She was dark, drowning in her thoughts
Couldn't find her way to what she lost
She was damaged, scarred from heart to soul
Too bruised to remember what made her whole
She was in pain, constantly fighting back tears
But never brave enough to fight her fears

He was young and stupid--a ******* at heart;
a self-loathing so strong it tore him asunder
The things he needed always fell apart;
the things he wanted, denied, leaving his heart to hunger

She was a dreamer until life gave up on her
Too many demons to battle but she wasn't a fighter
She made wishes on falling stars and smoldering skies
But she was cursed, the heavens told her lies
She was dead inside, yet living within the crowd
Her screams for help were never heard, but still so loud

He was **** outta luck: the world fresh outta *****
Heart and soul burning--the proverbial candle ,
and it's it only a matter of time before Xanax
fails to give him a reason to even get up
It's hard, it's Hell--it's too much to handle,
but he's too paranoid to even panic

She's too scared to think of how few people care
Never opens her heart, she wouldn't dare
Confiding in the voices only she can hear
Believing the ***** no one gives, outta fear
She's dangerous, made too many mistakes
It's all her fault she knows nothing but heartache

He's alone, he's paranoid; a self-fulfilling prophecy
teetering on the edge of extinction
A dying breed bastardized by blood and water alike
How can he be saved when acceptance Id heresy?
They all think he's just pining for the next reason
to say, "No more beginnings," and end his life

She's lost her will, her strength to survive
Nothing's figured out, no reason to be alive
Balancing her life on the edge of a blade
She gets cut, no matter which side she takes
Holding tightly to the sharp point of reality
She's lost focus, just walking through life blindly

He's a sympathetic tool playing by apathetic rules;
it's only a matter of time before he knuckles down
No more bitter Mondays--out comes the Saturday Night Special
He's living on borrowed time; it's time to pay the dues
When you tread a fine line, you slowly come unwound
come the realization both sides of the tightrope take you straight to Hell

If we went any "gayer" I would be **** free.
Peace, put down your guns and stop firing,
k, make more luv not war! Let it be, let it be...*

Why is it that when there is a war
Everyone has to run and join?
I guess this doesn't sound right,
Perhaps I'm just going blind?

Where is Uncle Sam when I'm mugged
Running through an alley for my life?
Where is the honest soldier when these
Drunk military "saints" just hit their wives?

I am always here, my heart is just the same,
I know there is always war, but why can't
We at least try to make a change?
Just because it's always been, doesn't mean
It must always and forever remain!
How are you military guys so sure
That you're part of the cure, not the pain?

you don't understand how long some people have been here
you don't understand the changes we've seen
you don't understand how much we've longed for the people to
be who they be
you don't understand how it breaks our hearts
to see such infighting
bought to our world from other pages
used to back biting
you don't understand, for us
that have believed from the start
that Hello Poetry was once a place
where we always laid our heart
we gave over our life to this place
we endured every change
when you see something different here
know we have suffered more than this strange
once upon a time
in an awesome time and place
when people googled
Poetry
they found this space
they found inspiration
they found laughter that never ends
they found confidantes and a place
to plant
a never ending garden of friends
So if you're from another site
drawn here by the skin of tooth
sit a while in our midnight garden
and I'll speak to you a truth

Hello Poetry has been my best friend
for over 5 years, and all the friends
I've found on here, they've danced beneath my laugh, and held onto me so tight
that if I ever fall so wrong, they'll make
it all right

And that's the saddest thing
about Hello Poetry today...
is that most don't try
to make true friends
really real friends
or interact with them
in any meaningful way

I woke up in the middle of the night,
and realized that I am more free than I have ever been in my life.

Yet,
All I want to do
is show up on your doorstep--
perhaps in one of those rainstorms you love so much better than me--
and beg you to strip the gold leaf from the bars,
because this cage I’ve built of one-way fantasies
is still better than sleeping alone,
and the gilding is all I have to offer
that could possibly compare with the brilliance of her sun.