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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!
I trusted you with my secrets
I trusted you with my life
I trusted you with my love
I trusted you with details of my strife
I trusted you with my demons
And the darker parts of my soul
I trusted you with my odd sense of humor
I trusted you with me as a whole
I trusted you with my loyalty
And with my lighter side
I trusted you with my failures
And with everything else I hide
I trusted you with forever
And the pain that’s in my eyes
When the only thing I should
Have trusted you with was goodbye

Repost if someone has betrayed your trust...or if you like ice cream.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my work or stories or any thoughts you might have on my poetry or even just poetry itself as an art.
Repost if someone has betrayed your trust...or if you like ice cream.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my work or stories or any thoughts you might have on my poetry or even just poetry itself as an art.
I know your soul's corpse lives in lies and
when you're alone in a crowded room
The cracks turn to crevices
That morph into your tomb

I'd love to hear anyone's interpretation of my poem PLEASE comment!! :)
Repost if you understand the poem.
The hushed twilight steals away
The breath of those who look upon
The final moment of undarkened beauty
Hours before the whispering glow of dawn
The glimmering starlight bathes a child
In a store bought princess dress
Plastic magic wand in hand
She feels the warm evening wind’s caress
She’s crept out of her bedroom tonight
To make her secret wish
The way they do in fairy tales
But hers is so beautifully unselfish
Her tragic yearning she keeps inside
Is for someone other than herself she wishes she could save
She begs the twinkling night crystal
To bring her daddy back to life from the grave

Repost if you know someone or are someone who has lost a parent.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry or your thoughts on my work or on poetry itself as an art! :)
Repost if you know someone or are someone who has lost a parent.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry or your thoughts on my work or on poetry itself as an art! :)
Darkness, it's so mysterious
A sign of the abyss
We can't penetrate it with our eyes
We will never no what's beneath

It can be a color called black
Which people will wear
It's for grieving and for sadness
And for protection too
They won't come near, if they fear
The emotional abyss
The one that in srounded by our
Dark outfit

It can be a hiding place
For those who always fear
With no lights they can't come near.
It gives us a place of freedom
But it frees our enemies too
We can't see them coming,
The monsters under the bed.
As they hide within
Their darkened mist
In the dark abyss.

It can be the unknown,
A shade of mystery.
We are all left in the dark
When we think of this shade.
We can't see, we can't know
Whatever lies beneath,
Is unknown to us humans
As it wiggles in the deep.

It can be evil
The sign of tainted good
The color white muddied,
By the darkened sins.

It shows us when to hide
Since the monsters come at night
It is the spookist of colors
The one that shows us death.

But it can be beauty too,
A protective guard over us.
A shroud of mystery
To keep the others guessing.

It lets us be alone
When we truly wish.
It hides us from our enemies
And keeps the small ones safe

After all when its night
And we all wish to sleep
We plunge our selves into darkness
And welcome the abyss.
Repost if the darkness has ever shown you beauty, protection or hope. And please comment I'm always happy to see what you have to say about my poems
do what you are made to do.
birth babies, wipe the counters,
wipe your eyes from
the dust that settles in the corners;
the recurring moisture, as loyal as Seattle rain.

if you have dreams, crush them.
you are crazy, manic, wild with
hot air balloons yet to be deflated
because they should have never taken flight.

if you want my advice?
turn back around.
march back to your apartment.
accept the walls around you:
they are your protection.

*a curious mind, with curious fingers, feeling for knowledge; that is a very dangerous thing
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