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Persephone Mar 2021
Silver words trickled from his lips
And settled on her sleeve
Where her heart was resting
Nolan Willett Feb 2021
When you realize you’ll never seize the day,
Never have the right things to say,
Your judgments are always erroneous,
You’re not Hamlet, but Polonius.
Though you know that all things must end,
It doesn’t spur your torments to mend,
A dutiful advisor,
Who never gets wiser.
It must be so serene
Never having thought you might have been-
“Neither a borrower nor lender be”;
I say, yet fear both apply to me.
“To thine own self be true”;
ah! Long ago, I missed that cue-
And all do agree,
The audience doesn’t need, my soliloquy.
Under all this weight so crushing
And the envy to just feel nothing,
This act’s end, now I’m certain:
I’ll die off stage, behind a curtain.
Hamlet is my favorite Shakespeare play, and I wanted to write from Polonius’POV
Slightly Lovely Nov 2020
We shared a pain,
                                   cracks spreading over both our porcelain faces.
                             If i told you,
            would the fissures begin to fade?
Would you feel loved?

                                                         ­                        (or would you hide away?)
                                                      Coul­d we talk at night?
                                     As the chasm we both feel begins to gape,
         as our hearts ache and the distractions fade?

(or would you hate me?)
dorian green Oct 2020
let's say atlas' body is full of birds
and when he is crushed to death
they will escape
free and resplendent
let's say i am atlas and
you are the face in the mirror
let's say atlas is screaming and
crying and begging
but you are silent and
your face is unmoving
atlas' mother gets that
worried look on her face
and the part of atlas that
still loves himself
is trying to get him to
just put it all down for a second
let's say atlas is smoking
a cigarette
let's say atlas' rib cage
is cracking under the pressure
and it's worth pointing out
that no one will notice
atlas is gone
until the world starts falling down
around his body
Sura Aug 2020
Maybe a little,
where one is dark, and one is light yet.
There they are.
the place where it meets the middle.

Where the sun dips down and kisses
the shadows,
and in the middle, there they are,
the colors,
the oranges, the pinks, the blues,
the reds,
until it’s a seamless line of completion.
Mrs Anybody Jun 2020
what if
we fall
in love

we'll never be
able to
love ourselves
one hundred percent?

what if
we fall
in love

we unconsciously
need constant
how worthy
we are
of love?
Also check out my other poems!  :)
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