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Matt Jul 14
Does a cactus understand it’s prickly?
Does a pencil know it’s writing lines?

Does a sock realize it’s being worn,
Does a teapot know it’s boiling over?

Does a cloud understand it’s floating by?
Does a brush realize it’s painting strokes?

Does a coin feel its journey in someone’s pocket,
Does a door know it’s opening or closing?

Does a match know it’s sparking flame?
Does a pebble realize it’s part of the path?

Does a river know it’s always moving,
or does it simply follow the current,
without thought,
just being?

Maybe it’s the not knowing
that makes us move,
that makes us be,
each moment unfolding
without question.

or maybe its 3:16 a.m. and I’m just going crazy
Nyx Velora Jul 8
Black tar runs inside my veins,
seeming to consume the red blood in me.
I scream in agony as it continues to eat me alive.
Looking in the mirror, I see my face—
but I can’t feel my hands.

Obsessing, again and again, just to attain normality.
Tearing skin from flesh and bones,
desperately seeking me in all this insanity.
I hear my voice—but it’s clouded
by a much louder one.

My body is no longer mine.
My mind, a pool of tangled vines,
slithering, weaving into the nooks and crannies
of my being—
waiting to devour my whole existence.

Desperately searching for the right words,
I tear and tear myself,
skin down to the muscles clinging to bones.
****** nails. Crucified dreams.
A perception of perfection—unattainable.

A siren’s call in the distance,
luring me into the murky waters of the unknown.
The danger of unlocking the doors
that holds back my desires and ambition—
yet I brace the door
with the strength of a bull, the pride of a lion.

Clawing at the core of my being,
all my blood, skin, flesh, and bones—
gone with the wind.
Only consciousness remains.
Yet I still can’t understand this unknown world.
I couldn’t even save my mind.
These thoughts have now consumed
my whole being.


- N.V. 🥀
I’m a flower with drooping ears
Uranium is the best snack for me

  I water myself ever night to make sure I stay ripe
  I heard the thunder scream “not again.”
  A bird watched me implode politely.
  Bees avoid me like taxes.
Sometimes I sit in the sink
Talking to dishes I refuse to wash.
I once tried to talk to a lightbulb,
It turned on, then went blind.

BAM!
  BAM!
    BAM!
      BAM!
 ­       BAM!

Caught.
Chainsawed the product.
No one asked what the product was.
They just clapped.

  BRAVO!

I wore a barcode of my favourite cereal as a scarf,
Told the cashier:
  “Scan me, I bruise easily.”
He called security.

My reflection told me:
  “You blink too much for a cyllinder.”
And I agreed.
Then blinked four times, fast.
  (That was the code for “leave me broken into thirds and believable halves.”)

I’m a memory someone scribbled over.
I’m the museum you build around your hostel.
I’m a vending machine that sells only change
And money is required for usage.

The floor tried to arrest me.
The ceiling held a grudge against me.
The windows applied for workers’ comp.
  And
  I told the walls I loved them.

They said:
  “You only say that when you’re hurting.”
My response:
  “Calamari doesn’t scream, and neither do I.”
Identity crisis.
John Fadipe Jun 8
I ask myself
The clock ticks on
Atop my shelf

Dreaming and waiting
Nirvana awaiting
Paradise lost
Nay, squandered
And I've been cursed to bear the cost

Am I doing enough?
I toil on end
Cold sweat roll down
With tears descend

Gnawing and gnashing
My future is crashing
Rotting as flies slowly arise
Yes, sullied
By heroes past who signed its demise

Am I doing enough?
Dark cul-de-sac
I tread unsure
No light, no life

Scathing reality
Humbled by hunger
Unsated I perish
Promises shattered
Bustling with dreams now hollow a hive
Am I doing enough to survive?
Gustavo G May 28
Said the woman,
with her trendy haircut,
colors of the season,
modern attitudes.

“I’m not like the others,”
wearing her tribe’s symbols,
Needing aproval,
Marking her skin with the same icons;
like words of the same language.

