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Who was the first “Original”?
The shepard before the Sheep.
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?

Their following a facade of an imbecile, it’s pathological.
But without it, they would weep.
Who was the first “Original”?

Why can’t they see the fictional?
They pray the lord, their soul to keep
What did the Sheep do before the Methodical?

Has it always been traditional?
does it help them sleep?
Who was the first “Original”?

It is a joke to see this as Logical
We’ve been snowed by those in the Keep
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?

Why can’t we find Traditional
We sit in a crowd where we praise what they steep
Who was the first “Original?
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?
Max Dec 2018
Full of thoughts.
My head
Like a crowded room.

Every thought close to the
And bumping into eachother.

But when the music
It stops the race of
And the resulting memory loss.
Not my best work, sorry:(
Qwn Nov 2018
The world screamed as we took the stage,
at eight years old, the world
I knew was inside a cage.
I'd never heard anything as loud,
as I stood up tall in front that crowd.
The stage was lit,
The lights were blinding,
This was it,
This was trying.

At the end, I'd never felt so proud,
I felt a million miles off the ground.
Parents came to give praise to their children,
and if we were on cloud nine, they were on cloud ten.
As mums and dads held onto their prides,
I stood off to the side, waiting for mine.

My mum never showed,
the curtains were drawn,
and the doors were all closed.
So I packed myself up,
and started for home.
My hopes had fallen, but I tried to hold on,
because in my hands lay a single red rose.
Abby M Nov 2018
Threads of people winding by each other, clumping and then seamlessly slipping past.
I try to blend in but I feel like I’m too slow or too fast.
My skills at reading crowds are on the lower side.
Yet I love being in crowds, amongst so many you can hide.

People running everywhere, and I’ve nowhere to go
But that’s fine with me if these are people I don’t know
Their eyes slipping right past me, neither towards or away,
They simply disregard me, nothing warrants naught to say.

This is how I want it, yet I can’t help feeling that
It’s hard sometimes to be the one that everyone forgets
I don’t want that at all, now that I think about it more
For how could they forget me if they’d not seen me before?
Fọlá Nov 2018
The door is open.
    Monsters might be lurking.
    Do you see your life as just a token?
    Would you even live long enough for your story to be spoken?

    Stop shivering, start praying.
    Stop screaming, start acting.
    Stop looking, start running.
    For the Demons, are coming.

    Your dreams, they are haunting.
    Your blood, they are craving.
    For Your sound, they are listening.
    For them to pounce, while you are sleeping.

    The Boogeyman is in town.
    Pound, Pound, Pound;
    The heart sounds.
    Silent, goes the town.
    Empty, goes the crowd.
    As the Darkness, grips the clouds.
    Even the King shall not be saved by his crown.

    Oh, you think this is just a story.
    You think this storyteller must be joking.
    The signs, you keep ignoring.
    The tales, you keep dismissing.
    Well, then fear not. Take your time, enjoy and keep playing.

    For very soon, your tears would be streaming
    Your throat would be croaking.
    Your blood, gushing.
    Your skin, flailing.
    Some body parts might even go missing.
    Because, the darkness is coming.
    The Darkness, is Coming.
‘The Darkness is Coming’ is a poem trying to tell the tale of an impending doom. A warning to the people. A warning that wasn’t heeded. Please, enjoy.
Amanda Nov 2018
I think I may search
Every passing face for yours
Until my last breath
You're the person I automatically scan faces for in a crowd..
JJ Inda Nov 2018
The night was quiet,
the fat one quit his diet
and the skinny one threw up.
The old one mumbled, spat in his plastic cup.
The dog barked briefly,
the fly
on the wall
saw it all,
but understood
and the bookworm
was left wanting.
Salmabanu Hatim Nov 2018
Alone I am a lone soul,
Together we are whole.
Alone I break,
Together we make.
Alone I go astray,
Together we stay.
Alone I find myself,
Together we have ourselves.
Alone I smile only,
Together we laugh openly.
I am alone in a crowd,
Together we are the crowd.
Alone my feelings are my own,
Together our feelings are known,
Halved and shared,
Loved and cared.
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