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Sorry won't do...
Open to arguably the same
Of what is, a person of who
The truth, when I quietly name...

Children a universal charity...
Elect a seer, or offer a proven
Wait, is ours for a faring vanity
The has your might, as chastity's problem...

Fly by, and heed?
A question of moments, more adores
Ask the question of mete and need
The luck of angel's, is anger was...

A place for cynical wealth, lost
A pace of worthier demonstration, caught
A pax of elucidated reasons, saw us
A person with uniqueness depends, saw it

Given the gift of giving
That youth has come of age
For a sincerity, sated with living
In the shadow of kindness, not angers fate
Another purpose behind, another purpose forward, another purpose excited
jojo 5h
We smiled and missed the little things,
Chasing big dreams, we forgot what joy brings.
Caught in the noise, we lost what felt right,
Running after things that just weren't in sight.

Now we're stuck with choices to make,
Wishing for a chance, just for our hearts' sake.
I'm waiting for the day when I'll finally feel free,
Holding on to hope, trusting what's inside of me.
jay 3d
we rode our bikes on autumn street
still not convinced it’s not a dream
wind swept hair and promises
that we'd never forget how it feels

you forgot about autumn street
as soon as the leaves fell from the trees
forgot all those promises
so ready to never look back

too eager to grow up and leave
but I think I'm stuck here
I'm still on autumn street
and you're state lines away

I'm stuck between growing up
and staying in my comforts
it seems too easy for you
to move on from autumn street

I ran through autumn street
and forgot to think about you
I think it's a sign
that I should leave too
Sitting at a stained desk
superfluous space for ink wells,
groove to place my pencil
I dream of rockets, submarines and spells
as the sixties swing by
                                  out of sight.

In the lowest English sets,
there’s no dyslexia
only dumb slackness, scribbling misspelt words;
scrapped, I scarcely scrape a pass.

What bare faced side I display
attempting to write a poem
when the system says
You ****.
I went to school early because the local authority needed to make up numbers. I was probably dyslexic as well. I wrote this for the staff of a school I work in, and it's interesting that it engaged teachers, assistants and site staff.
Dear Dreamer,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that no one loved you the way you loved them.
I'm sorry no one stood up for you when you needed it, like how you did for them. He never got the prison sentence he deserved.
He never moved on from you. He knew he could never replace you, and yet he hurt you, and I apologize.
They never reciprocated their feelings, even after you poured your heart into them.

I'm sorry that you recognized their footsteps and had to live in fear.
They didn't fight for you when you needed it, but blamed you, and for that, I'm sorry.
They told you that you were the "troublemaker" and the "angry daughter", but why were you angry?
I'm sorry that they crushed your dreams, Dreamer.

I'm sorry that you had to leave.
I'm sorry that they talked about you behind your back, insulting your name.
They destroyed everything you've ever touched and spread nasty lies about you.
I'm sorry that they altered the truth, the same truth you wished people had heard.

I'm sorry that they had tried to crush the hope and heartbeat of a child.
They turned your blazing fire into a simmering ash, and it was almost fully diminished.
But you kept it burning nonetheless, and you kept dreaming.
So though I am sorry that I wasn't always there, I was always hopeful.
Keep dreaming, My Dreamer.

Best Regards,
You <3
this is my 131st poem, written on 11/15/24
I will always defend you
My spirited child
One day you'll sit quietly
But for now, run wild

Laugh loudly, cry freely
Get mud in your hair
Let rainbows and sparkles
Dictate what you wear

Have no inhibitions
Sing and dance as you please
Come home with wet socks on
And scuffs on your knees

Fizz with electricity
Spin round and round
Do cartwheels and swing
Until the world's upside down

Delight in the lights
When we drive after dark
Keeping waving hello
To every dog in the park

Ask questions, big questions
'What about when we die?'
Look for the loved ones
We lost in the sky

Play fight with your brother
Make him laugh till he cries
And chat from your car seat
The what's, when's and whys

One day you'll care
You'll sit quietly and blush
We'll get there, I know
But for now, what's the rush?

I will always defend you
My spirited child
You're never too much
You're bright, free and wild
Any feedback would be appreciated:)
Maria Etre Nov 12
My niece
made me bangle
of letters, starts, unicorns|
and colored beads

Then it hit me
that's her poem to me
a set of random things
that sit beautifully
side by side
around in a circle

and I noticed that
that's the first time
someone wrote
a poem
about
me
Mrs Timetable Nov 11
The perpetual state
Of heart break
Never heals
It just learns
To deal
What hand have you been dealt?
Gerry Sykes Nov 11
No one saw the hooded man
in the grain of the wood:
every night I slept face down
so I didn't have to look at him.

