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Lady Ravenhill Nov 2018
I had always been invisible 
Like that first blank page in a novel
Passed over and forgotten as nothing at all

You have made me into something more
A beauty you found inside soaking through
As ink through my thin paper facade
That you drew out and alined
Making me into your work of art

Our eyes met in the long silences
as the lines between us we're inked
Not only by needles but by sparks
A lit match burns so hot
In it's short and glorious life

Now that I have your mark in my skin
They will stop and stare in wonder
But I finally do not need to be seen
© LadyRavenhill 2018
every time a woman met her husband


looked at his eyes and stayed for a word


he didn't say it he as he has got tired


he went asleep without saying that word


except good night and morning may be good


the woman was pretty ,the woman was youth


the woman wanted to be heard, she wanted to be fold


when she went a walk , one comes along


he was a strange, he had bad heart


his heart fill of hate ,his heart like an art


extracting by devil extracting by hard


now the angel went away and the devil brought


the strange went in hurry and he looked


at her face with only big smile


he said to her one, two ,three, all words


how attractive are you? Why aren't you touched?


How are you walking on foot? you must ride!


Inexpensive car ,or high rank plane in its ride?


If they were not, you must ride


A good horse spread wide


If it was not that, you must ride


A strong camel wearing a beautiful dress


Its colors gain from your cheeks red in appearance


And green as yours ,the shinning of your eyes


And yellow in above as your hair colors


If it was not their, you must ride


A man who carried you without any pain


He can traveled with you , felt with gain


Happy ,strong, eager and you would be his woman


Come with me and you would be heard another


The woman lost her mind , the woman appeared another


Woman had not seen, a strange in her thought


As she heard what she wanted for time. She went blind


She obeyed him and let him ride


They took his car ,it was not unlike
every woman wanted to be folded
Anya Sep 2018
They’re cheesy
Some of my poems I know
An imitation
Of ideas used to the point of being frayed
Tattered and in holes
No longer appealing
Until I take them
And give them a shiny new cover
Then they’re attractive...
To some
Who need the idea repeated to them
Or to those who truly appreciate poetry for its function as a medium
Through which ideas, old and new, are transmitted in
Attractive ways
So maybe it’s really the reader
What they
Need
Want
And see
Anya Sep 2018
There is a fundamental difference
between the peacock and the butterfly
Both are beautiful
Both are deserving
But when it comes down to it
One struts proudly
while the other...
quietly flutters away
Stephen Star Aug 2018
Inject me with silicone,
**** out the fat,
work out the abs,
form the muscle.

stable the dollar bills into my skin,
thread my eyebrows with diamonds,
dress me in Gucci,
Lather me in jewels.

Photoshop my face,
plaster it in make up,
make me look handsome,
make me look pretty,
make me look beautiful.

Dye my hair every color of the rainbow,
take out my heart and replace it with
a music box that plays your favorite song.

Am I enough for you now?
Do you see my light now?
Do you see me now?
Am I enough for you now?
Will you finally love me?

What else am I missing my love?
I’ll add it all, just stay with me.
Here is another poem. Right after I just posted another poem? I know crazy but this one I was super inspired to write and I felt like sharing... right now.
Have a great day!
nish Jul 2018
character development is truly amazing
every point of view, is constantly changing
and i have this habit; immensely annoying
of falling in love, with love

suddenly, i notice what she doesn't see (yet)
together we ridiculed him
too short, not my type
i've know him my whole life!
but suddenly
his shoulders; are they broader?
and that voice, its much deeper
stance gotten wider, masculine
more attractive.

this is unquestionably unacceptable
emotional whiplash
how did his eyes get more golden
no,
its just how the sun hits them
we never saw it like this before
a whole new perspective
this isn't healthy

he's defensive, possessive
hard headed and difficult
but
he looks at her differently
how does she not see it?
how did i not see it??
its more tender and caring
dare i say loving

character development
the bane of my existence.
just a silly poem about how much I love shipping characters. This was inspired by my re-watching of "Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood". The scene where Winry and Ed are arguing in her room. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading :)
Jason Drury Jul 2018
Another being,
fresh with blood.
Pale with dark black circles.
Fills my sight,
every rebirth of gold.
It's even there,
during its death.
Its subtle whispers,
telling of truths.
Truths I know,
in heart and betrayal.
Pester and fester,
poke if you will.
Not even time,
grays your message.
“I know”,
with force I scream.
“I know”,
I sing.
Look away at the wall,
“breath”.
Open my eyes,
there you are…
In your vile prison,
reflecting flawed detail.
Who are you?
the being in there.
Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD): Affects 1 in 50 people.
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