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Katelynn Oct 2020
I cannot give anymore
With the words in my brain
That call me insane
That makes me feel pain
Something I can not explain
I cannot give anymore

My heart is too big
But that’s not enough
My mind is too sick
Alone that is rough
My lungs that hold air
Are hard to compare
To make me aware
That I am still there

They say you are useful
When you are around
Filling their needs
Even when you are drowned
With water in lungs
Your heart on your sleeve
Tears that leave stains
You mind locked in chains
I cannot give anymore

And though my light is dim
And my life seems grim
A breath of fresh air
A break from despair
Where things seem calm
Time ticks like a bomb
I remember a day
A reason to stay

I cannot give anymore
A light that was dim
Shot off on a whim
Filling with light
Starting a fight
My lungs fill with air
My brain starts to care
Winning the war
I know I can say

I can give more
This poem is for the people that are empathetic. A person with high empathy just gives more and more even with they have none themselves. Feeling the energies of others they cannot help giving more. Just a big heart in a cruel world.
Pax Apr 2020
Why do i feel much and yet experience so little.
Perhaps its been a Curse, being to sensitive at times...
With pathetic attempts at empathy,
I'll try to feel what you're feeling.
Equally ineffective: sympathy,
I'll feel sorry for your situation.
'Maybe I can help,'
I say, knowing full well I can't.
It'll leave me feeling pathetic.
Over not being __pathetic.
For: Frances Lefevre
Mark Toney Nov 2019
~In memory of Avy W (1981-2019)~

Oh, my dear, short Avy with a long "A"
I just learned of your sad demise today
Full seventy days since you passed away
Dark news eclipsing such a sunny day

Last visit ended with you hugging me
October's visit now will never be
Hopes, dreams, goals cast aside as mere debris
Life cut short, stolen by the enemy

Your husband and son together do mourn
Your mother and father both so forlorn
Thirty-eight years from the time you were born
Your young, precious life from each of them torn

You will always remain forever young
Forever precious and forever fun
Forever kind, empathetic and sweet
Forever found where love's memories meet

May future's reunion as tender be
Now forever safe in God's memory
8/21/2019 - Poetry form: Lyric - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Alex Sep 2019
First things first,
When problems can't seem to get worse,,
An unmistakable feeling of despair & lack of courage,
Comes forth,
Before unbearable growing thoughts burst,

Here is a bit of friendly advice,
I know a marvelous church,
Where they praise and rejoice,
With the utmost love,
All in the name of Christ,

Let me tell you about their devout leadership
What could it hurt?
Pastors preach with guidance of the Holy Spirit,
Along with practicing,
Each and every aspect of the word,

You couldn't begin to fathom or explain,
How they constantly remain selfless,
Willing to help no matter day, night, sun or rain,
Without the slightest pinch of selfishness,

Don't think for a minute,
That they could ever be replaced,
It would be the same as a car without an engine,
What good is the body, if it has no face,

Hope this brings some people to a realization,
About the things I'm hesitant to mention,
Such as my life being plauged by the devil's terrorization,
Until they helped save my soul with nothing but Devine Intervention,

To all facing complication and tribulations
Be it from fear of revelation,
Maybe a wealth situation,
Something as serious as health degeneration,
Students struggling with education frustration,
Feelings of isolation due to lack of affirmation,
Or difficulty coping a separation of relation,

Seek solace and consolation,
Because the truth is that it's all God's intention,
Including our pastors helping guide us to our final destination,
Finally bringing unification,

Let us show our appreciation,
By displaying gratification for those who lead our congregation,
For unimaginable amounts of their dedication
Best of all is their aspiriation,
To do all they can to help us find peace in salvation,

With that being said I want to thank them,
They are loved in the fullest,
They deserve nothing less,
Than a standing ovation,

Quite longer than my other works. Wrote in thought of two family pastors. I wrote it for my grandmother so she would have something to present to them on pastor appreciation.
Momin May 2018
i feel,
apathetic right now
i feel,
emotionless right now
and it's scary. it's scary to feel, nothing,

i tried to preserve my innocence as much as possible,
but, in what i've seen, throughout childhood, my innocence was like
gutted and killed.
and that also is pretty scary
cuz i feel like
along with innocence, things go hand in hand, like
happiness, and love
and i think moments of love don't last forever but,
nothing lasts forever.
but in the moment, love and sharing it really,
it puts you in a place like,
kinda like another dimension where,
you and this other person can,
let loose and do anything.
i like,
text this girl
and uhm,
it's scary to say the least,
cuz i don't want to admit that i depend on her, but i do
and depending on someone is scary because they might not depend on you so you just,
are stuck, waiting for this person to call back, when they have other people in their life. and i'm really antisocial, so i don't have many people.
and like,

i just feel scared for my future.

it's really messed up cuz you get so lost in someone.
that the only way to get out is to just,
delete them.
because you can't really delete people from real life.
i mean you could,
and it's ******* horrible.
thank you.
"even the most ironed door can be opened"
he said: "maybe I'm not the key you were looking for, but I'm the key you need"

behind plenty-ironed door
there's the carpet streched on floor
and the door itself it's locked
trodden by the savage cold.

but inside it is as cold
as the man forgot the hearth
and there's nobody too bold
to fulfill the chimney's glow.

on the walls I see your pictures
memories with your belonged
with their wings against our curse
fainted down, when the time have bonged.

from outside I see a ruin
a poor house ready to fall
and I hate that you're not doin'
and refuse your only call.

back inside, I see the carpet
outstretched down, being still trampled
by your once beloved and left
it is ******, without a hope
triggered by your burdened rope.

near the pictures stands the clock
counting down your priceless life
with your mind against your soul
so's the hollow 'gainst the whole.

why you keep your ironed door
locked up, fallen in knees
with your carpet
burdened on the floor
when the-entire house still seek
for your own evanesced keys?
Just Melz Aug 2016
In the corner
Staring into an abyss
       of pointless options
And all the edges
       in the world
Aren't sharp enough
       to cut through
The concrete wall
       surrounding her heart

In a crowded room
Searching for an empathetic face
She sees the smiles
        filling the empty space
And it seems
        that no amount of joy
Is real enough
        to take the fears place
Tanisha Jackland Dec 2015
I reach  
into you
searching for
something familiar

We have forgotten
we were
once inseparable

All of us
rising out of  
the great expanse

We’ll live again
like the stars
born again
on the
We are stardust.
Living in a world of invertebrates
A shadow that reeks cologne
Upon those who reek none
The benefactor of the scent
Is for himself, herself, both, or nil?
A fool in the box
No time to help
But time enough away for a guilt to shine
But outside shines introspection?

A plastic model
No generosity for a spine
Two hands in beyond displace
A smile where it should grace
Asleep in a heart of a child
John Archievald Gotera © 2015

This poem is available in my poetry compilation, One Flesh One Bad Costume.
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