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Matthew Harper Nov 2024
Supposed to be a special day,
But I think it's all the same.
Do you think that in any way,
You could light this dying flame?

A year has passed,
Yet I'm the same.
It's not my last,
Still in the frame.

A younger me is left behind,
Truly, I want to see a smile.
My soul, my heart is still so kind,
Yet I can't smile for a while.

I should be happy on this day,
Should be excited for these gifts.
But nothing now goes in my way,
Things have happened, many shifts.

I don't feel happy anymore,
I do not cry any longer.
I have no one to adore,
To help me grow stronger.

And yet, I live another day searching for my dream,
And yet, I live today still searching for ambition.
And yet, Still I want it, to quiet down this scream,
And yet, I manage here to stay, still searching for my mission.

I just hope to find my way,
To have the strength to live today.
Midnight Zoomies Oct 2024
I looked for you
in other people.

But,
you weren’t there.

So, I’ll wait,
still, in the space between us,
until you feel the same.
This poem captures the quiet ache of seeking something essential in others, only to realize it's unattainable. Suggesting patience and a lingering hope that the other person might reach the same understanding someday.
Marcus Oct 2024
In this damp pen.

Where the children had left.

A sound. Flapping. where the pigeons go to rest.

The husk of the moon looming, like of bird of her nest.

The sun. Drained of her light, preparing for the plight soon to come.

For this moment. When she dies. And cannot fly. She glides down with grace.

Like a bird, of light. Flapping away from. Sorrow. Is the night.

She gives— a breath, of soft and quite.
As the moon engulfs her flame.

A shadow of you is left to gloom. The hollow sky.

The earth has wept, and this bench had two.

The warmth that she couldn't concive.
Was taken from you—
A given. A fruit.

Please hold me. For without you I could cry.
Tilting my head to the sky.

In disbelief.

The sky, empty. Nothing but nothing.

For you and me.

Could be given between me and me.

For outside this pen.
Is an illusion. Nothing but a view.

And pigeons too. Flapping.
I wrote this poem in a short period, I wanted to convey a mirror of human condition. The longing for a connection was an important aspect for me and I found it fitted beautifully within the text.

I'd love some honest feedback and to see your opinions on it.
Hanzou Oct 2024
He gave her everything, or so it seemed,
Love poured out like rivers in the quiet stream.
But now she only recalls the storms, the rain,
As if all he ever brought was pain.

He wonders if she sees the man he became,
Or if she’s blinded by the ghosts of blame.
Mistakes, he admits, he made his share,
Yet he changed, but she acts like he’s still there.

She tells the world of her heart’s disdain,
Of memories that still cause her pain.
But what of the moments he held her close,
Of the love that endured when she needed it most?

She paints him in shades of darkness and strife,
As if he never added light to her life.
All the wrongs she remembers, clear and stark,
But what of the times he mended her heart?

He forgave the wounds she left behind,
The scars she carved, the battles unkind.
But now she turns, with anger so deep,
And casts him away, into shadows she keeps.

Perhaps it’s easier for her to forget,
The love, the kindness, the times they met.
For all that remains in her mind’s twisted maze,
Is the version of him that she couldn’t erase.
Shaezah Oct 2024
There is still an echo similar to a giggle.

So far away that heart can barely feel them and the mind can barely touch them. So faded away in the fog of despair, I embarked on a journey while floating on the waves of my memory.

Laughter so dying,

Residing in the corner of a decaying reminiscence.

Laughter so dying,

Erasing from the brain like a remembrance of a bird passing by.

Laughter so dying,

Sinking in the depths of hopelessness.

Laughter so dying,

Misery feeds upon contentment and serenity is overwhelmed by emptiness.

Laughter so dying,

It stays in our chest forever, slowly building a house, now called grief, that once was home to decaying laughter.
Emery Feine Oct 2024
They should really invent a place where I belong.
Not one with entirely sunshine and rainbows,
God knows I've prayed too little for that,
But one where
I fit.
I don't stand out,
But I'm still my own person
And not that me that I've shown others,
Deceived them for far too long.
My fixation with belonging
It's like a need
That will never once be met.
And I'm left starved and ravenous
For just an ounce of it
And its empty calories
this is my 127th poem, written on 10/11/24
Moo Oct 2024
I hide myself away so beautifully,
So I am perceived as an art form and nothing else,
Mimicking a mannequin,
An undeniably inhuman Facade upholds me,
A mere antique is all I can claim to be,
Inhabited in which is a crack,
That i pledges to veil,
Until,
Draps are drawn,
And amused audience embrace their ways to home,
Laugh.
Smile.
Don't pay attention to the pain of depression.
Don't brood on the things that force emotional concession.
Try to act average, don't draw attention.
Remember, seeing a loved one suffer can be harder on others.
Like thick smoke in a house, it brings tears and it smothers.
So when you feel empty, put on a smile.
It won't help yourself, but it might spare some pain for your sisters and brothers.
Just because you feel it, you don't have to show it.
The pain can be non-contaguous if no one else knows it.
Just make no important decisions while you're feeling below low.
You can't take that route, that's not how I'll go.
Just fight the good fight, and try not to cry.
That just makes things worse, I don't know why.
You have Hope, just keep the Word in your heart, and your eyes to the sky.
Things will be painful but this too shall pass.
Life is good, even though I feel low.
Keep this in your head:
Feeling low and alive, is better then getting high and then dead.
Yes, it seems obvious, but it had to be said.
If you keep these notes stored up in your head,
Then you'll seem less abnormal, more average instead.
Depression. (Just because I feel it, I don't have to show it)... mostly. Reading this made me laugh. It's just sappy. Hope you don't mind some sap. Rubbing alcohol is good for getting it off... ✌️
Emery Feine Oct 2024
I stepped into life's train station
But I hadn't noticed their scheme
And they took away my imagination
And they took away my dream

On the train I looked out the tinted glass
But the ride wasn't what it seemed
Because they took away my ticket pass
And they took away my dream.
this is my 104th poem, written on 6/4/24
Emery Feine Oct 2024
I say you'll do something soon
But for everything you seem to mind
How can this ever bloom?
Love isn't there if it is blind
this is my 98th poem, written on 5/10/24
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