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 Sep 2013 Sir B
Sarah
Reality
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Sarah
There once was a girl so sad,
She wrote her life away in a dingy spiral notebook,
Which was ripped and fraying at the bindings,
With a pen of black ink
That put her deepest,darkest secrets
On college lined paper.
The girl wrote so much
and so frequently,
That within weeks
the thick notebook paper
Was devoured by letters,
scrawled Angrly,
paired with salty tears.
When the last page of the notebook was filled
By tight squeezed words and sentences,
The girl shut the notebook
And realized
An eternity has passed,
And she was now an old woman.
When death opened its robe
and herderd her towards him
She welcomed him with a slimy smile
And a warm, welcoming embrace.
For the girl wrote to get away from her tragic
Reality
And it had finally
Slipped
From
Her.
This is all my fault.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
R
You slipped down
Inside my
Soul
And hid a part
Of me that
Once was
W h o l e.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Mike Hauser
Here I sit

In my underwear

In my basement

Late at night

Ignoring all

Family duties

As I contemplate

What next to write

All I now am

Is skin and bones

No time even

For a bite

Can't think of when

I last shaved or bathed

Perhaps 2009?

Poetry

While fun for me

Has hung me

Out to dry

Since joining

Hello Poetry

In the prime

Of my life

Could someone

On the outside please

Tell me is it day

Or is it night

Have they dropped

The big one yet

I need a new subject

On which to write


Oh, I almost forgot!

I need something nice to say!

Thank you hello poetry...so very much!

**For the life I live today!!!
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Maria
I am sorry I have not been writing..

The thing is, that until now, I've been kept busy with boys who have refused to leave my thoughts like a bad song stuck in my head

The thing is that the song was once good but now it only makes me sad,
the thing is that songs aren't as good when you can't picture someone in the lyrics.

The thing is, that you can only quote John Green to yourself so many times until all the words start to get painfully relatable.
Because "Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than the stories and people we're quoting..."
Because "thats the thing about pain, it demands to be felt"

The thing is that it gets hard to filter your feelings
Because everyone gets tired of not feeling good enough
Because everyone hates a good reason, and a clean break up
Because good and clean makes it hard to be angry
Because sometimes you really need to be angry
Because you cant cure a broken heart in five minutes, you can only lie about your pain tolerance

" You can love someone so much, but you can never love people as much as you'll miss them"
The thing is, that in the morning, I had never felt so empty before, I was not aware I could miss him that much
I think it was better this way, but I think it was worse too

The thing is, I missed out on all the possibilities, well we both did, but I care more
The thing is, It hurts because it mattered
The thing is, I can only pretend to forget

The thing is, I'm tired
The thing is, I haven't written because of him
The thing is, I've written because of him

The things is that there are too many things to say, and not enough courage
Because I'm a **** liar
Because you're a good friend
Because sometimes ****** things happen
Because sometime you cant always come up with a good reason or even a decent excuse, because thats just how somethings are right now and you cant talk yourself out of feelings
Though you sure can try.
The thing is I know I'll get over it, of course I'll get over it
The thing is I can only put so many things into words
Because this has made my head hurt with metaphors and one liners that he simply does not deserve.
Because it feels like I am busting at the seams with phrases that I've been collecting for weeks.
Because its late
Because I am tired
Because My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations.
Because you and I had a rather small infinity
I could probably write about 5 pages more but my hands are tired and I'm starting to mistake heartbreak for hunger.

All the quotes are by John Green
shout out to the people who get the references, also forgive any and all spelling errors and such.. it is midnight
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Zephyr
Coffee
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Zephyr
I need some type of drug
to wake me up.

Because I can hardly keep my eyes open
let alone figuring out the square root of x minus 78

Walking to and from classes seems like running a marathon
and even standing up is equivalent to lifting 1,000 pounds.

I need coffee
to get through the day
just kidding, coffee doesn't work for me :( but this was fun to write....better then paying attention in math class }:)
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Cameron Godfrey
Five
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Cameron Godfrey
Give me five more minutes of summer
Give me time to prepare
Give me a little more time
I'm not ready yet; I'm scared

Give me five more hours of summer
Give me time to rest
Give me time to be free again
And let me be my best

Give me five more days of summer
A work week that's free of work
Give me an escape
From everything that hurts

Give me five more weeks of summer
Hell, give me fifty-two
Give me time to spend
On me, before I suffer through

Give me five more months of summer
Please, just set me free
Give me five more years of summer
And please, just let me be.
It's still a crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy fourth day of school.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
DG
Why do I get angry all the time?
I don't show it, but I really do have a temper
Is it because I am alone?
Secluded in my home whenever possible?
It the reason my knuckles still have wounds from the last wall I punched
Because I feel like no one understands?
Just a rant...
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Emily Tyler
It was supposed to be fun.

New school, new supplies,
Thin, neon highlighters glowing inside
Vera Bradley backpacks.

Skinny folders assigned to
Pointless subjects,
Which would be fattened
With pointless homework
By the end of the day.

It was supposed to be fun,
And for a little while, I forgot.

I forgot until History.

The new teacher hadn't lived here
Longer than a week,
Which was why he was
Excited
About teaching.

He had on a brand new tie
From Banana Republic
Which was obviously tied
By his wide eyed fiance.

His classroom was bare, as he explained,
"Don't worry,
I ordered posters yesterday."

The teacher wasn't the problem.

The problem was,
Between Richardson
And Roberts,
He still existed.

At least in the school system he did.

"Ashley Paulette?"
"-Here."
"Abby Richardson?"
"-Here."
"Bennett Rill?"

And my life shattered all over again.

The silence felt
Deafening.

Remembering how he wouldn't be there.
Not ever.

"Bennett Rill?"

The teacher was confused, looking around the room
For someone
Who was buried six feet under.
Someone who the teacher might've thought
Was sick, or vacationing.

It was supposed to be fun.
But then I remembered
One of my really good friends, Bennett, died on the last day of school last year. There are more poems about him on my page.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Àŧùl
This is a thought for all the days,
Ponder upon it as the sun stays,
Even if a group of clouds plays...

Darker even than the darkest night,
Thin is the strand holding us tight,
Lighter even than the air so light..

Think of me when you're bothered,
Guess what I must've suggested,
Even as you struggle & get tired.

Think about these golden words,
Those we share & those we don't,
Saying all is something we won't..

Staying happy now in our misery,
When it is to love we're no miserly,
The love potion flows ceaselessly...
My HP Poem #421
©Atul Kaushal
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