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Kaiden Lewis Nov 23
If good is white
And bad is black
Then i am colorblind
YES I KNOW COLOR BLINDNESS DOESNT WORK LIKE THAT..
Valentin Eni Nov 18
I don't recognize it anymore,
I can't decipher it from the words,
From the letters black as lice.
Its wings are broken,
its body was torn and frayed,
Its face is stretched like a puddle on the asphalt.

It's broken into pieces,
Tangled and knotted,
And ugly.
And it stinks, indeed, it reeks...
Of printer's ink
And yellowed paper,
Moldy
And damp.

It's not mine anymore,
I don't recognize it,
It's a stranger to me,
It's mute.

And it can only cough,
And whimper,
And rattle,
And wheeze,
And howl,
And scream,

That it wants to be read,
That it wants to be seen,
Wants to be heard,
Wants to be known,

Felt, grieved, lived, loved.
Whispered, shouted, but most of all:
Sung,
And reread and recited...

And I think
That it might have remained
A beautiful
Unwritten poem.
The poem reflects on loss and disconnection with creation. The author no longer recognizes the poem, describing it as broken, lifeless, and foreign. It’s portrayed as something that once held potential but is now flawed and decaying, longing desperately to be noticed, understood, and loved.

The final lines express regret, suggesting that it might have been more beautiful if it had never been written, leaving readers with a bittersweet reflection on creativity and the unattainable perfection of unfulfilled ideas.
Athenkosi Nov 12
Silence our opinions
Popularity is the main currency
Freedom of thought is a unfulfilled vacany
Everybody takes offense, a generation which avoids harsh truths. Soft to the core, but yet every tattooed punk is apparently hard-core. You fear criticism but  you are the worst hypocrite.
Rome burns while cats want to be dogs while owls yearn to be eagle's.  
Mellininated and proud. Afro centric is my state of mind. Black supremacy till I'm ashes.  ..... Black man you are own your own.✊️
We out here
As I stand — in the stillness of the night, buried in
contemplation, a tombstone looms above my head piercing
into an idea, with these horns; to charge directly at vivid
imagination. Shrouded in the night’s dead darkness; the
only colours that dance around are the deep, dark hues
that cling to my black horns – tainted.

Formless creatures haunting the silhouettes of all dreams
their fragmented forms concealing hidden depths and
buried truths — echoes of old traumas from the days of
youth, a troubled youth, long neglected – abused.

The more these horns are trimmed, the longer they seem
to stretch – spiralling directly into my vision; all I
perceive is darkness.
Elina T Rose Nov 6
in a world of blue and purple, I bled for the shade of red
in a world of blue and purple, I made everything black
what I touch dies, and my love always lacks
amber was the fire of your heart, and gray was my vision
hurt was what I inflicted in it, I learned from the bests so I had precision
your fire burned out when my lies kicked in
my vision cleared only when your eyes died within
pale was the color of my skin but warmer with your kiss
rose were my lips but cold my half truths, I brought shame into this
drinks in the glasses, but everything else was spilled
flowers bloomed, and flowers were killed
spring was the dawn, but I made leaves fall down

spring was the dawn, but fall was the season
I was the reason I was the reason
frost was the color, and what came after the storm
cold was the outside, but your hands used to make it warm

mauve was the world before I even drowned in my crimson blood sea
teal was my heart just like the skies before I made your sun sink

in a world of blue and purple, you made everything heal
in a world of blue and purple, you bled for my sake
your touch nourished, while all I did caused heartache
you made it four seasons while I was stuck in one
fall was the season, but spring was the dawn
lilac was the sunset before indigo bled into the day
night was moonless, and stars kept fading away
scarlet was the fire I set in your heart
ashes, what was left, and smokes clouded a new start
tears flowed in, and salt streams burned all the roots
died all the emerald lands, we had to call truce
spring was the dawn, rain pouring down

spring was the dawn, but fall the season
I was the reason I was the reason
drought was what came after the sapphire seas dried
cracked were my lips, after your ruby flames died

violet was the world before I even drained myself of my carmine blood
teal was my heart just like the seas that used to flood.
23/12/2023
briefly inspired by taylor swift (folklore, evermore)
wrote this about feeling destructive...
I was a Moon in a dark abyss
Wandering alone in tormented solace
As aimlessly as a fish in bowl
Glumly glad within my alien abode

In a spur _ you appeared from Nowhere
A Blackhole pulling me towards its angelic snare
Rearranging the space time fabric

To a whole new world
mystifying yet aesthetic

And I couldn't resist, for that Benignity
set my heart ablazed _
filled its Valence shell
Entwined with you I will step in eternity soon
Hoping, your floral rugs bear stars and moons..!!
These ole' Ghetto streets
You got beef??
then bring the heat,
Don't make this an issue,
I might just diss you,
When You living in the hood, and
you wish a n** Would!!
Aye, you good???
Everything's Aiight!!!
Aye, Ya'll cool???
Yeah we tight???,
Trash all over the place,
it's just a sin and
a shame it's such a disgrace,
Get outta my face, or
Imma put you in your place,
Don't make a sound,
not even a peep,
Can't keep your mouth shut,
then take several seats,
It's about to go down,
IN THESE OLE' GHETTO STREETS!!!


B.R.
Date: 10/29/2024
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