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Gage B Nov 2017
Busy,   so calm
I am surrounded by the feel of
coffee and thunderstorms.

A pluck brings me up
as it resolves to a familiar
Tone.

Cheerful - Lonely - i can’t explain
                                            it is great
For one who feeds off isolation
for another who is surrounded
for I who
struggles
to be
understood…….

A pluck,
an undertone,
     soothing me

C r a s h i n g

                                             and release
Why is being alone sometimes looked down upon?

© Gage B. 2017
Randall Walker Oct 2017
Talking
Always talking
Clock refusing to stop
Haggard chops cop slobber
Saliva’s dripping off

Bored exhalations
Mix
Mental ice
With
Warm air

Mere exposure
Drafting
Numb staring stupor

Sleepy
Waiting to hear
Friday night brew cheers near
Oh! There’s an hour cleared!
Closing on those last four

Funny
Hours I fling so freely
I most adore
AS Nilsen Jul 2017
#59
How do I feel? SAD!
How do I feel it? ALWAYS!
When do I want it to end? NOW!
drljms Apr 2017
I'm walking down the street
with my eyes staring
at the rough road.

Unable to lift my head.
Unable to ease my pain.

I wonder about  a lot of things.
Worsening the claws of sorrow
that continues to envelop me.

But then,

A ray of hope drew near me,
with a voice
so sweet and gentle.

"Cheer up, little one."
My ray of hope said.

Little by little,
I felt a rush of emotion
conquering those painful claws.

With a smile,
I continued to walk down
the path I'm taking.

"Yes," I smiled.
"Life is too precious,
for me to waste it."
For those who need encouragement. :)
Mikayla Smith Feb 2017
When we are born, we are born with fire
Dancing in our souls like madmen,
Feasting on our every desire
And granting every wish you could imagine.

So many times we are told to keep our fire safe.
Don’t let it crackle and waste.
But, what if you do just that?
The light from your world will turn to black
And the fire you now need but took for granted will never come back.

The number of tears you’ve cried will put it out
And the dying sparks will fly about.
Nothing will be left but shattered parts
Of a broken soul wishing to restart.

Save every moment you have alive.
Good ones, bad ones, even “okay” ones will suffice.
Just promise my old and lonely heart
That you won’t reduce yourself to embers dancing in the dark.
One of my favorite poems that I've ever written. Enjoy!
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Rooty toot toot,
Let's all give a hoot
Because today is your birthday!
Hip hip hooray!
It's your special day,
It's a wonderful magical thing to say!

Bring out the cake
Let’s all gather around
And raise up a musical
Birthday song sound.
Yippee hallelujah
It’s time to celebrate
We’re here for you
And we really can’t wait.

Rooty toot toot,
Let's all give a hoot
Because today is your birthday!
Hip hip hooray!
It's your special day,
It's a wonderful magical thing to say!

It’s always a good day
When your birthday begins;
The minute you wake up
Your birthday begins.
And if we are clever enough
And do it the right way
Your birthday continues
At least for several days.

Rooty toot toot,
Let's all give a hoot
Because today is your birthday!
Hip hip hooray!
It's your special day,
It's a wonderful magical thing to say!
The dreary demise
of my somber past
will not be mourned
But, will be a vivified
deconstruct of
future cheer.
Àŧùl Dec 2016
Naughty young dreamer,
I find your poems intriguing,
Demons within you fight,
Hoping to overcome the longing,
Into a different dimension you think.

You are the ice,
Of the cold winters,
Under the cover of snow.

Ask you don't this attention,
Rest assured as you deserve it,
Efforts you put wouldn't go waste.

Taste you will success,
Happiness, and,
Espouse you will the divine.

Because so I forecast,
Ecstatic you should feel,
So many well-wishers you have,
T**hey all will take you to paradise.
Your own intro says the following:

I am a dreamer.
Most of my poems are baseless and at times don't make sense at all.
Depressed, sad, angry, hurt, alone, broken.. but yeah living.
I don't believe in love. But I think, love believes in me. I find it everywhere nowadays.
I love showers. Showers can wash away everything.
Smoke, dirt, his touch, his words.
I hate school but love education.
Can someone please kidnap me?

HP Poem #1312
©Atul Kaushal
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