The world's on fire,peace is extinct
Look how fragile peaceful minds can get
All hostile minds are having a ball right now
It's like peace got embellished in chaos
Where's peace at, what happened to her ?
Regional,global local ,peace is in short supply
This is the renaissance of a new world order
Where partial peace coexists with total chaos
People only search Google for mostly facts
Not for solutions to some distorted peace

What is peace then, how can it be?
Just a routine rhetorical question
Coming from the disturbed mind in me
Listen, One minute partial peace
Bang, another minute total chaos !
Nowadays, Instability everywhere is common place
As unscripted hate rhetoric freely echos
From jihadic podiums to confused minds
The conspicous birthplace of premeditated evil
The mind, soft spots of those totally confused
Call it the hotpots and playground for the devil
I , the skeptic, to say the very least,
See this quiet storm as a distorted peace  !

twitter @ivaclappers

Peace is going extinct ..
mjad 2d
We

....What are we?

His head tilts slightly
Feet stop where they are
I ask again lightly

What are we?....

He lets out no confession
To the floor his eyes drop
Once again I question

..What are we?..

His response comes slow
Eyes meet mine
"I don't know."

he was actually smiling and grabbing my hand but it felt like this when he said it

I've never hated one as much, as I thought I hated you.
For all that wicked shit you did, and hell you put me through.
I snuck into your room one night, and tried to take your life,
but then I lost my way and then I fucking dropped the knife.

I don't know how I'm feeling now, I don't know what I think.
I want to watch you die here, but instead I'll have a drink.
When my head is filled with fog, maybe I'll try it then?
Or will I lose my nerve, and just fuck it up again?

I saw you when you woke up and you looked and smiled at me.
But I still fucking hate you and I want to watch you bleed.

But worst of all, I hate myself because I love you too.
Even after all that hell you fucking put me through.

enriko 4d

i beg as if in need.
an infatuation,
a connection,
between today and me.

holding out my hand,
i see not mine,
but the person
"yesterday and tomorrow".

the pillowman screams
messing and mixing
with who i ought to be-
tonight is no different.

i walk in circles,
in melancholy,
and fraud joviality,
never to be anything.

-eozyoh. 14.03.17

I love you
I say
Thank you
He says
I want to be with you
I reply
You’re a great friend
He ends

Zach 6d

I wish life
were as simple
as this poem
Short
and
sweet

The poem makes a tree shape

We meet again, dirty tile. I rest my head against the wall, staring at you as the cold water spurting from the leaky shower head
hits my back in violent, uncoordinated patterns.
Now begins another session of deep contemplation...
what will we explore this time?
Why my family insists on being so loud? The recent event on the news, and how utterly ridiculous politicians act? The newest drama from school? What strange "fact" friend said to me this morning that made me question her internet sources?
No. Tonight is a night of tears.
They run down my face, leaving hot streaks that come as a shock after the steady drumming of the cold water on my body.
Picking up speed, I feel like a shower of my own...
why am I so sad?
For many months I've asked myself this question.
Every day I enter this shower
and reveal my true face to you,
little tile.
This shower is my version of a zen garden... the only place I can truly delve into the emotions I have pushed so far away.
But try as I might, I can't keep this mask on forever.
More and more tears fall from my contorted face.
it's everything.
the answer is everything.
I am constantly told to be grateful for all I have, to be thankful for the roof over my head and my food and clothes and family...
Do they really believe I lack gratitude?
That my emotionless face equates to me acting
unappreciative?
Apparently it is unacceptable
for me to show my true face,
dirty tile.
Evidently I must smile for the crowd, despite what
decay is taking hold inside.
So I will let these tears silently fall.
They are all that keep me real,
keep me human;
capable of other emotions than an exhausted smile
plastered to a weary face.
But I haven't long, I must collect myself again.
As my head separates from the porcelain surface,
I fix my eyes on you, my square friend.
What have I become?

What  
have
   I      
become?

FOR loving ME
FOR BEING SO ABOVE ME
EVEN THROUGH YOUR INFERIORITY-
FOR DOING SO MUCH FOR ME
BUT ACTUALLY DOING SO LITTLE.
DON’T LOOK AT ME, BUT
PLEASE DON’T LOOK AWAY.

I FIND MYSELF TANGLED IN YOUR SATIN BEDSHEETS.
AS OFTEN AS I FIND MYSELF TANGLED IN WORDS AT YOUR THROAT.
I CAN'T STRESS IT ENOUGH.
I NO LONGER FEEL love. I FEEL ALL OF THE WEIGHT, THOUGH YOUR TOUCH MAKES THE LOAD OF CONDITION WEIGHTLESS.
THE LIFT OF THIS BURDEN IS MOMENTARY.
WE GRAVITATE, WE CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT.
I HATE YOU
FOR loving ME.

Revised on Jan. 4th.
This was my submission to join this site.
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