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Alan S Bailey Aug 2022
Bastiana as me, being this lady truly that you see,
Within my solemn being, I am a love-a living dream.

You can not keep me from the light,
I am always a part of life, though not in plain sight.

Have a few or two lily's and put them aside,
I give this to the well and cast the spell-bide my time.

I tried the name Sebastian on for size, no lie,
But found myself in love with Bastiana, I can't deny.

Bastiana as me, I know I'm Alan to some degree,
But when all is frozen in time-don't you know?
My love, Bastiana...why this is the one true me.
My love, it's this one and only name, the real me!

Why oh why do I keep on trying to deny...?

Bastiana means revered, by the by. Hehe
John McCafferty Sep 2020
Paddle amongst the dark
Masked shadows clasped in sharp arches
Explore your flaws to experience more
Question conceit as preachers reach deep
Shots drawn before dawn
Chasing bright sunlight gilded aside
Brought up to rise again
Our lives repeatedly warned of descent
Air still warm as we sit forlorned
Sleight of hand connections tight
Observe the signs confined in mind
Silent whispers guided from behind
Focused awe channels through us all
Do we care to share energy
Too few view the transference of form
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Jenny Moran Nov 2019
it’s a trial you know,
standing by your side.
it’s a test of my strength,
my courage, my pride.
do I want to give up?
give up in us?
what us?
it never existed
it was all in my head
i let myself think there was a
meaning behind the bed.
but you were my demon
sitting deep in the dark
waiting to pounce
waiting for that spark
you took my feelings and shoved them aside
just because you were worried about you
and your pride
I am not significant enough
for you to spend your thoughts on
well yeah, that’s pretty rough
Anastasia Jun 2019
is it love
if you pull me aside
to a room
to be alone
and play your song
on your phone
and ask me to help you
write a poem
and you show me
all the stupid
you can do
with your
is this love or am i just lying to myself
early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
   gently lapping along a weir
thumb and fore finger
   of right hand would peal back,

   (via diagonally flippant motion
   asper calendar
   representing progression of time)
   gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)

revealing the next month at lightspeed
   vis a vis tempus fugit galloping tear
thy head immediately lost hirsute thickness,
   i starkly share

male or female pattern baldness
    extant along
   Harris genealogical trunk line rare
yet divulging distress
   about limp decreasing strands
   sends shivers along spine,

   gloomy feeling linkedin
   with old fashioned meaning of queer
and perchance tis foolhardy
   as reeding this Samson night issue must ap pear

tis unstoppable inching closer toward
   as mortality gets near
youthful robustness fades
   replaced by senescence mere
   really ambling along tragicomic stream,

   one evinces gargoyles mockingly leer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
   in conjunction dreams fraught
   with frightful haunting monsters jeer
ring sound reverberating hair
splitting decibel jamming cranial gear

aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
   blond, brown, gold, et cetera locks mud dear.
E Townsend Aug 2016
You sold me a false dream. You told me that I could make it home after I graduated. High school. College. I’m still ******* here. I told you that I was a failure, I failed at achieving my dream of finally escaping hell. Everyone else got their form of happiness. My turn will never arrive.
You told me that the future would be a happy time, but when I thought of the future ten years ago, I didn't think I would still feel like this.
You told me that people loved me, but they never showed it. No one put in as much effort into the relationship as I did. It was always me who responded first, initiated the conversation, sent reminders that hey, I guess we’re still friends, even though you don't act like it.
You forgot that I did not work well with the routine of muttering in my head, “I’m fine, just relax and breathe.” You told me that I needed to make the most of where I was, which was like forcing a fish to live on land and expecting them to breathe.
You told me that I moved on, and then I didn't, and then I did. Quit playing games.
You told me that it was okay to tell that guy extremely intimate details, but I ended up disappointed.
You told me to assume that someone I loved would be just as willing to love me fiercely in return. You told me that someone special will come along. Where are they?
You told me that I have to make everyone in my family happy, but everyone has different expectations and I’m struggling to fulfill one person’s wishes without upsetting the other.
You told me I need to go out more, accept invitations to attend some concert in Dallas, or hang out at her house for New Year’s Eve. I hate going out.
You told me to pretend that I was in a cliché high school movie at a party and try to flirt with a guy. He didn't like me. He was more interested in my brother.
You told me that no one cared how badly I presented my speech in my last Spanish class, but I felt everyone’s pity cutting into my mouth.
You told me that my soul is the one thing I can’t compromise, but it’s already shattered into irreparable fragments.
You told me that people would admire the way I loved sunsets, the lights on the streets after dark, the small things. No one has told me that they noticed my habits.

I placed myself back into my body and walked away from the mirror.
You keep saying everything's fine,
But honestly, I don't believe you.

I've been betrayed over and over again,
And set aside by those whom I thought friends.
I've been judged for being me;
and for wanting company.
I've changed my ways and habits to be to their likeness. They, in turn, spit in my face.

I've been forgotten by those whom I thought of as equals, as true friends, maybe even family.
And yet I'm here thinking about those who have wronged me, asking myself what I did to deserve this.

I've been declared guilty, guilty by association. Bound to be forgotten and never spoken to.

And all of this because I was innocently honest about one tiny thing,
That turned out to be massive in the eyes of mummy's boy.
Winter Green Feb 2015
I was just an obsession to you
A hobby, a toy
That you could play with one day
exploit all of its wonders
see what it could give to you
And the next day just casually toss in a shadowy attic
To be forgotten
To be found far in the future
Old, and dusty
Not broken, just dark from disuse
and abandonment

This is what you thought of me
This is how you treated me
Like a novelty, a child's toy
I can't believe I fell for your casual ways
The way you made me feel special
But I was never special
I was just another brief obsession of yours
A curiosity
I drew your attention, piqued your interest
But now you've found a new toy to play with
And I'm left here collecting dust
This is my first poem ever and I'm new to writing poetry. Any advice is appreciated.
I allways try to care, at the wrong time
I'm trying to be there, but you're stopping me

I'm just trying to help

I will offer you hugs to make you feel a little bit better, but you don't pay attention

I'm just trying to help

Why should I even bother anymore
All you do is push me down
All you do is push me aside

I'm just trying to help
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