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Ren Sturgis Jan 25
Sometimes I feel so empty inside, and it makes me want to delve deep within myself and hide.
Most days I want to cry, but every single day I try, to repair my heart and soul till I make it whole.
To replace what has died only makes me feel alive, to feel better in life, to progress and strive.
Still sometimes I feel empty inside, like the ocean at low tide, when I've lost my dignity and pride,
On love and happiness I rely.
A piece of me gone, and search for it I might, every night to be filled with just a bit of light.
Kamal Dec 2021
Pity is petty
A wasted emotion
Pity is unsettling
An unwanted charity
Pity is vile
A hurtful reminder of failing
Pity is a rusted sword
Cuts one’s  dignity
Slices one’s self respect
Leaving traces of aches and blood
Drop by drop
For the rest of time
Pity is never ever needed
My dearest friend
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, no one knows you better than yourself:}

you know inside

you know outside

of yourself fears of the dies

they come to a fatal end they cry

letters on night candles lit

not even legal to spit

not sure if I can handle this not a bit

a mad house on the blacks

on dug wholes on the ***** slacks

problem with dignity

pride on admitting the consequences of this troubled malignity

I suffered with You, Belarus, my beloved,
When a police baton *****
You at the police station,
In full drill.

I was there when they fired at You,
When they killed the helpless
On the street without mercy,
In envy, in anger.

I was when they beat with a baton,
When they hit the eyes with a baton
In the police torture
Or in the yard by the wall.

I was when they beat uncontrollably,
When the lying, despite wanting to
Prove his innocence,
Got the fifth stick in the bone.

I was when they took off the woman’s
******* and were pushing a baton there,
And in the man’s ****
It was being inserted - until the whine.

I was when they beat one in the forest,
The spirit still carries me there,
I saw hundreds lying in the alps,
I saw the dead in the halls.

Hospitals ...

It was the baton of Łuka,
Which *****,
Which killed,
Which beat,
Which knocked out teeth,
Which bruised,
It was the baton of Łuka.

The bullets were Łuka’s,
The hands were Łuka’s,
I give the large double doors back to Łuka:
Let you be rotten in a bad way.

The baton was Łuka’s.
It was the baton of Łuka.
The baton was Łuka’s.
It was the baton of Łuka.

You wronged a simple man,
And the walls will collapse anyway,
It's not balderdash,
Oh, you ignoramuses,
Oh, you ... stupid.

Oh you the bows! ...
Oh, you, Łuka (the Bow)!
Jamesb Apr 2021
It's funny how hospitals,
Whence one goes to heal
Or die,
Focus ones mind upon
Profound things,

Life and death for sure
But also the life that's been lived
The life being lived,
Being dead and also
The process of dying,

I do not wish to die
In a hospital ward,
I have seen this and
I have heard it
And it is horrid,

Let me pass good Lord
In the arms of a beautiful woman,
Or the embrace of a wooden boat,
With sails full and ocean spray
All about me,

Let me die astride a galloping horse,
Or in the metal clashing of swords,
The crack and ping of an airsoft war
Or the twang and thud of archery,

Let me pass on a zip wire Lord,
With the scream of a block
In my ears,
Or wining and dining
With my loved ones,

Any of these things Lord will do,
Or anything else the same,
But let me die while living Lord,
Not on a hospital ward
In shame
Some musings while waiting on test results...
kiran goswami Mar 2021
I like women's day.

It is the only day,
When men finally respect women

For 24 hours straight.
Brittany Ann Jan 2021
I try to tell you

in the most subtle of ways

of how I struggle,

my dear beloved,

of why I am pained,

of where that I go when my mind has gone,

of what I want from you,

in these subtle ways

that doesn't compromise

with my own dignity.

That doesn't also expliot

my very dependency

on what I need,

of what I beg of you.

You have pleaded to me

a time before,

to tell you,

to show you.

But, I have tried to tell you,

my love,

in the most subtle of ways


you do not hear me.

You will not hear me,

will not see me,

in a way-

Oh my dear love!-

that would also

spare me my dignity.
Mystic Ink Plus Jan 2021
May be simply unfair
But I punish
With no mercy
For goodness's shake

With full reliance
I stay afar from some people
I wish to meet them
In next timeframe
In next dimension
In next pathway
In next lifetime
From the START

It's like this
Genre: Experimental Abstract
Theme: So it is
nowadays indeed
man’s tested by words and actions
so be respectful.
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