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AceLione May 26
Throughout my life as a hopeless romantic I’ve seen the many ways of affection

And here I realize that when I see those many cliché ways, I end up in perplexion.

Because each time I give my heart to those I care for, I think I do something in an “unique” way

Only for me to realize I’ve been doing and romanticizing the cliché
I have not posted in a while
Jeremy Betts Mar 8
Shamelessly flaunting a "good life" but never own it
They're only snapshots of good times and staged moments
You've only come across carefully selected, rookie opponents
Never felt how hard struggle hits
What about when the floor drops out and a new rock bottom is found?
What about when the relentless doubt is the only thing registering as sound?
It's a generic cliche but a legitimate thing to say,
Who are you when judgment isn't around?
Do you explode in secrecy if to tightly wound?
Do you trust what stops the breakdown from happening in front of a crowd?
When you can't distinguish between right and wrong, when up seems down
When "elementary my dear Watson" proves too profound
When inner thoughts are unbound
When your own mind releases the hellhound
When you lose the comfort and security of solid ground
Control and reason give way to confusion and treason and all you can do is lie and say "change is inbound"
Would exposing the real you leave those closest to you confound?
They say there's two sides to every story
I believe the same is true for every personality,
So I'm just asking around

Jeremy Betts Jan 30
My thoughts
They can get scary
It's threats, more often than not, not empty
It's hard to convey what they say
They whisper a fray of cliche self hate with 41 years to work it's way to this level of decay
It's all consuming, engulfing then removing positivity 'til it's so scarce I'm left to pretend mostly
A sparse landscape of depravity naturally
Clear cut to make way for the fear factory
The soul fractures, now solely fear so to ward off lonely I let it stay
Not knowing how to play
Leaves me in the dark on what's at play

My thoughts
They aren't worth a penny
My two cents is free
I'd pay you to take them all completely
Is there a chance it gets messy?
But oh what a hero you could be
Imagine it up on a marquee, shining brightly
"Some dumb fuuck, a heros story"
(A family movie)
I'll be the monkey in the middle, come meet me
Come greet me and see purgatory, my state of temporary suffering and predetermined misery
What I'm forced to portray is only done cause I must obey or pay some ******* up penalty
Knowing I am the game and the prey, feeding a self-righteous gluttony
How much more do you want from me?
How much more must I contort for thee?

Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
I see you had a bad day
Thinkin' things you shouldn't say
No other choice but to stay and pay to play
Can't even stray away from your own cliche
Doomed by strands of DNA
Failed every single attempt in every possible way
In desperation you kneel to pray
No answer today...
...same as yesterday

Ryan Clark Apr 2023
Fatherhood is like carpentry,
Crafted with patience and care,
Each piece measured and cut with precision,
To build a home that's strong and fair.

The foundation, a steady base,
A father's love unwavering,
Like sturdy beams that hold up walls,
Through storms and winds unrelenting.

A father's guidance, like a level,
Ensuring every step is straight,
Teaching lessons, shaping character,
Like a master craftsman with every trait.

As children grow and set leave,
Fortified wings are left empty,
He never left until the job was done,
His masterpiece finally won.

So here's to all the fathers out there,
Your dedication, like carpentry,
Is a labor of love that never fades,
And builds a legacy for eternity.
Been a bit y'all. Got laid off the other day, I was stressing worrying about my little one. I was playing with open AI and got inspired.
i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
   of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
   of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
   and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives

i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
   to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
      or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
JAM Mar 2022
one cliché here
one cliché there
one sober mess
and soberness
seems clear

the skies weep
and the sun is yellow
and poets dream
lovers quarrel

can't tell when it's time
to end a sentence
or verse

versus the mind
             ­                                        of
by a thousand erections
of towers to the weeping sky
under that yellow sun
and the green grass
and the tides
that ebb and flow

listening to the sighs of wind
in and out
breathe and pout
you'll never be
that is to see
the reflection of your soul
on mine

or some nonsense about loss
of time.
tabitha asiana Jan 2022
There are days where everything's at the top
I don't think about you
I could even joke about my feelings towards you
Laugh at the thought of us

But somedays felt like the sun hasn't risen for years
Or the rivers dried up
And all I could think was "what ifs" about us
All the memories never made
All the paths never taken
All the love never given
All the growth never achieved
And the life never lived with you.
I hope you never get to experience the kind of life of losing someone you can never live without
My Dear Poet Dec 2021
‘In her eye
is a butterfly’
I know…
sounds like you’ve heard this poem before
…may sound crass
But alas…allow me, a word or more

You may find
in the next few lines
what may sound a familiar tune
like butterflies and stars
heartaches and scars
or another poem about the moon

this one’s eyes are rare
like caterpillars they’re
brought alive without a womb
and she breathes new life
with the flutter of  her eyes
yet she needs no cocoon
AE Aug 2021
You carry with you pick-pocketed fairytales
In hopes to find something close enough to home
That can fill your glass half-full
You sew yourself into white noise
Soak your hands in spring waters
That rush down memory lanes
Putting together a mosaic
of the greener grass you saw
On the other side
Stitching together fragments of light
From the end of the tunnel
Even bought yourself some rose coloured glasses
To see the silver lining of every cloud
But it all falls short
When the tree stops bearing lemons
So, what does life give now?
Besides some shade and something to laugh about...
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