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My feet are flat, my eyes are bad

It hurts for me to run

"you've checked out fine" the doctor said

"You're in the Army, son!"

It makes no sense

They can't be right

I've even brought a note

"Stop staring son, and shut your mouth"

"'before I cut your throat"!

"But, Captain....sir"

"I'm all 4F"

"There's no way you'll want me"

"Put your arm down, boy, stop salutin'"

"I'm a Sargeant, don't you see?"

"I'm an NCO, a working man"

"Not a pencil pushing geek"

"I own your life, you're mine now boy"

"You long haired, hippy freak"

"I've got ten weeks, to shape you up"

"I'll teach you how to fight"

"Now grab your gear and follow close"

"And don't lose my tail lights"

"Welcome to the forces folks,"

"Now repeat after me"

"I joined up of my own free will"

"I'm here voluntarily"

"Select your bunk and grab some sleep"

"Your new life starts at dawn

"Forget about the world you know"

"Now, all of that is gone."

I hit the bunk and closed my eyes

And was just falling asleep

When in the room I heard a noise

"Wake up, you  long haired creeps!"

I jumped on up, as did we all

Saluting was our mission

"Drop your arms you maggots..now"

and assume the position"

"Push-ups lads, that's how you'll grow

"to respect just why you're here"

"Right now, though I don't smell courage boys"

"Right now, I just smell fear"

It took us almost half the day

To do ten that were right

If this alone would do me in

I'd be dead before tonight.
Carrillo May 2016
We start with the
Crackling record of “Gloomy Sunday”
Playing in the background
The melody goes on slowly
Bare feet moving carefully
to the romantic sound
300 sextillion stars surround us
Intangible moments, we feel
And the intimacy becomes surreal
The taps of raindrops mimicked our excited spirits
We were two melted hearts dancing
in the blazing candlelight
With only a gust of wind
from what seemed like
300 sextillion supernovas
I danced alone
forgetting the place we used to call home
Àŧùl May 2016
Blanked out parts of my old memory,
Meted out an alienating treatment,
Short-term loss of my memory,
Still undergoing treatment,
Collectively boycotting my soul,
They do their duty of progressing,
Irked they are by my apparent ease.

They follow their basic instinct.

I don't mind it for what my life is.

"A Different Kind Of Hell."

I was supposed to have died but I survived and am made to live here.
I avail few special facilities for the differently-abled because of my 42% physical disability after my serious road accident as categorically defined by the Indian medical authorities.

My classmates are a jealous lot who are jealous of my being in the middle of them.

My HP Poem #1069
©Atul Kaushal
Flo Apr 2016
Thinking about the first poems I wrote
Taking my notebook, on a sunny day
A solitude park
Located in a small town Illinois

Feeling the sun on my back
As I scribble the words for a new poem
The melody of birds singing
A small breeze upon my face

Back in the days
Where I was writing for myself
Where I was the only one reading
The visualization of my own thoughts

Poetry is unique
Everyone imagines words a different way
Never let anyone define your skills
Write out your heart, poetry is made for you
Meant for those, who might be to anxious to share their work. Who are self-critical. Poetry is meant for anyone. Who has the right to say what poetry is and what isn't. Take a brief moment and go back to basic and see how everything started. Be bold believe in your skills and keep on writing.
Miabee Mar 2016
I live on the edge
Driving into a cliff in my imagination
Here the game plays
Over and over from one triumph to the next
I regret I forget
Disappointments revive each play
I lose myself
Upon the ledge I had stood and gazed
At the power
But what is the use
When nothing ever stays

We laugh how hollow we are
How nothing matters
while we hold back the tears
We emphasize the importance of
Some distraction
Then we belittle our actions for ones judgement
We play this game
Of desire and destruction
While sinking deeper in numbing of pain
We pretend the world deepends on our play
To hide the fact that we are fading into oblivion
One step at a time
Mikayla Nov 2015
I've always pondered,
What it'd be like to lose,
My heart,
Perhaps I shouldn't.
In one week,
From two yesterdays ago,
You'll be gone,
And with you,
My heart shall go too.
But you'll be so brave,
My little soldier,
Just remember,
To hold my heart dear.
I was born to make a difference
Not to stay stagnant in the indifference
That is the default.
I never saw the point of being the basic
I'm just basic on the essential things
But when it comes for the rest
I'm very advanced
I will make sure the ones repressed will be at a freelance.
Hold your rifles diligently, i'm not calling to arms
Unless their only option is complete harm
We carry our hearts before the onslaught,
For their traps to be caught
Failing in the midst of revival.
The resistance is the greatest outcome humanity can ever create.
Autumn Whipple Oct 2015
i sat in the mirror
watched you all day
say the way the silver called for you to stay
to stare deep into those empty eyes
and waste away
as my narcissist
dead lover you'll stay
leaning down to the waters in quay
to press a kiss on my brow
even knowing i'll soon fade away
i love the story of echo and narcissus. what a basic, basic boy
Barrow Sep 2015
I don't think I've ever despised myself more than I ever have in this very moment.

I let myself crave you,
I let myself fall for you,
I broke for you.

I yearned for you like a small child staring into a candy store-
To look at not to touch-

But, oh, did I touch and did every touch feel like a sudden and overwhelming flame.
A desire so bright that it could light the darkest of hearts.

Too bad it burned your own heart in the process.
I'm sorry, friends, this poem is awful.
Aparna Mar 2013
Sipping tonics on toned bellies.
Elbows soft from jasmine lotions.
White skin painted in deep caramel.

He held his sweaty palms out,
Begging, a penny for his meal.
She kept the dollar for a Starbucks latte.
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