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Anggita 3d
I appeared that one random day some years ago when the stars were galloping.

since then each step I take picturesque the clip I've been rolling.

I remember that day when mom told me that to live was to encounter a blessing and struggling was the way we inherit a trophy for generations that lived.

I was deceived by the unrealistic heroism of many martyrs who died before me.

in fact, the spotlights were not meant for me as I expected. fate put me far removed from any truth I’ve worshiped.

some days I move in urge and fly very high. I heal my wounds and forgive people who randomly get me to taunt.

some days I scream without words and get drowned in my own nightmares. I drop death thinking of any chance to collect my own mythical strikes.

after all, I still reopen my eyes to a bizarre sight; I wonder if it is the answer to all the prayers I've murmured in my solemn nights

or perhaps it is just the doom I've been daydreaming about all the time.

of the truths spoken and the marks of my barefoot steps, I pledge for an eternal gaiety. And a place of my own kind.
Mark Wanless Jun 6
an unrepentant poet
walks among the world
seeing and not believing
anything perceived

he dreams of inconsistent
anomalies of existanse
sees to the end of time
in imaginary universe

and no one says a word

the story begins in this sentence
and ends when you stop reading
you are the creator of all that will be

the door opened and you were born
did you knock or just drop into
it does not matter you are here now

male or female or something else
life was needed and you became it
walk if you can is a metaphor

the world is but a reflex
and dreams are made by god small g
a mess of confusion is it's problem
What would I do
If I could live this life again?
What would I do?
What would I say?
Who would I be?
Not much.
Not much.
I would be me
I would be a new born baby
i would be a new born baby
Leocardo Reis Jul 2021
Above all things,
I know bitterness
because I was born
without having been asked.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2021
One dies one born
has one forgot
life is not gone?
One comes opens
a caged bird's door
eye on for
a new destination
life goes on!
Àŧùl May 2021
I survived a life-threatening,
Coma-inducing & memory-debilating
High-speed road accident in May ‘10.
I survived COVID12,
The SARS-COV12.
Now I even survived COVID19.
I, howsoever, know what I am.
I am a mortal. Perishable.
My HP Poem #1929
©Atul Kaushal
I write sometimes.
I read sometimes.
The day is going to be well.
But I feel I am always broken in many unspoken words.
Many poems were written.
Many feelings were poured in many cups of the day I spent too much.
They said, you are overthinking to yourself.
They said, you let more anxiety fill your brain.
I said, maybe this is the last time I will do.
Maybe I will forget the past and hope everyting is going to be fast.
I write sometimes.
I read sometimes.
Everyday I get I always heal myself.
Maybe I was born.
Again.
And again.
And maybe,
I will die everyday too.
Indonesia, 18th April 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
There is no poetry that will stop being written because every day a young poet is born and love is born every day.
Indonesia, 11th April 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Maria Mitea Apr 2021
our dying kiss
two babies were born
with flying wings
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Throw me to sea
A message in a bottle
See where I wash up
I was born to be free

Spirit raised by coyotes
I spend my nights howling at the moon

I will come back here one day
For now my roots are short so I plant myself wherever the wind carries me
Bloom in any soil

My heart guiding the way
I try to be adaptable but it has taken me a long time and I still have a lot to learn but I try my best every day!
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