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Shakytrumpet Feb 2020
The world forces us to grow up
through agony and Pain.
Is happiness even worth it,
when you can lose it all again?
We try to cheer ourselves up,
though we know it's in vain.
We can never stay happy,
theres no escaping Pain.
this poem is a few years old, but i hope everyone reading strongly disagrees with younger Thomas
PS Apr 2020
It's crazy how someone can go from the person who taught me how to love myself
To the reason I wanted to die.
Emma Apr 2020
#3
bodies drop, no pulse
graves with no name inscribed on
downtown festive no more
With 54,938 cases, the state I live in is the state with the 3rd highest corona rate. The downtown of my city, which used to have plenty of events and people roaming the streets, is a ghost-town, something that never happened even when the marathon bombing took place. This virus is terrifying. Everyone, please be safe during these times. (I just made this haiku about 5 minutes ago. I actually meant to make a haiku for haiku day but forgot lol.)
Mitch Prax Apr 2020
I don't know
how to leave behind
all of these lingering feelings
that still dwell
from within.
Ursula Wolf Apr 2020
I could hear as the rigid solitude knocked on my window,
I stand up with my trembling legs and look out through the glazier blot.

Dark towers of the night looming, mantle the Moon's light
Of which fairies were buried by fiend  of the shadow.

The beast huddled,
And with that, solitude also forsakaned me.

Emptiness, that I became,
Like a void spirit,
Who is silently striked by the devistating fist of scarcity.

Since the Moon was locked up in a faraway cage...
Shoreless the dark night, which burns between us,
And racking me for an endless time.

I am a bird, which pursuing its warmth,
And flying trough the stiffed mainlands.

I am a sunflower, which lives for the Sun
And nervously golden colour of it
feared from others.

I am an asterisk, which devouted to the Moon
And relishing its dim beams.

But I would rather be a shooting star once,
Than a callow craven.

I would rather wait among Time's grains of sand that snaring backwards,
Than becoming a desolate corner of life.

I wish the solid smoke of darkness would just fade away,
So my blinking eyes would know where to reach for you.

Frigid the scrapering, destitute nothingness.

Only you could smelt me, like the sunny sky a bird.

Deprivation of yours is devouring me,
Like affection my sanity.

Please bring back the Moon,
Because the night is perishing my Sun.
Ursula Wolf Apr 2020
Humid breeze fell
Hard upon
Us

From there I heard
How descended
She.

Sonorous footprints
rushing towards
Me

From there I knew,
That for her came
They,

Mass-hurtled inquirers.
Before long said
I:

'Cannot be taken
Her!'

Over crown-blasted blaze
rushed
I

To the moist
street;

Taking
The eyes of
Mine,

Flickered
The world against
Me.

Reached they for
In my arms laying
Wings.

Thereupon I felt,
the groundbreaking
Hiss,

Which,
From envying
Eyes,

Hurled out
Itself in
Disguise.

From there I knew
That hasten must
I

Behind circumference,
Under immensity,
Before evocation.

And then revealed
She

The wings for the
Stars.

Flashing eyes reborned
Life,
Plumes hurtled the
Ground,
Skin-flares illumed the
Sky,
Goldening-hair had
Confound.

And then ran
I
Just against
Me!
Rose Apr 2020
I believe,
                             that our world
                             has been corrupted by greed,
           that to live our lives we look on while others bleed.
          
                                     I used to believe,
           that our world wasn't broken,
                               that kindness came free.
            When i got older I realized
                        people have motives you can’t see.

     I don’t believe,
                                       that we need
                             to pull others to their knees
                                so that we may be free.

         When did a life lose its value?
                     When did crys start going unheard?
    When did we stop caring,
                  about all the people that we have hurt?

                We know the harm that we do,
                   but it only seems to matter,
            when it comes me or you.

                  All that is said will never get through,
              because everything is accepted at face value.
         We prey on the meek to provide a feast,
  then say it’s their fault,because they are weak.

   People shouldn’t have to be afraid,
  of the ridicule they'll endure,
                           trying to save and be brave,                                                           ­                                           
             or how they'll provide when they stop getting paid.
                                    
   I used to believe,
             when I was young and naive,
       we were all given the same chance.
             How can I believe that now,
         when the world around me shares the same chants?
         Chants on superiority,
                  over those whose lives have been shattered.
  
                                      In a place like this,
                      how can I believe,that all lives matter?

    I wish I could believe
                          That I could do something to stop
                                    all this chaos around me.
            That in all this madness,
                             there is something else to blame.

                   At times like this we are forced to look at ourselves,
                        at all the times you thought,
                                       "This is insane!"
    Or said,
                              "they should be ashamed!”
                       What was it that had made you change?
                           Are they really the ones to blame?

            
         I believe we allowed ourselves to become part of the crowd.  
         Just another sheep in the herd without so much as a sound.
                         Why did we allow ourselves,
                              to be pushed around?
              
                                I wish I could believe
              that we will change years from now,
               that all our mistakes are in the past.
                                How can that happen?
         If we raise each generation same as the last.
Mitch Prax Apr 2020
Dear diary;
I moved house today
but I'm afraid my demons
followed me to the door.
Tonight,
the twilight seeps through the window,
the highway never sleeps and
the demons make their bed.
I am wide awake
again.
Mitch Prax Apr 2020
I am a single
soul yet I am split and my
heart has been splintered

11:02 PM
6/4/20
leo Mar 2020
waterfalls cascade over my shoulders,
under my armpits, between my legs;
gush out in torrents,
sloppily swirling down the drain.

red-hot blisters crack my skin, the back of my neck;
steam curls around my slumped, shaking body.

the cool bathroom tile does nothing to soothe
the burns of the boiling hot water.

i am bathing in a paradox;
the ice and fire together.

and yet i do not feel anything.
or perhaps i feel too much.

i wish i knew why i do this to myself;
why i must torture myself daily.

why instead of feeling relaxed after a shower,
i feel exhausted, and so, so, tired; my body
succumbing to the land of dreams and make-believe.

then my mother asks me,
like she sometimes does,
asks me, “are you okay, honey?”

i give that cliched answer every
single
time.

“i’m fine.”

that answer every depressed
fourteen-year-old girl gives
when they’d been found
staring blankly into space

when not only a few minutes ago
they’d been in the school bathroom
slitting their wrists and trying to stifle their
choked sobs.

perhaps i like feeling numb.
perhaps the numbness is the best escape.
perhaps feeling nothing
is what i like feeling.

this makes me laugh so hard
you don’t have to believe it
for it to be true:

isn’t it such a tragic thing.
that you lie so much.
and no one has a ******* clue.
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