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Rezium Jul 2018
Even though a lion is trained to keep it's mouth shut, it doesn't mean it can't learn around it.
Stardust has seen and tried to stop me clean of these things that could be.

That blackhole won't solve anything,
Neither will exploding or imploding myself to wits ends.
So let me brief you just this once so listen good and listen well.

Like the lion, find your pack.
No matter how much the storms rain down hell, find a way to dispel.
Write these records, create a contraption to annoy the rains away.
But if there's nothing you can do, and trust me I know cause it's something we've all been through, go to shelter and let the damage be done.

Tomorrow we begin a new, and work around it with your crew, they may know what to do.
It's an experience we all handle.
It's a long life battle.

But at least we're not alone.
If you ever need to talk, comment me and we can handle it. This life is hard be we can beat it together.
Arthur Habsburg Jul 2018
All land begins
underneath these feet:
a merry makebelieve.

Jump
and catch a glimpse of Arabia
in red,
Birkenhead
in yellowish-grey,
Berlin's fading rainbow..
all lacking in depth like
floaters,
like foreign pain,
like your very first birthday.

Don't they?

Spend days in suspension,

don't you?

Well, look around!
You see ahead
and back
are much the same
when all is round.
And all IS round!
Unless of course,
you're
on the ground
where a single wave can
****.

Doubtless fun,
boundless thrill, all
but for a price!
Here
even cloudy sunsets imply
sacrifice.
And at nights
perfect darkness never dwells,
Some devilry always tells the time
in mocking ways:
Jump
and you're on holidays,
divorced from all necessity,
sleeping in the sun
for days an altogether different
beast,
electrified,
with sandbagged veins.

At least not dead,
I hear you say.
How cute..
Alas! the price you pay for
being oh so futile is per se
a snide;
So pick your cherries and throw them
in that tide!
You know the lights in this harbour never return
in a straight line
May craft and the shimmering power
not let you be
the fog in the rye,
or the rock's inside.

You are round and everything
is your equal.
So consider your battles well.
Madison Jul 2018
The Weapons You Wield
Though they never touched my body,
Broke my skin,
Slashed at my flesh.

They tore at my heart,
Ripped up my mind,
Spilt my tears.

The pain is real.
The weapons you used are not the kind of war,
but the unkind words tinting my soul.
I lost the battle.
I intend to win the war.
-Madison Smith
Dedicated to my mother.
Haruharu Jul 2018
I lied.

I am afraid, like for real.

The empty promises from the past are haunting me.

Destroying this.

Biting my tounge, to not question.

A constant battle in my head.

The insecurities are there to remind me.

That no one ever stayed..
austin Jul 2018
One more day is fading away
as we ride this bus to the city
The storm is coming nearer now
And your bliss will turn to tears

We've almost reached our destination
Countless parachutes in the sky
These mosquitoes are swarming
before your eyes,
Just a moment's time til someone dies

The skies are getting darker now
Not a shard of light in this room
You'd better make good choices now
Or meet your impending doom

I hear your steps from the other room
And I'm already locked and loaded
You'd better get on running now
Or I'll destroy what's left of you

I walk upstairs to higher ground
and hear your cowardly whines,
I look in the eyes of my colleague
And said don't move, this **** is mine

I've made my way to my snipers' nest
and my eyes are set to ****
I've got my sights on your head right now
To pull the trigger, you know I will
This may or may not be a Fortnite inspired poem that I wrote for fun, lol
Save your gravity
For the fragile bones
That tread your mountainous rock

I will not fall again.

That slippage comes too quick
When weak men crawl
Like ants upon your surface

I am the fallen angel
Whose wings were too burdened
By the golden kiss of truth

I have fallen to this world
To this mountain
To this cliffside coffin

I have torn from the stone
A house and a life and a lover
I have risen beyond the curse that binds me

And I will not fall again.
forestfaith Jul 2018
Suicide.
Doesn't mean this person has mental illness.
Suicide.
Doesn't mean we Christians doesn't have suicidal thoughts too sometimes.
Suicide.
Doesn't mean this person is weak.
Suicide.
Doesn't mean they suffer from depression.
Suicide.
The devil tempted Jesus with suicide.
Suicide.
Understand it better please.
Suicide.
You are not alone.
Keep fighting!
We would fight with you this battle!
I am free to listen!
faa Jun 2018
A row of shoes were lined up,
Ready to be slipped on
Each pair unique, telling tales
It’s owner’s burden buried deep
their sufferings carried on

One of the pairs horribly reeked
Of long hours under the sun
Soaked with sweat and tears
That leaked from it’s owner’s eyes
And seeped through the owner’s toes
Exploitation and oppression
Tattered and slipper strings snapped
Which brings into question
Can we dare walk in those shoes?

Another pair was rather extravagant
Bejewelled, dazzling with rubies
The aroma of vanilla spreading
Through the radiant effervescence
Yet it held a vibe so ominous
Perhaps emitting unhappiness
From the riches that brought no glee
Which brings into question
Can we dare walk in those shoes?

Slipping your feet into a pair
crawling, walking or sprinting
Empathising in their shoes
Shredded from sufferings
Or stitched with threads of hope
What truly matters in those shoes
Is to understand with compassion
Gaining a glimpse of their wars
To interpret, understand and empathise
With “Verstehen” we can learn
And share our battle scars
Then perhaps, we can accept ourselves
And each other in solace
so let us ask ourselves, once again;
Can we dare step into their shoes?
"Verstehen" is a term coined by Sociologist Max Weber loosely characterized by three words; "interpret, understand and empathize", basically walking in someone else's shoes to understand them better. this poem was inspired by this very concept
Rose Jun 2018
I rubbed the gum wrapper so long my fingers turned green,
as pieces of tin foil fell like dust on this tattered pillow.
i sat obediently calm and quietly observant,
while you judged me for the amount of days i’ve lived
not considering the quality of those days.

I drove home screaming to melodies lost on me,
as the night air whipped my hair into tangles of hurt,
asking what plan He has for a soul like mine,
for no matter where i go, there simply isn’t a place for me.

It’s never a question of smiles gained or looks given,
but rather, the ways i can bend and form to ideas,
and how easily i can lie while waiting for the curtain to drop.
i can't conquer every battle and when i've lost i fall hard. this is for those who might have lost me, if they don't fix the crumbling path.
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