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I walk alone at the streets of a busy world.
I eat alone at the beautiful and messy cafe...
I sleep alone without a teddy bear by my side...

Yet I never felt alone...
I felt that I always had company.

Company that made me feel happy...
That gave me the freedom of solitude.

Being a loner isn't lonely.

Because the loneliest thing in the world is...
To be with a group of people who was never
A part of You...
Decided to write a poem... I hope it isn't bad. I randomly made it.
Yes, I liked that feeling; that feeling of sadness, melancholy and nostalgia. I felt a little happy when I start crying out of nowhere, because it just cleanses my soul. It cleanses the things that hurt me the most.

Crying is not a bad thing. But a good thing...
Releases what you can't release in this cruel world.

Crying are not for babies...
But for those who are weary and tired...

Crying is a clamor for help.
A kind of help for those who are discouraged and hopeless...

Crying is... Not a bad thing.
But a good thing.
For our soul.
That wishes to be... Free again
This is a poem I made when I came back from a trip. I remembered crying the whole week, listening to sad songs and had no hope or courage to do fun things at all... I guess it was because I was tired too.
I never liked the big world.

I always liked the small holes that lead to the peaceful yet mysterious world.

And inside that hole was... Everything I wanted in life.

No, not the gold, the riches or whatever you think it may seem.

But it's the lovely scenery, the fresh air, nice places to eat, a cozy home and...

Love from family and friends

To me... These are the simplest things in life that I wish for...
Made this poem because as I got older, I realized... I am not really after the riches of the world but the simplest things that are rich in love.
As I walk in the streets...
I see the rain with nostalgia and melancholy.
I cry as the drop of rain falls down.

I can no longer speak the language that society speaks.
For I could not anymore compromise and try to belong...
I can only fall upon my own feet. Resorting back to where I once belong.
I only stumble when I try being a part of society.

My strength is now weakness. My weakness is now strength.
Nothing can deceive me.
I only belong in a cage of my own...
I will jump over to escape from this cruel world.

And start my own.
Made this poem for English class. This is about my introvertism... Yeah.
The cheesiest thing... Is that when the parmesan and mozzarella melt, they become one.

Just like how he and I kissed at our wedding. We marry and become one soul.

We are like gruyere and onion soup... We soak ourselves in the broth of love...

When we think of each other, we are like bleu cheese and crackers, our soul complements each other.

The cheesier our love... The more our hearts melt when our eyes meet...
Our love is described by the nature of cheeses.

How some strong cheeses are complemented with the sweetest fruits, how some cheeses are worth melting for and how some cheeses are eaten just the way they are.

Just like how we fall in love when opposites attract, how someone is worth sacrificing for and how we fall in love with someone who’s just the way they are.
This was for school. My English teacher told us to write something sappy and cheesy. And I literally did. Did write something cheesy. Lol.
I always wish to go back in a certain time...
And relive the moment that I never relived.

During those certain times...
They were not the best time for me...
They were painful and sorrowful...

But now that I saw what it really looked like
I have an heartache that wishes to live those times...
Even if I was never meant to live in that certain time.

The only thing I can do now is...
Relived that certain time by listening to...
Music.

For it is the only way to recreate a memory...,
A memory that never really existed in reality.
Everyday, I get heartaches of Nostalgia. :| :(
Walking away...
From all the troubles of the world...
From all the dramas of the world..

Is one thing I wish for.

It some how struck me because...
Unlike some, I never really wished for...
Power, Fame, or too much Gold...

I only wished to live in a small town...
Have lovely set of friends...
Have a decent home...

Is what I wish for...
To remain simple....

Be closer to God...
Have faith in Jesus...
Pray everyday...

Is what I do...
To remain grounded...

Running away from Society...
Is one thing that will keep me...

From becoming a person that I am not....
Random Poem but it speaks of what my thoughts are and how I wish to run away from everything. And my love for Jesus. He's great and awesome :)
I love the tunes of sad melodies...
The meaning of gloomy lyrics...

They bring me back to a place...
That I call home.

The kind of home that lives in me.

For not all will understand.
And not all has the knowledge...

That this is the true side of me.
That no one will ever know...
I wanted to make a poem about my past time. Listening to sad music. It brings in more emotion and deepness than happiness. While making this poem, I was listening to the band called, "The Callings" and their song "Wherever You Will Go". When I was a kid, I didn't like this song... But now that I'm a lot older, I learned to appreciate the deep meaning of the lyrics. I really love this song now :)
I
need
sleep...

lots of...
Sleep!

But I love...
Sleeping late.
And waking up early.

Having a conflict with two different things yet...
All I want to see is...

The Moonlight.
And The Sunrise...

... Both beautiful
And divine...

What do I do then...?

I guess...
Only see both Sunrise and Moonlight...
In my dreams...

When my eyes are shut, and my mind becomes...
Colorful, and the soul... Becomes imaginative.

I guess...
This is what sleep brings you.
Things that the human eye, can't really see.
I need sleep, you know?
it feels better when you imagine a non existent universe in your head.

because it's a place that make you feel that you could breathe better.

And when you think of such, it's a place that the soul yearns to be in.

But sadly, only the head has gone to that place and not even the body and soul can go to such place.
The rush of nostalgia in your blood
The joy in your heart
It was supposed to feel that way when you see them again.

For me, it felt intoxicating.
The bitter poison in my heart tasted like a snake's venom.
The taste wasn't pleasant at all because the memories weren't.

And it was all because I was different.
High school didn't feel like a bed of roses.
It felt like an uphill battle.
I had to cry at night, crumble bit by bit, convince myself to keep on going and so much more.
And it was all because I wasn't like any of them.
I stood by the very essence of who I am.
I didn't just sit there and uttered nothing.

I was myself and being myself was the adversary of society.
It was the fear of those who couldn't be themselves.

The fight of having to stay true to who you are was one hell of a fight.
In the army full of people staying true to their stereotypes, I had to keep on going by being myself, even if it felt like the world was crushing me.

And now, I promised myself from this day on, I will no longer be a victim of this. I will no longer spend my time with people who didn't support the essence of who I am.

From now on, I will be selfish and I will shed the old skin that I've been dragging for years.

I will constantly drink from my well of self.
I will wear the skin that I've been longing to wear.
I will repeat on loop my faith in God, my dreams, my future, my life.

This is my way of forgetting and regaining peace.
This is my way of saying goodbye to the people who didn't even try to know me, and didn't want to try to know me.

All because trying to know something new or  being a part of something new was too much work, and discriminating wasn't.
Writer's block.
Always blocking our creative minds.

And I am experiencing one right now.

Ugh, ugh, ugh...

What to write, what to write...?

Can't write something ******.
Can't write something that's not well composed.

Can't write... Ugh, ugh, ugh...

What to write, what to write...?

Love, ***, Art, Hatred, ****..., what?
You tell me. You tell me star-writer.

I guess, I need a potion for ideas...
Like alcohol.
Yeah.
That'd work.

Lol, let's drink then.
It's about having writer's block. Lol, I literally had Writer's Block when I wrote this... Lol!

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