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[Offical Full Poetry]

Wistful,  cheerless,
used  to  be  brave,  
and  fearless. 

Liars,  haters 
have  been  walking,  
around  me  these  days.

Charming,  well  educated, 
that's  who  you  showed  to  me 
before  you  shot  me

I  thought  you 
were  charming.

I  thought  you 
were  well  educated. 

I  thought  you
 needed  me.

It's  all  gone 
when  you  left  me.

I  was  just  looking 
for  some  friends, 
Now;  I'm  only  looking
for the  real  ones.

Couldn't  realize  which 
ones  were  fake  before, 
When  did  hellos  start 
to  be  called  as  goodbyes, 
After  some  while,  I 
know  which  ones  are. 

Couldn't  stand  to  this 
anymore,  faded, 
Feeling  so  alone  in 
this  crowded  room, 
Can't  love  like  this,
it  has  exceeded, 
Feeling  like  I've 
overdosed.  Wasted.

Every  colour  was  taking 
me  back  to  you, 
Every  mark  was  pushing 
me  away  from  you. 

Spring  hasn't  begun  yet.
It  was  not  warm  at  all.

Just  cold  with  sadness, 
darkness  with  secrets,   
strangers  with  lies. 

Charming  strangers 
are  everywhere. 

They've  been  around
for  centuries.

They  look  like 
Venus  or  Mars, 

inside  they're 
like  black  holes.

Pluto  who  I've 
always  been. 

An  outsider?   

no,  no,  no 

A  fighter. 

© Muhammed E. K.  ☾  🅴  ✩
Thank u for reading.
Andrew Rueter Sep 2021
I work on a river bank in the rainforest of an Amazon warehouse
where the torrential downpour of consumerism never subsides
filling the conveyor belt tributaries flowing through the industrial jungle
so commodity pisces can swim to my village at the basin—pack line 2
where the village folk run a benevolent catch and release program
providing bags and boxes for physical deflection and germ prevention
parts, presents, and propaganda all prudently properly packaged
finally released to follow the river to their eighteen wheel hearse
transporting them to a behemoth with an insatiable appetite
it gets a primitive thrill out of being a picky eater
throwing away anything it doesn't want
letting the vultures circle the trash pile
knowing its waste will attract new feeders
salmon swimming upstream thinking they'll become leviathans.
Jean-Rémy Duboc Mar 2021
It's the stuff you don't say
That cuts deepest.

But of course, of course,
Let's keep it professional.

It's every time
your eyes
Glaze over the machine
I operate,
Then me,
Then back to the machine...
And the eyes stay the same.

It's the voice
You put in my head
Dictating not only what I do
But who I have to be.

But of course, of course,
Let's keep it professional.

It's the training videos
Banning scary words like
"Living Wage"
As if life itself couldn't sneak into
The warehouse.

But of course, of course,
Let's keep it professional.
sergiodib Feb 2021
In Xanadu did Whatsoever
a stately pleasure planet decree
Where Amazon, the sacred River run
through Forests, measureless to Man.

And here were trees tall as the sky
and leopards, snakes and
birds of the brightest colours.

But oh! Mankind began to burn the trees,
drill dramatic chasms, build walls and towers
Melt the polar ice and turn the oceans into lifeless seas.

So in this tumult, once,
a sixty nano metre string of RNA came,
invading thousands and thousands of humans
and prophesying the end of our kind.

A vision in a dream then I had:
a simple utopia of rare device.
Could we revive our lost ties with Nature
we would heal our world and soul

And so with voice loud and long,
with flashing eyes and floating hair,
I say: Hey you out there. Beware, beware!
Elena Mustafa Oct 2020
As the
Supper moon
Shines through one of prohodna
Into the cave
The shamaness
Does her ritual
According to the
Moons closeness,
Hello everyone, for those that are still here I'd like to inform you that I have my first poetry book Before It's Too Late published under Amazon Kindle! It features many of my poems here, ones I wrote in the past but not posted and some afterwards of my hiatus here.  To all of those that have supported me since I began my account, thank you very much for the fervent encouragement and being very welcoming. This project is dedicated to all of you.

Much love and thanks,
You can preview/purchase it here at:
Anais Vionet Sep 2020
I’m in LOVE - drunk love,
look stupid love - and I
expect a harsh trial.

A hurricane is
due - the sky is coldly-gray,
and the wind is fierce.

Tech issues have school
on hold and walking is a

Then - the blue gray truck
rounds the corner and I’m hit
with Christmas-like joy.

I LOVE shopping,
like a lush loves drink or a
gambler loves risk.

It’s nigh ******.
How can YOU resist it? Please
- tell me your secret??!!

** Amazon trucks are blue gray =]
shopping.. it's a narcotic for prison world
Nylee Jul 2020
Why am I me?
I had a chance
to turn into many
But why did I get
stuck with me
this version,
there are so many bugs
I am always lagging
Often I freeze midway
I am seldom muted
the voice quality
is so mediocre
the display so
why this me
Anais Vionet Jun 2020
I’m daughtering in place and it’s a full time job.
I'm a posable figurine, like a Barbie for my mom.
She's been shopping in a frenzy, to fill the empty hours.
I think we have an Amazon truck dedicated to our house.
I needed another closet so we took my sister's room
It looks like a Dior outlet-store or maybe King Tut's tomb.
"I think you've gotten carried away," I said to her last night.
Looking at all the loot arranged, she said, "you may be right."
a corona virus isolation poem - with my mom's shopping from boredom
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