“My personality is unique,”
yet if they all spoke at once,
they would form a choir of millions
Millions, searching for individuality
through the same path.
You look but you don't see,                                                             ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­            
the inner beauty in
me                                                               ­                     
                                                                ­                                                        
So caught up on
physicality's                                                    ­                        
                                        ­                                                                 ­             
and your shallow
personality                                                      ­                              
                                                                ­                                                           Have you ever looked at
  yourself,                                                     ­                                     
                                                                ­                                                
you're no better than anyone
else                                                             ­         
                                                                ­                                                   
You are so cocky & self-
   assured                                                          ­              
                                                  ­                                                                 ­   
but can't say an intelligent
word                                                             ­                     
                                                                ­                                                        
  I am so glad that I'm not
you,                                                             ­                   
                                             ­                                                                 ­         
   at least I know what's the
truth                                                            ­              
                                                                ­                                                  
Thinking you're some kind of
sleuth,                                                        
                                                                ­                                            
searching for the fountain of
youth                                                            ­        
                                                                ­                                                    
  Do you really think those young girls,                                                  
        ­                                                                 ­                                      
 want to be a part of your sad
world?                                                           ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­        
   You can't love anyone but
  yourself                                                      ­                                              
                  ­                                                                 ­                               
 You can't connect with anyone
  else                                                          ­                          
                                      ­                                                                 ­               
  A world where women are objects & no
  opinions,                                                     ­                   
                                                                ­                                              
  where men speak loud & make all the
  decisions,                                              
     ­                                                                 ­                                        
  where men sit high on their thrones as
  kings,                                                        ­                
                                                ­                                                                 ­     
a place where women don't do any
  speaking,                                                     ­                               
                                                                ­                                              
where what you say goes, or else                                                             ­           
                                                                ­                                              
What women would surely call
hell                                                             ­           
                                                     ­                                                           
  Wel­l, I have an opinion, I have a
  say,                                                          ­                          
                                                                ­                                                        
I don't need your validation,
okay?                                                           ­                                                                 ­        
                                                        ­                                                                
­ I may not be the homecoming
queen                                                            ­  
                                                              ­                                                      
or a model on a movie
screen                                                           ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­        
but I am proud to have integrity                                                        ­              
                                                  ­                                                                
­ and morals that you're lacking                                                          ­              
                                                  ­                                                                 ­ 
Go, live in your sad little
world,                                                           ­                             
                                                                ­                                                
  have fun with a bevy of
  girls                                                         ­             
                                                                ­                                                       
  It won't last long, you will
  see,                                                          ­                
                                                                ­                                                      
 in the end they will be like me
I used to think I was doing something wrong to be disrespected when he was looking at other women. I found out he needs that to feel good about himself because he is insecure & has a fragile ego.
Damocles Apr 20
I yearn for the freedom of a bird, soaring high above the mundane,
Yearning to break free from the constraints of the grounded world.
When did the spark of imagination flicker and die?
Leaving behind a monotonous existence?

I long for the carefree days of carnival rides and cotton candy,
The thrill of the wind stealing my breath as the roller coaster swoops down the track.
I remember the awe-inspiring spectacle of fireworks,
Not the passive indifference that once filled me,
But the vibrant colors that danced in the sky,
Not muted and mildly annoying.

I crave the excitement of skipping school,
Feeling the rebellious spirit coursing through my veins as I run up and down the halls,
Instead of the tiptoeing and begging that now characterize my days.
I yearn to experience the fluttering of butterflies,
The nervousness of a first kiss,
And the pit of my throat clenching with the fear of asking a crush out.

Where did that innocent anxiety disappear?
When did imagination succumb to monotony?

I miss the simple, crude drawings I used to create world-building,
The comics of my own design and mind,
Characters rich with backstories and lives of their own.
Now, I struggle to put pen to paper,
I wonder if my words ever truly resonate.

Do they understand me?
Was I ever truly understood?
How I wish I could start over, grow in a way that doesn’t **** my garden,
But there’s no rewind.
I could wish on every four-leaf clover, but that’s not enough.

As I watch them fly overhead,
I can’t help but feel a sense of envy and longing.
I yearn to be them, carefree and clinging to the freedom that seems to elude me.
The air rustling through their feathers,
Taking me away into the ether is a tantalizing reminder of what I could’ve had.
Have you ever just let everything else go, all the worries and spectacle of your day, and watch the birds in the sky? Every time I do, I reminisce on life, thinking about what was, what is, and what still could be.
Nehal Mar 15
Baseless turmoil I have carried
       for you was faithless.
Aged me fine in my youth
       groundless.
No longer I was more sure
      about the lore.
No doubt it was offshore,
     I have to build my own floor.
Maryann I Mar 12
The ice will melt, the seas will rise,
The fires will spread beneath the skies,
The ice will melt, the seas will rise,
And swallow what’s left of our goodbyes.

