Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nayana Nair Jan 2018
Your severe gaze
resounds and echoes
the meanness only humans have.
But your hands melt at anything you touch
so that nothing,
even water,
is disturbed by your presence
in this world.
How did you learn
make that face
that kept people at distance
and kept them on their toes.
How hard was it
roam in this world (that you loved too much)
knowing everything would hurt you,
and knowing the defeat at the face of the war
that you never wanted
and you can never win.
How hard is it,
to burn the flowers
born out of your soul
only so people would
avoid the impending disaster
that you are not.
If you liked this poem, please support it on
http://spillwords.com/burn-the-flowers/

This is the first time my submission is got published online. I would be thankful for your support.
Svode Jan 2018
War
Through the walls, in the streets.
Contrasting forces in anger will meet.
Differing ideals will turn into action,
Only one will remain as a faction.
Hug ....
To feel the love
Hug....
To feel the distance
Hug....
To find the difference
Lyn-Purcell Nov 2017
I believe that no matter who you are, no matter how big or small,
there is a difference only you can make.
A philosophy I hold dear.
Seb Nov 2017
Somewhere out there
on a field, there is a tulip
more beatiful than any other.

Yet no one knows of it's existence,
it's just another flower

As winter approaches its life slowly fades away,
suddenly a hiker passes its way.

The withered flower goes unnoticed
Its just another dried up thing.
In the end noone cared about its beauty,
not the hiker, no worker nor the king.

It stood there very confident
However if that plant hadn't been there



nothing would be different
Diary of Jane Oct 2017
we live
under the same sky
we look at the same sky
yet we look at it
so very differently-
you might look at a cloud
and see an elephant's trunk
while I look at the same cloud
and see a little boy flying a kite.
Next page