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mjad Jan 2024
Sometimes I wonder what I would do
If I walked into a room
And all I saw was you
Jess B Nov 2023
I  did that for you
...didn't I?

yet now,
I feel empty
inside.

If I offered my gift
did I take it from me?

Tell me

What really is
Authenticity?

...

Where does it reside?

Can it be captured?

held?

OR

will it always
at random
dry the well?

Who is this for?

and is it needed?

Some days like
sunshine

but others feel
depleted.
Francis Oct 2023
Be
What do I do?
What do I be?
May it simply be,
That I’m just me?

Who do I be?
Who should I be?
Is it always a matter,
Of what I make me?

Why can’t I just be?
What can’t I just be me?
What does everything,
Rely on what to be?

I somehow seem unable,
To be any ounce of free,
With requirements to be,
Everything but me.
There’s a title and a category for everything.
I S A A C Aug 2023
you look good in corduroy
but it looks better at the foot of the bed
you bring me so much joy
3 years deep, in our connection we invest
you look good slicked with sweat
make you work for what you get
you bring me so much strife
3 days, is that all I have left?
Megan Parson Mar 2023
Violet, like the bruises you've hidden.
Indigo, like the dark circles you've overwritten.
Blue, like the opinions they've seen zoned.
Green, like the jealousy you've known.
Yellow, like the golden cage you fly in.
Orange, like the red flags you've seen.
Red, like paint when you bleed.

Do we add colour to your life,
Or do you colour ours?
A women's day & holi write. Question is, can a few days make up for centuries worth of oppression? I hope we remember the women in our lives everyday, & not just on women's day. © Megan Parson 2023
I S A A C Dec 2022
i am a robot
stuck behind all these roadblocks
what came first?
the road or the blocks
i wish i didn’t give a ****
i wish i understood what it was
riddled with curiosity, plagued with confusion
never understanding the extent of my emotion
i am a robot
i am a token
i was made to be used
made to be broken
Zywa Mar 2022
Right after the first

news our ideas start running --


away from ourselves.
Collection "The drama"
Wilfred Oct 2021
Hello
said the jester with skin coated in yellow

he forgot to bow
to ghastly twist his body
for head to kiss to toe

the king began to snarl
the jester began to tremble
the guards gazed at the  gallow tree
I have no name for this poem, just the sudden rush to write maybe l would rewrite it in some future
Brett Jun 2021
Asleep at the pen
The world outside is a chorus of muffled voices
Throwing pebbles at my window
Unconscious mind swerving in and out of lines
Awake dream detective scribbles drunken ink confessions
Sleep deprived glutton for depression
A caution tape commotion for,
My broken heart bravado
Pill, Water,
Swish, Swallow
Simple sorrows warp me back to all my past tomorrows
Humans replaced by hollowed husks
Staring and sipping emptiness from a chalice
Delusional desperado, mounted on malice
His six-gun guitar strums,
Self-inflicted bullet wounds
Thoughts of a wandering mind
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