Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sara Kellie Mar 2019
When we first met you re-lit the flame inside my heart.
You gave me a need to survive and I never thought we'd part.
But this world is too ugly for me
to bear
and I don't want you to think that I didn't care.
So I wrote you this poem to explain to you why.
It wasn't anything you did and I don't want you to cry.
I'm sure you'll find a new home to stay where they'll give you your
food and a place to play.
Finally, try not to **** too many birds or you and I will be having words.
I'll be watching you from in the skies and every time it rains, that'll be the tears falling from my eyes.

Love from Mummy.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Megan Parson Nov 2018
Do eerie screeches startle you at night?
Or screaming banshees, your worst fear highlight?
Sudden rumbling on a rusted line,
Flashing lights that freeze your spine!

A full Moon on a motionless sky,
Tis when steam engines haunt nigh.
Departed, are its crew & passengers,
A grandma, wearing her dentures.

Chubby children waving goodbyes,
Fixed with icy cold eyes.
Stuck in speeding time,
Urging me to write this rhyme.

Waiting for that day,
When the bogies no longer sway.
...Written during a train journey...
Ooooooo Nov 2018
It is time for me to go, I have decided
To leave behind the world I've known
and to depart from it
But if in my absence you remember how I left
I would ask that you cast aside the memory of me
To never remember and to forever forget

...

Your departed friend
The way one leaves can in turn tarnish the memory others have of them completely. It may rest easier on that individual if they were to be forgotten entirely.
(Thoughts from the past :))
Sara Kellie Oct 2018
I'm here.
You lost your way kid
and I can't see you no more.
Did the lights go out?
Did the mist decend?
You lost your way kid
and I can't see you no more.

The light's back on
and the mist has gone
. . . and I'm here,
so I can see you once more.
I'm here kid.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Inspiration from 'Leave a Light On' by Tom Watson.
Nicole Bataclan Aug 2018
She was,
She used to be,

I still startle

There will no longer be
Any new memories.

I look up
When the skies cry
When there is not a cloud in sight

I talk about her in the past tense now.

Eye on my arm
God squeezes my heart,

I remember the feel
Of toying with her
Sagging skin
’Til mine ages,
I will beam at my ink.

I talk about her in the past tense now.

On nights I cry,
On fine nights
I burst with life,

She cradles my heart.
The uniVerse Jul 2018
Words are dead!
there I said it
words are dead
the words in your head
are in the past
the words that you said
will not last
fireworks that attract the eye
liar's words in the mind
an explosion of language
and then silence
they do so much damage
and cause violence
chasing words
feeling tiredness
healing words
are band-aids on the soul
a soothing to the ears
they're dropped in empty holes
for who hears?
who really listens?
words are dead
we have visions
images of creation
words are no salvation
just pointers
pointing to the infinite
still they loiter
words we can't forget
we hold them to our chest
like lifeless children
we always do our best
but the words **** them
and now all that's left
is dead...
dead words.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B0PHnWvHq_w/
toward thee spunky gal,
     whose impregnation and debut appearance
     way to brief a tale for Aesop
cuz, (umpteen iterations recounted),

     out the birth canal aye did bop
analogously compared
     to a mealy mouthed measly crop
a spindly tangle of arms and legs

     radiated (starfish like)
     dangled and would uselessly drop
like a raggedy ann male counterpart
     (raggedy andy - how original)

     with limbs that didst flop
and tis no small wonder, thyself as one
     newborn baby body electric
     easily confused with bony glop,

which skimpy weight
     leant convenience as sigh grew older
     to alternate jumping
     (ala pogo stick mode) and hop

from one skinny spindle shank leg to another,
     and manifold orbitz whip
     sawing round the sun
     bore witness to puny laughable specimen

     of a nerdy lad, who (in hindsight)
     grew long straggly hair,
     which NO ONE (except me) could touch,
     nor most definitely NOT lop

off (this fetish) compensation
     for very slight physique
     in dewed time begot
     pencil necked geek milksop,

now at an age prowl lix sing viz
     dragging, crawling, battling...
     slight abdominal bulge  
unlike widower octogenarian biological pop

whose once strapping superman
     like build atrophying (sad sight)
since grim reaper put objectionable stop
upon head of harriet harris,
    whereat two and a half score years
    her longevity did top.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
now, comb may tooth how zen,
sans eight plus ten
'twill be thirteen yars
when me late mum agonizingly relinquished

     an indomitable loo ving life,
     which strong fighting spirit
     (spittle and vinegar) yen
reached a juncture,

     (sans metastasized ovarian cancer)
     forewent heroic measures, which ken
not avail bottled anger within this sole son
telling thee, he didst love ye
     never communicating NOR often!
Imran Islam Dec 2017
You're breaking my heart
still then I am silent
You're making me tired
but I'm not worried
If you just feel like
I love you, sweetheart!

You don't care about me
but I still love you
You don't think of me
even then I miss you
If you just feel like
I'm there inside your heart!

I walk around and see you
if you ever look at me
I sing at midnight
if you ever listen to me
I'm doing well ‍so that I feel like
you're not falling apart.

If you ever feel like
I am not missing you
If you ever feel like
I am not crying for you
then you think about me
I am no more in this world
and just pray for my departed soul.
Next page