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Poet X Jul 2019
They say there is
no place like home.

But I’d rather be anywhere
than my own mind.

It’s very crowded in here.
Too many faces Too many faces Too many faces
F A Pacelli May 2019
when the people are rotten
fear yields more fruit than love
but to rule with fist and fear
is to become rotten inside
thus both ruler and populace
rot as one
TR James May 2019
Alone with no one around, alone in a crowd,
Alone when quiet, alone when it’s loud.

Alone means darkness is not far away,
Alone means the soul never sees the light of day.

Alone happens at work and alone happens at play,
Alone you ask when people are never far away?

Alone is not about people but rather emotion,
Alone some claim is in your head, it’s just a notion.

Alone comes to those with both fortune and fame,
Alone comes to the strong, the sturdy, and lame.

Alone can at times be a friend, but it’s mostly a foe,
Alone is painful, but the lonely can put on a show.

Alone is a sentence that lasts but a life,
Alone on the earth cuts the heart like a knife.

One day soon the loneliness of life will end,
One day soon the lonely won’t have to pretend.

The lonely this life hope not to extend
Simply let the soul depart they ask be it to ascend or descend.
This is a poem written out of personal experience.
Sky Mar 2019
it's a big, dull throb out there
and there i am, thronging through the thick

we collide, ricochet, burst in each others' peripherals
we tangle and untangle, mesh and unmesh
our limbs, our lines of thought,
our lives, stuffed into one-liners

we pass by,
shoulders thump like halfhearted tongues and
barely parted lips, out drips a single glob of 'morning
and sinks in the air

our lives are too heavy
we continue to fall through the gaps
we cannot stop
we continue to fall through the gaps
our collision was at best
arbitrary, negligible, in the expanse of our lives
in which
we continue to fall through the gaps

why do we knot our fingers when we'll eventually die
why do i hold that gaze of yours when you're only passing by
Yonnick August Dec 2018
never did fancy crowds
nor did I understood
those people who
did it all
for attention.
more of the
introverted type
would be fitting
to describe my soul.
never what I seem...
people often think
he's to a fault
it's just a reaction
I guess...
to my problem
with crowds.
In a room with
or more,
watch as I
feel the eyes,
create stories
a bottle
that has lost
it's cap
at the end of
a table
with an
beginning to
t i p
as all anxieties
present themselves
on the

f   l   o   o   r

I find
how some can be
surrounded by people
yet still
The indication
I awaken
The crowds
Deepening my
False admiration
Thinking of
The precipitation
Moments to
Broken obfuscation
My heart dwelling
In the moments before
The end
Lily Oct 2018
Too many people,
Too many faces, and not
Enough time to breathe.
elle Sep 2018
in the air I breathe, dust stirs
and old men stare
kick the concrete in my way
but don’t cry in public!

sidewalk stale trash smells
creep up from below

children yell and the elderly saunter
space full of lungs and shouts and smoke and thoughts

there is firm and fatal
there is passing and translucent
wafts of fresh bread, intimate eye contact, the jump of your heart
it all passes
and soon too
the city passes
and all that’s left is this limp air
daring you to keep on living
Marilina Sep 2018
You can't just assume
Things about someone
Just because they act
Just the way they do.
Just because they're different
And are not like you.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Do you think the crowd
Might think better of you?
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