams
White horses matched in teams
With jewels agleam and in its place each tress
Though life may be unjust
She is regal in the dust
For a princess is a princess nonetheless
There are princesses who never get to wear a beautiful gown or tiara. This makes them no less royal.
Calvino writes about cities.
invisible cities,
cities of memory, of desire, of mirrored eyes.
cities, which are easy to get lost in.
he writes about cities within cities with lost names
and cities of ever-dying inhabitants.
cities, in which, if you stay too long you end up forgetting
yourself.
i think there must be cities of wonder,
of escape,
of dreams within dreams,
cities in which my grief buries itself
and forgets my name.
i wonder if such things are possible.
the longer i stay in the pages,
the more cities i become.
cities which no one ever sees.
cities which are still a part of me nonetheless.

seems unfinished
Next page