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JRF 7d
I'll remember the time,
When your words and smile,
Made me new.

It makes my chest sink,
In agony of what could have been.
A love I wanted to give,
That fell, pointlessly.

I still fell for her,
Even when she told me not to.

I'll remember the time,
When the words that escaped my lips,
felt like the perfect me.
Now only letters remind me of her voice,
Poetry for me.

When every word I used was for her,
And they ran out.
A drift of space,
A burning drought.

I'll remember the time,
When I told myself to stop writing about you.
If you feel something for someone, tell them.
for so long, i have been watering my own petals
aiding in my own growth
soaking my roots with positivity and love
growing to my fullest potential

and then you came along
and i thought you would continue to help me grow
but you put me into a drought
leaving me thirsty and gasping for air

now because of you
my petals are wilting away
from your harsh abandonment and apathy
and my soul will now rot
because of this terrible lonely drought
hindering my growth
and leaving me utterly and completely helpless and alone
how can i grow when you are pulling me back
Your bliss turns to blues.
You're in the bottom
but now you know
your only way is up.

Your warmth turns to drought.
You can pour gasoline
in the dying fire inside of you
to feel warm again.

Your love turns to lost.
You may have lost in love
but in the first place,
you found it.

They say, the only thing
that is constant is change.
But can bliss, warmth, and love
be constant........ for a change?
sorry if my flow is kinda ~c h a o t i c~ my thoughts are scattered while writing this.

i love how writing for me is like an equivalent of screaming your lungs out on top of the building, or it could be like drinking a cup of tea.
MU Nov 2018
The well of poetry is dry
And the oasis
Who was once blooming around
Dead

Where is the rain?
At least the soft wind
The brings hopes of verses

Where is the night
That at least
Cools the burning sands
Of thoughts

Lost in the desert...
Of poemless dreams
Nothing>>>
seethroughme Oct 2009
your eyes look bleached
as you stare
your glance running
along the puzzlecracks
into the dustfields
dancing on the
bone
dead
earth
seared and cauterised
no longer waiting
for rebirth
your eyes are bleached
with the eternal search
the agony of drought
SelinaSharday Nov 2018
@Reading... "Ink!"
As I stop to stare.
I see a title where.
I wonder what it means..
I pause from browsing to read.
I see what ink drops bleed.
I decide to click open and proceed.

I read what ink drops bleed.
The brilliant thoughts. emotions, and seeds.
Allowing my thoughts and emotions to feed.
Drip drops I'm reading..
Where black and white words are leading.
Succeeding to the end.
Cleverly where it all soon ends.
I'm left with a vivid mental picture.
As my feelings were captured.
A door I entered.
Reading gives me clarity.
Exploration, I let my fingertips reply.
I comment, like and love.
The title that caught me up above.

Such a beautiful layout, drops of ink spread all out.
This dear ones is what readings all about.
Ink drizzled inks in drops.
Spreading magic, removing doubts,
Let your fingers show you where there, leave some plops.
Let your fingertips drip drop plops.
Give some love where you are reading.
So more drips and drops will be succeeding.
For the love of ink drops please keep on reading.

SelinaSharday Rose@H.E.R
Those black and white cleverly laid ink drops, ink drips and drop fancy, funny, clever, deep, stirring, moving, emotional, shocking, touching amazing, soul moving ink drops.. don't leave them unwatered unnoticed in a  
dry drought. spread some ink drops..plop plop plop.
Girard Tournesol Nov 2018
The wind is full of shallow nothings
Drought, fire, vermin, climate, poverty
Rustling the leaves with a gossip
Deep roots will never hear
Offered in the age of "alternative facts."  Peace.
Evan Leonhard Oct 2018
A rushing river
turned to a trickle by drought
flows once more in rain

a creative mind
clouded and clogged by comfort
flows once more in pain
Amare Leslie Oct 2018
your silent absence
is a ***** tree trapped in an april drought
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him all through the land:
"This way leads to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes the night time of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When this pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash on the shores like the sea.
Written in August, 2016.
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