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I may not be perfect,but please treat me with respect
I often get rejected as expected,
Believe me, I'm just being me,
I'm stubborn,introvert and fragile,
And that's the thing I can't denie

I used to lie about myself,
That  I don't need anyone's help
However, I'm tired being like this
I just want to be notice,
I want to unmask myself
And show to everyone my true self

I'm afraid to be judge,
But, I don't want to live in grudge,
I want to erase all my worries,
Untie myself to any sad stories
Tomorrow I'll wake up,
Wearing the best make up,
I'll smile and say hi.

I wonder why, should I give it a try?
I might fail ,but it's okay
Let everyone knows that it is your own way of letting yourself to grow in a unique way,

Say thank you, your just being you,
Just continue and learn something new,
That is life full or surprises
Your still blessed ,because you wake up when the sun rises
andTilly Oct 2020
Killian, bells in need
chime like the music box
singing in mist, the fox
makes a good dancing lead

Killian, love’s a deed
just like your helping is
however small in this
stories are made to read

Killian’s precious hands
hugging so slow, so hard
hug more, boy, without that
I might be losing pants

Killian, salutes three
for my three treasures lost
on such note, lovely host
****-me-and make me free
Zack Ripley Jul 2020
if you tell me I'm wrong,
I won't try to change your mind.
I have better things
To do with my time.
And if you think you can find someone
Better for you than me,
Then go. Be free.
I won't try to change your mind.
Because I love with eyes wide open.
Never blind.
Never again.
Tommy Randell Feb 2019
Dance to the music you're given
Your life has not yet been written

Read the poem you're writing
Each line a rhythm of lightning

Play the cards you're dealing
Cast the rhymes with your feelings

Risk all upon a moment of chance
Abandon yourself to the dance

That you are here in Free Fall
And Love & Life are a scrimshaw
Poetry instruction manual
Quin Rosenheart Sep 2018
I'm doing the best I can
With everything I am
But I am always told
They don't give a ****

I try my hardest to succeed
But there is a part of me
That wants to run away
And say I need to be freed

So I pick up my pieces
And stood up tall
I gather myself once more
Recovered from my fall
Kateri glover Jun 2018
Let go
I can’t let go of your beautiful hand
Even though, I’m hurting inside
Can’t shake this feeling I have
Long sleepless nights
Up just thinking
“Why can’t I just let it go and be free?”
Putting a smile on my face is hard
Every day,just thinking about let go
Why am I so afraid?
I feel like if I let go
My life would be in a hole
A deep black hole
Knowing I can’t get out of
Seeing me in the mirror
Saying “who is this?”
I tried and tried to let go
But, I guess it will be here.
Sitting in a dark room in my mind
One day, I’ll let it go.
S C Netha Aug 2017
I only became free
when I lost my sense of grammar
when I forgot how to punctuate
and I didn't follow a rhyme scheme.
I let the letters place themselves
and the words chose themselves
the poetry wrote itself
problems solved themselves
my heart healed itself

I became free when I finally learned
that the poetry is not in perfection
but in the broken words that lie on the page
delivered by my ink-stained hands
from a broken soul and an imperfect heart.
I was only free when I realised
that the broken and imperfect words
made up the perfect poem.
Made up the perfect me.
The perfect you is the you that you are now. Understand this and be free.
Eiram N Aug 2017
There’s a silent invisible in every person
And in you it strains to be read,
Like the creased pages of a forgotten diary
Spilling delicious secrets not meant to be shared

Like you it begs for the unspoken cue
From the boy who would tilt his head and listen,
But until then the mental melody you weave most beautifully
Knows only the tear tracks on your cheeks that glisten.

So on the day your voice slips through the cracks,
The cobweb dreams you bottled up in fear set free
I pray they won’t grow weary with unuse;
I pray he’ll let hear your silent muse,
ring crystal with no apology.
The silent invisible in this poem can be taken to mean different things, hidden secrets, discarded dreams, hopes, memories, troubles, ideals.

I wrote this last week feeling rather contemplative. Always wonder whether the passing of time will yield my share of thoughts to be spoken and who is it that will take the effort to listen to their worth. I guess it’s because I’ve confided in the wrong people in the past which led to poor consequences so now I’m more careful about the people whom I choose to share them with...
Nonetheless, my silent invisible still strains to be heard.
Pepper Dove Jul 2017
Bright lights may blind me
but it isn’t the light I see
slipped back into time,
you see
it wasn’t the right time for me
Daily pains become mundane
it's the insane reframed
within this window pane
shattered glass that
once reflected my inner mass
scattered on the floor
swept into the past
A different point of view
than you, it isn’t new
it's just a clue to how
the tables turn like pages
even though they’re burnned
like sage is
Just a little freestyle, letting the words flow without over thinking it
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