Well yet again its late at night ,
And yet again the only sound is the scratching of my pen against the paper of my lined notebook and the strange clicks emitted by my keyboard as I type this ,
Yet again I'm trying to write things that will evoke wonder and admiration,
But yet again I'm stuck in the trap of writing to feel not writing to help.
Yet again I'm trying to figure out what the universe has planned for me ,
but yet again I'm beaten down by societies code.
i feel like im being swallowed whole
Nylee Dec 2017
My tea's gone cold yet again
yesterday's ink stain still the same
even the clutter & the litter still remains
sleepy haze affected the brain
today was much emotional drain
and I try in vain
to construct another line
which fits the rhyme
but I got no time
I got to sleep, Goodbye.
Nylee Nov 2017
They ask me to speak
but I have no words in the head,
I am the blank state
and they are not going to wait.

Their voices erupting
their sounds disrupting,
the construct of my thoughts
turning it too short.

It feels ridiculous
how empty my mind feels,
words do not say
what they are suppose to.
I loss my breaths midway
forgetting to open my mouth,
they say to speak loud
they are being unnecessarily rude
they do not know I can't.

It surprises others that it is not easy
to find your voice in midst of the noise,
silence though nice gives you no presence
and no one comes to my defence.

Try clearing my throat
struggling to open the mouth,
waiting for sound to let out
with words that support my cause.
BSeuss Oct 2017
I thought I was writing
new forms of poetry.
I realize now it was not
at all to be.

people whom read my works
must be kind for not
boycotting my hypocrisy.

Stephen Rutledge Sep 2017
What moments we hope to encase in amber,

Though revisited,
To feel as though we are returning home,

Though nurtured,
The times we were less alone,

Carefully we construe,
All we once ever knew,

Though the minds resin do not hold these moments,
For reconstruction distort preservation,

And memory in the mind,
is only as real as the ideal future
We'll start with commitment
and go on from there.
Build a frame of caring,
What good times we'll share.

Add a coast of affection,
To make our lives bright.
Hammer in some respect,
We'll build it up right.

Paper it with honesty,
To keep our paths straight.
Insolate with kindness,
Our joy will be great.

We'll heat with compassion,
To make the nights warm.
And seal it with tryst,
To keep us from harm.

When it's complete,
We shall venture inside.
Finish with love,
And in love we'll abide.
Vexren4000 Aug 2017
A statue,
Made in the image of man,
Standing tall over the bustling city square,
Ivory solid flesh,
standing tall,
Against mother nature,
Moss infecting the statuesque form.
Showing that even the marble,
Is not immune to age,
And to decay.

Druzzayne Rika May 2017
is difficult to construct
It comes naturally
or doesn't .
Alexa Sangren Apr 2017
The construct of "in"
Pushes us all away
Such as ripples
When someone dives
Micah Apr 2017
I stand on the edge
of the obsidian water
that has pooled together
Touching the tips
of my bare toes
of my bare bones

I am curious
to see what lies
on the other side
of the water
and my reflection
beckons me
but it is different than I

I am strong
I am the swell of the ocean
I am natural
I am a petal refusing to bow to the rain
I am exposed
I am content in my nakedness

But my reflection is inviting
as she waves to me
to come over to the other side

I am falling head first
into the pool
and I feel every hair
being ripped and laid
perfectly in place
and I feel my face
become malleable wax

And as I emerge
from the pool
on the other side
I am gasping
My skin is red and smooth
My hair is shiny and long
My face is smiling and demure

But my ocean is a puddle to be stepped in
But my petals are to be plucked at any given moment
But my nakedness is to be shamed and clothed

And as I look around
a myriad of pools
surround me
with people
who are just as horrified
as I am

because we are not who we are.
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