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Lance Remir Jun 26
What's the point of getting stronger

When I break down so easily over you
The real question may not be,
"Who's good and who's bad?"
It may be,

Who's trying to save the world,
Who's mislead?

So when we look upon the mess that we live in,
Consider it,
Who's trying to save this world,
Who's manipulated by it?
Ayla Grey May 21
Hidden truth buried deep inside
Feelings weren't enough
Bottled emotion like cigarette smoke
Fuming until you cough

Hiding inside a masquerade
Hoping to fit the mold
Until one day your bow breaks
And your crinkled truth unfolds

Fake happy till the smile fades
Until the once blue sky turns gray
And you wish one day it'll be over
The world will know you're gay
alex May 20
I’m bored now.
I don’t want the calm before the storm
I want the storm,
right now.

break me,
burn me,
do whatever,
I’m ready.
I crave the storm that makes me feel alive again
MetaVerse May 6
.

min     mal
         i
pr          sm

Those who stand to break you,
You mustn't let take you,
Drag you down in their ***** lake,
Just don't break.
Kezexxe Apr 7
Hearts break and break, mentally,
And they can heal,
But if a heart is broken physically,
They cant.
Shelly Mar 13
I just wanna be free
Free from the misery

My walls are high
No one can reach me

Flying high above the mountains
Above all those in misery

I'm gone with the wind
Im gonna be free
Free from all the misery

- Shelly Ramos
Samuel Feb 26
Bejeweled, the peacock in her feathery glory,
Enchants each passerby to tell her story.
Her way with words, allures them all,
She gleams with pride; she stands tall.

A woodpecker, wears its crimson crown,
Its artistry turns down a frown.
Builds his home, upon a log,
Persists through rain or fog.

Peacock teaches the woodpecker its wicked game,
Gives the woodpecker a taste of fame.
Woodpecker works day and night,
Threatens the peacock, gives her a fright.

The woodpecker, praised for his newfound grace,
Notices the peacock, disdain on her face.
He asks her softly  , the cause of her dismay,
Her voice cold and dead, begins to say.

“Your craft is weak, yet you think it’s great?
You still have time, it’s not to late.
If I see it again, it'll drive me mad,
Oh, honey! Its the truth, aren’t they all bad?”

Woodpecker stunned, as she keeps saying more,
Feels his crown fall on the floor.
With care for his pride,
He ponders and delves into a stride.

He says-
“Insecurity buried deep—that’s fine.
But why must you extinguish your friends’ shine.”
Speaking less but saying more,
He flies off to a better shore.
This poem is actually about me. I started writing because of my cousin, but over time, she started criticizing my work so much that it made me feel uncomfortable. Eventually, she just straight-up insulted me, which really got to me. It made me feel awful, so for my own peace of mind, I decided to stop talking to her.
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