I'm grown up:
there are no figures
on wardrobe doors,
but some people make me hide
under the bed sheets.
I was just watching an halloween movie and it brought to mind my childhood fear of a figure I was in the grain of the wood of my wardrobe.
Boris Cho Nov 10
Grief is not something one simply “gets over.” It’s a profound and transformative process that we learn to carry with us, reshaping it into wisdom and strength. Through my own experiences; surviving a traumatic childhood, navigating a toxic divorce, losing a best friend, and enduring health battles; I’ve come to realize that grief is best navigated with the support of others, not in isolation.

There are essential needs we must honor when mourning: acknowledging the reality of loss, embracing the pain, and leaning on others to help carry the weight. Grief is not an experience to be rushed or solved, but rather a process of reconciliation; a deep acceptance that transforms us. Pain doesn’t vanish, but with time and support, we learn to live alongside it. I’ve walked this path, understanding that grief becomes a part of us, woven into the fabric of who we are, reshaping our identity.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have a circle of friends and family whose love has carried me through the darkest moments. My older sister and twin brother, in particular, have been my constant companions in this journey. They were there during my childhood, when trauma was a silent presence. They stood by me through my divorce, when I questioned my worth as a husband and father. And they held me up through the grief of losing my best friend and the challenges of facing health issues that left me questioning my own mortality.

In my journey as a 41-year-old single father to my beautiful 9-year-old daughter, I’ve come to understand the deep depths of grief and the importance of embracing vulnerability. Grief is not merely an experience to endure but a courageous path toward healing and authenticity. It has taught me that acknowledging our pain allows us to connect more deeply with ourselves and others, paving the way for genuine mourning.

Through my experiences in grieving past relationships, I’ve learned that vulnerability is a strength rather than a weakness. Recently, during a theater outing, my daughter witnessed my tears while watching Wild Robot. On our walk home, she courageously asked me which parts of the movie had affected me the most. We paused on a bench, sharing our feelings and reflecting on the moments that sparked emotion within us. Together, we grieved for the old goose Longneck, honoring his courage and bravery for a few quiet moments.

This experience not only deepened our bond but also illustrated to her that expressing emotions is a natural and valuable part of life. In those moments, I realized that fostering an environment where feelings can be shared freely helps nurture resilience and empathy in her. By embracing our vulnerabilities, we honor our grief and create space for love, connection, and understanding, reminding ourselves that mourning is an integral part of our shared humanity. In navigating my own grief, I hope to guide her in finding the courage to authentically experience her emotions as she grows, assuring her that it’s okay to feel deeply and openly in a world that often encourages the opposite.

What I’ve learned is that grief, in its purest form, is a communal experience. The presence of those who care for us is essential. It’s in their company that I’ve found solace, in their compassion that I’ve discovered the strength to keep moving forward. The relationships that have endured through these hardships have been my lifeline, helping me process not only the pain of loss but also the profound sense of survival and rebirth that follows.

In my support group, I’ve found a space where vulnerability is met with understanding, where shared experiences foster healing. These connections have reminded me that we are not meant to bear the weight of our grief alone. My siblings’ generosity and my friends’ loyalty have allowed me to reshape my pain into something meaningful. Through them, I’ve found the courage to keep walking this path, not in spite of the losses I’ve faced, but because of the love that surrounds me.

Grief may be inevitable, but it is not insurmountable. With time, with patience, and with the unwavering support of those who care for us, we can reconcile our losses and create a new understanding of who we are. In the end, it’s the love we receive that helps us carry the grief; and in that love, we find the strength to continue.



It’s as if you’ve spent a lifetime in pursuit, tirelessly honing your craft, only to meet the moment you’ve long awaited; and falter. In that instant, the prize you held so tightly slips through your fingers, drifting out of reach, lost forever.

Every step, every sacrifice, has led you here, only for the dream you chased so relentlessly to dissolve before your eyes. The weight of expectation presses down, and the failure burns deep, rending your heart in waves, relentless in its ache.

But at the end, where defeat seemed inevitable, something unexpected awaits. There, beyond the finish line, stand the ones you love most; cheering, smiling, their eyes bright with pride. Their applause whispers a truth louder than your loss: that second place is but a number. In their eyes, you have always been, and will always be, their champion.

— Sincerely, Boris
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