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“Your poems are too short,”
Or so I’ve been told

But it’s the few true lines
That really touch the soul
Do you prefer long or short poems?
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 8
Why is it that we feel so fundamentally flawed? We are never good enough, never enough, are never understood, always bring about anger. We may be educated, but we feel so ******....we are looked down on as the "******" one. The one who talks *******. We are somehow ALWAYS wrong. We are wrong. Its so tiring, trying to do good, and yet always failing. Failing somewhere. Trying to help others, we fail eventually. Stuck like this, feeling like an imbecile, who needs to be avoided. Hiding in this house, a prison. They look down on us. We might write, poetry, stories, music, no one is interested, no one wants to hear, there is always something wrong with it. Can never be heard. We are ignored. Perhaps by the ignorant, yet ignorant people can make us feel so weak, ******, and irrelevant. We may feel overly sensitive, to protect those we love (not related to us, yet have become adopted families), and in doing so we are met with anger from our own. We are a disgrace,. A disgrace to society. Deserve all the pain. Nobody wants to hear us anyway. Nobody really cares. You see, they think we are "doing it for attention"...attention seekers.....out to hurt everyone else. Thats what they think. If we dare speak out - they ignore. They think to ignore is to teach us a lesson, it is to stop us from speaking about our pain. That we need to learn to stop talking about it. To keep it to ourselves, because we do not matter. It feels we do not matter at all. We are fundamentally flawed. And always will be. The good we do for others, is never enough. Its just NEVER enough. We face criticism even for WANTING to help others. Nobody understands. And maybe thats because we are fundamentally flawed. How can we ever be understood.
Its not really a poem, but I was encouraged to share it as a piece of writing that I had shared in a group of people faced with narcissistic abuse. As they could all relate to it :(
Brian Yule Feb 28
Side-eyed into silence
She settled for a sour stare
Tongue-tied defiance
Alle Jan 27
as a child, my parents’ comforting
words washed over me like
wave of the ocean, soothing
the wounds left by harsh,
immature names, and i marvelled
at the difference mere words
could make and how they
could change a life

as a teen, my parents’ grating
criticism and unthoughtful words
about the mistakes i make and
the grades i bring home
rub me the wrong way
like dry sand between my toes,
and i try to be the bigger person, i try
to walk away, but with every step
the blisters fester, and soon enough
the wound is too large
to be healed anymore
— how faith and trust in parents disappears
Katie V-W Jan 20
I will not be judged by my writing so I refuse to make writing.
I will be judged for not writing.

I will be judged.
Bibby Jan 10
Everyone is full of opinions about
What I should do,
Where I should go,
Who I should be,
And who should I talk to;

When they can't even look inside their own bags to clean their dirt.
Old vent.
Andrew Jan 7
Criticism is often not taken or given well
Something that helps me
Is focusing on what people are doing correctly
It makes my criticism more genuine
Instead of focusing on how far they’re falling behind
I try to focus on how much further they can go
So I’m genuinely disappointed when they fail
And try offering advice on how to succeed
Which I guess you could call criticism
But it feels a lot less like it
Andrew Montejo Dec 2018
The beautiful crimson rose
loved a worm
thinking that it will become
A handsome buterfly soon.

The worm sipped the
sweet juice of the rose- can't
resist it 'cause she's blinded
by love of the worm

Months later, the worm
spread his beautiful wings
while the rose withered,
her petals were rotten in the corner.
Kelly Hogan Dec 2018
Today I feel small,
Smaller than the pebble
Beneath your shoe.

I didn't know I'd fall,
Crumble at the criticism
Delivered by you.

It made me question it all,
Wonder if I have what it takes
To see this job through.

I need to learn to stand tall,
Not take it so personally
But that's not such an easy thing to do.
Must be the holidays, full moon, etc. Today was a rough day.

That’s all it ever is


Do you really trust the words


That are thrown like knives


Lies, insults, and blames


That hurt more than words should


But the truth comes and no one listens


When the complements are said, that are considered criticism


That’s all it is…
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