Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
What is depression
Is it a pinch of salt
Or is it a pinch of sugar
Let me know
Cause I have given up
In being showed
With Ingredients made from my own
So please
Let me know
Believe me as I stay
Unbroken and lost from all grace
As fighters embark on what is all faith
Untouched by hurt that molded my heart
Believe me as I stay.
Unwilling to beg for love from peers and liars
No matter the lost I may face each day
Believe me
For every woman I grow into
Has loved unkindly the role she plays
And further the whistle I blow
The louder my role goes.
Believe me as I stay
For origins no longer confess our sins
And contention stays in our will.
Keiri Jul 2019
Faking beliefs to believe in the fake.
For the real is way to real.
I still don't want to awake.
I'll imagine I've got a tastier meal.

Be strong, I say, don't give in.
For it will be for the wrong reason.
Spaghetti, potatoes, peas, please don't sin.
Steak or stew or mussles with season.

Scones, soup, browney with a liquid core.
Or rather think of a good baked fish.
Don't, just don't think of him anymore.
Try to replace him with your favorite dish.

I can' give in, I can't give up.
It won't be good if I drink the same cup.
Again and again it's a cup with a crack.
And all my sweet cocoa will flee right back.

I keep thinking, is this right?
I can't tell right from wrong in my blurred sight.
It's bad to go back, so just go on forth.
But my eyes slip back, like a compass needle north.

I need to hold myself, faults won't do me good.
I'll just have to stop my thinking with even more food.
It's a similar hormone triggered, I will feel the same.
What am I? Will I rather be fat again to spare me of the pain?

Why am I weak, it's such a one way to think.
But what else to do when my heart's about to sink.
Pop in my head, there he is again.
Chocolate, chicken breast, bread full of grain.

Don't think, just don't think at all.
Will he be hurt, does he think of me at all.
Is he alright, what is he up to right now.
Does he miss me, and I just wonder how.

Stop it, weakling, you can do better than this.
Orange sauce, porto dressing, ribs as soft as a kiss.
Mac and cheese, ceasar salad, do you think he is alright.
Was I wrong, after all he still wanted to fight.

No, be strong, honeydressing, porkchop, carrot stew.
How many chances did I give him a new?
Stop it, steamed beef, apple cake, am I really mad?
Why did walking away from him feel so bad.

Faking beliefs to believe in the fake.
For the real is way to hard.
I still don't want to believe my mistake.
For I too was wrong at my part.
Hot devil - The name of this poem is named after a yummy casserole dish called 'Hot devil' (it's Dutch) it's with veggies in white sauce, mashed potatoes and roasted meat baked in layers within the casserole in the oven... you should try it, it's really tasty

Here's the recipe for 4 persons
- 12 normal sized potatoes
- 1kg of minced meat
- 1/2 l milk
- 2 tbsp plain flour
- 2 tbsp baking butter
- 1/2 porridge (the white side, small chopped)
- 4 sticks of sellery (small chopped)
- 4 normal sized carrots (small chopped)
- Salt, nutmeg and pepper
- 1 egg yolk
- breadcrumbs

Cook and mash the potatoes. Add the eggyolk in the mashed potatoes, altogether with a little bit of milk and a little bit of butter, mash it all untill it's a moistured paste.  Roast the meat, chop it in small bits while roasting it in the pan. Slice the porridge, sellery and carrot in small pieces. Melt the butter in a *** and add the plain flour, now stir bit by bit the milk in the mixture. Season the white sauce with salt and pepper and nutmeg. Add the veggies in the sauce and boil further for a minute or two. Take a casserole that can stand the heat of the oven. Rub half of the mashed potato in on the bottom. Put the meat on top of it, now put the veggies on top of that layer, fill the last layer with the remaining mashed potatoes and sprinkle the upper layer full with breadcrumbs until you can't see any mashed potatoes underneath the crumbs. Put in the oven (180°C for about 20 minutes).
For so long
I was comfortable with storms,
thunder, lights, dark sky and heavy rains.
Now to me it's only normal
and you
still think it's unlucky
vile.
It would be more good if I name this poem 'perspective' but I am feeling too much confident about this perspective of any two persons that I named it as DEFINITION.
Poetoftheway Nov 2015
The Red Queen Believes!



~~~
The Red Queen,
in her youth,
believed in as many as
six impossible things
before breakfast
~~~
The Old Poet,
in his embered tinder, yellowing days,
believed in as many as
six possible poems
before breakfast
~~~
Nov. 5, 2015
Brooklyn, NY
7:25 pm
Sillo Anderson Jan 2019
Make sure you know whose heart your playing with
Let it not be, ever the devils heart
For she eats such doers not by flesh, but by mind and pain.
Her sorrowful ways are sinful upon man’s rage, delusional enough to trick angelic eyes.
For !
Every woman’s anger are devilish,
But differently towards those alive.
Next page