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 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
Rapunzoll
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

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my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)
 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
Genevieve
Fear** is the thorn bush
Seeking refuge in my left ventricle
Stealing all the oxygen from the rest of my body
Keeping me immobile for fright of suffocation
Feeding my brain with insecurity
And self depreciation.

Saying things like
He doesn't really want you back.
You don't really mean that much.
You're an embarrassment.
You're too demanding.
You're too broken to fix.
And who would want to help with repairs anyways,
You charity case?

So you see,
There really is no escaping this
Without injesting herbicide
Or ripping my heart out.
 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
Kara Jean
I seem to make a mess even when trying to be my best

I wear that sweater covered in feelings

The thing we're programmed to receive

Respect is never given to the hurt


pretty disgusting


Never, a word death is kissing

Karma will eat your soul

I guess that's the goal,


when you have nothing

I wish to walk away from the plenty

Only to be something


For a nobody

who loves me
 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
jane taylor
as you awaken
from deepest slumber
as amber dawn
opens your eyes
with whispers of lavender
remember the sweeping stillness
allow it
to continually cascade
washing you
with hints
of autumn’s rising sun

©2016janetaylor
i place many of my poems over my photography
to see the poem/pic combo go to
http://www.janetaylorhardy.com/single-post/2016/10/15/autumn-awakening
 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
Joel M Frye
Having been a stray myself

I seem to attract them.
 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
Polar
Dreams
 Oct 2016 Pinkbun17
Polar
My dreams they feel so far away
I watch them drift and silent pray
That they'll return to me someday
But now it doesn't feel that way.

I wait for signs that don't arrive
And feel as though I'm bare alive
Drift through life and fail to thrive
Cos dreams seem far away
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