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The road to expertise first means that only one concept must be right to prove a solution.
Like leading a child on its way.
daisha Mar 23
the morning she puts a smile on her face .
so nobody can see the pain she face .

consuming , absorbing , mind numbing .
one day she hopes that somebody is coming .
to pull her out of the suffocating pain .
that she s fighting everyday .

but once again she wake up and up a new smile on her face .
Theanm Ankh Mar 21
I just think
You might have not
What I meant to say
In the way I said it
Written very late at night
grave Mar 10
i can't write poetry
the words don't fit
i sit here worried, contemplating
over all the rules & ****.

others' voices can be really loud
& it's hard to hear myself over the crowd,
but in the end, i have to make this art
for me.
i don't know a lot about poetry but it feels like it could be a helpful form of expressing myself. i hope someone else can find this helpful too.
Giovanna Jul 2020
Is it wrong to be happy when in pain?
No efforts ‘to be’ go in vain.
When you know what the mighty holds for you,
it is the best thing to do.
It’s just that the pain feels so real.
Misery is in the open air site,
and happiness is like all the treasure locked inside.
All the words hurt more than a bite.
What weighs upon when I smile, is not delight.
why does sadness feel more real?
Giovanna Jul 2020
Buddies since birth.
Supposed to be the star of the north.
My playmate, my entertainer, my protector.
Like a human lie detector.
The same one face.
The other hard to trace.
Your evil on the rise.
Visible through your nasty eyes.
Your hands all over me.
Push and pull me in like a sea.
Cutting deep into my soul.
Gave me another set of secrets to hold.
All that you should have been was an illusion.
I regret calling you my cousin.
Trust NONE
Giovanna Jul 2020
In this house so big,
where mammoth appears miniature as a twig,
is occupied by my family lil wacky,
and the members lil shabby.

Fancy dress is a quotidian.
And try to talk in lydian.

I love being with them.
Treat me as a rare gem.

We spend time ample.
But they leave me alone in a temple.

Few times their pretend cuts look real,
like denying to heal.

Forever with me.
But a visiter and no guarantee.

People are weirdly overwhelmed by sentiments,
and ask me how am i doing since the car accident.
Do you also forget some incidents but the gones are alive?
Giovanna Jun 2020
In my dream bubble,
all the glee is filterable.
No words said.
The blues with the reds,
on a wide spread.
As the clock strikes my happy hour,
there is a prey of my power.
I stand strong over the killed,
with a thirst unfulfilled.
When I said glee could be sieved,
it was misery I picked.
Do u have a thirst like mine?
The War Pen Jun 2020
To some your voice can melt the ice, to others it bites like mice - slowly not to finish but to entice, I can't advise, all I can do is to **** myself away if am the vice.

I wish I could sing like you - You, you move a down soul new, people like you are few, if only he knew, he wouldn't make the same mistake I did before I grew.

You want me to sing?, In B-flat, like what? I only mew like a cat, I sing very low keys always on the ground like a mat, I usually ask myself - my talent, where are you at?, It always answers - just don't excite yourself - cause that which you desire, are nothing like that.
Instead of singing Maybe I will play dart, or *** for ****, like Tom and Jerry the Rat.

The War Pen!
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