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I inhale the air
that escapes from your tongue
when you call my name.
Maria Etre Feb 4
When was the last time
you called to show
your
emotions?
Well, you're swallowed by isolation,

And you call it 'peace'.
kathryn anne Feb 2
no one listens
when i say it hurts
i dont know the people
who will read these words

you pick up
after 42 missed calls
and all the sudden "i need you"
means nothing at all
my hands wont stop shaking. my stomach wont stop aching. my eyes cant stop the tears and my head cant stop the fears.

help me please.
it hurts.
Johnny walker Jan 31
I Can't wait for the buds to return to the trees snowdrops and daffodils and the warmth of the
sun
Birds returning back here from Africa to sing their morning wake up
call to build their nests to raise
feed their young oh how I long for the returning summer to put away the winter clothes
For now, I'll sleep away the
winter days to wake again
on that beautiful first spring morning
Awaiting the buds to reappear the trees snow drops daffodils
the first day of spring birds singing their wake up call
A single pen could make a library, setting every book apart.
It can fill a museum, creating inky works of art.
One pen may right the most important letter, to a lover far away.
A pen signed in our country’s will, forever here to stay.
Ink inscribed the world’s religions, from the devil and the divine.
Preserved our children’s fairytales, some cruel and some kind
Still calculating answers to the unknown, we can only hope to be right
And sketched plans for the planes that helped us take flight
A pen wrote this poem, this poet now shares with you
Who hands you a pen, so what will you do?
LadyRavenhill 2019
Recently I tell myself
I'm putting this love on hold
It sounds easier than giving up
Or moving on from a love untold
It sounds indefinite yet not
I'm neither trapped or controlled
To stay or leave when parts of me
Are still divided to uphold
If in 10 years I still love you
Or forget this love I know
I hope to be content, in love
To wherever this heart may go
LolaPark Jan 25
How do I find it?
the way home seems so hard.
walk over mountains,
hope the mountains won't collapse.
what day is today?
the day I meet my chance...
the chances are, I don't know how
far I can walk

I know the trees talk
              the trees talk
they call my name so clear and proud
what do they say when I'm not around?

Find me a willow tree
so I can rest my head
when the morning breaks
hope to find my bed instead
what day is today?
the day I find my place
but the chances are, I don't know how far
I can walk

I know the trees talk
              the trees talk
I wonder if they'll answer if I ask
Don't leave here
fruits may be poison
don't leave me here
the way home is what I seek
    Find me a house with the lights on
                                  with the food warm
                                  with the bed firm
    Find me a house with the clock on
                                  compass north
               So I can find my way home.
Paras Bajaj Jan 24
Broken friendships are hard to fix
when the distance only gets longer.
I used to have a best-friend
who have become a stranger.

Broken friendships are hard to fix
when only silence speaks it all.
I used to have a best-friend
who did not even care to call.

Broken friendships are hard to fix
when priorities aren’t in equal proportion.
I used to have a best-friend
who thought of me as an option.

Broken friendships are hard to fix
when your everything is hurt.
I used to have a best-friend
who crushed me in the dirt.

Broken friendships are hard to fix
when you get tears while writing this.
I used to have a best-friend
the only thing in life that I would ever miss.

—-Poetry by Paras.
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