The bombs will fall, the war drums beat,
The hunger roams the crowded streets,
The bombs will fall, the war drums beat,
And scatter all we thought was sweet.

The air is thick, the forests burn,
The soil will crack and never turn,
The air is thick, the forests burn,
And no one’s left to mourn or learn.

The leaders fight, the nations break,
The lies they spread, the lives they take,
The leaders fight, the nations break,
And no one cares for freedom’s sake.

The waves will crash, the crops will die,
The children’s cries are lost in the sky,
The waves will crash, the crops will die,
And no one asks the reasons why.

The guns will roar, the blood will spill,
The streets will echo with the chill,
The guns will roar, the blood will spill,
And hope will vanish, stark and still.

The earth will crack, the heavens fall,
The cities crumble, one and all,
The earth will crack, the heavens fall,
And no one hears the final call.

The news will spin, the lies will spread,
The digital wars will fill with dread,
The news will spin, the lies will spread,
And truth is lost, our minds misled.

The voices scream, the tears will flow,
As we unravel, slow and low,
The voices scream, the tears will flow,
And the world ends with no one to know.

The missiles launch, the skies ablaze,
The tyrants rise, we fall to gaze,
The missiles launch, the skies ablaze,
As borders close and hope decays.

The blood will spill, the bodies burn,
The genocides, they never turn,
The blood will spill, the bodies burn,
As refugees with nowhere yearn.

The lies are loud, the truths erased,
The leaders’ words, a hollow face,
The lies are loud, the truths erased,
As corruption eats at every place.

The oceans choke, the skies turn black,
The polar ice will never track,
The oceans choke, the skies turn black,
And ecosystems fall off track.

The forests die, the insects fade,
The rivers dry, no hope is laid,
The forests die, the insects fade,
And nature’s toll is fully paid.

The banks collapse, the debts will rise,
The homeless roam with vacant eyes,
The banks collapse, the debts will rise,
As wealth divides beneath the lies.

The shelves are bare, the crops will fail,
The markets crash, the ships turn pale,
The shelves are bare, the crops will fail,
And hunger spreads beneath the wail.

The shots ring out, the streets are torn,
The bloodied cries, the youth are worn,
The shots ring out, the streets are torn,
And hatred thrives where love was sworn.

The children starve, the women weep,
The suffering’s vast, too deep to keep,
The children starve, the women weep,
As death is sold and souls to reap.

The screens will flash, the truth’s erased,
The mind’s enslaved, the soul misplaced,
The screens will flash, the truth’s erased,
And privacy’s a stolen grace.

The codes will break, the AI reigns,
The jobs are lost, the fear remains,
The codes will break, the AI reigns,
And human hands are bound in chains.

The idols rise, the people fall,
The souls are lost in empty thrall,
The idols rise, the people fall,
As substance dies and skins appall.

The hearts are numb, the minds are cold,
The stories fade, the truths are sold,
The hearts are numb, the minds are cold,
And vanity is bought, not gold.

The churches burn, the temples fall,
The faith is lost, no prayer to call,
The churches burn, the temples fall,
As lies are sold beneath the pall.

The cults arise, the masses sway,
And faith is twisted, led astray,
The cults arise, the masses sway,
As reason fades and faith decays.

The plagues will rise, the sickness spreads,
The bodies fall, the doctor dreads,
The plagues will rise, the sickness spreads,
And medicine’s a ghost instead.

The children’s cries, the wounds will fester,
The cures are gone, the doctors’ muster,
The children’s cries, the wounds will fester,
As life is snatched by every bluster.

The skies are dark, the hearts are still,
The hopelessness, an endless hill,
The skies are dark, the hearts are still,
And time slips past against our will.

The fear will grow, the shadows long,
The meaning lost, the world is wrong,
The fear will grow, the shadows long,
And we are left to weep our song.
This poem was created to express my worries for the world and the overwhelming challenges we face. From political unrest to environmental destruction, economic instability, and social decay, it reflects how everything seems to be falling apart. The repetition in the poem displays the weight of these crises, expressing the urgency and discomfort I feel as I watch the world change in unsettling ways. It’s a reminder of how deeply interconnected these issues are, and how they are leading us toward an uncertain, frightening future.
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