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Been lost too long to find the right road
To save squandered time thrown away
Backtrack the past but I'm wasting the present
Cannot erase regret
Tried every which way
I am so stuck right now
Andrew Rueter Mar 2021
I’m with you every day
you could say there are days I’m not
but those are just lapses in time
where the sun and moon
rise and fall
over your presence and absence
while I’m drifting through time
to drift with you.
Nidhi Jaiswal Aug 2020
every night he come like an UNKNOWN,
an go on morning like an UNKNOWN,
what will i do with this dream EVERY NIGHT,
you were not mine!
why do you come like this FALSE DREAM,
sneak trough the DARKNESS of NIGHT,
touching my skin!
rubbing me!
kissing me!
what should i do about this dream,
that never happened!
EVERY NIGHT it come to my dream and leave in MORNING!

This poetry is based on imagination,
Of someones life in the way to express their love.
Thanks for reading.

OmRh Jun 2020
Just like any other night
I sit down
dig a hole in my head
pick up a buried memory
begin to
torture it
gnaw at it
until it begs me
to stop
William de klerk May 2020
Every  late night filled with bliss
is etched in red
like lipstick from a stolen kiss
on the white of this bed.

Every single grey smudge shows
a world of lows written in pencil
but still I see those highs
clearly in my murky memory.

Every scar slowly branded into
burnt skin that eventually healed
are tally marks for the demons I slew
and hint at battles that will not yield.

Memory made
World written
Battle beaten

Stained, Smudged and Scarred
A blank and Boring canvas
David P Carroll May 2020
As I cry I watch
My family die
As the president laughs
With joy playing golf
As loved ones die
Coronavirus disease is here
Coronavirus everywhere
Suffering every day
Feeling the pain every day
Nobody is Safe
The unknown is here
No more happiness
And joy
Coronavirus is here
Our loved ones
Taken away
As Coronavirus has arrived
Sadly it's here to stay..
Coronavirus Disease
R.I.P Everyone.
blushing prince May 2020
a sink with broken eggshells at the bottom
skin turning flush red from the inside goo
always making you itch
because everything is so nervous
if it wasn't there would be no purpose
no jackknifing or tossing
no thrashing or abrasive arm wrestling
to feel a stillness inside your stomach
like an eye of a storm
patiently smug
because  the turbulence is never
only around

the debris will never hit your cornea
no splintered pupil
always wanna be tender
but I think brave is best
did this poem just write itself, is more needed?

every day is holy, you just need to reason why!

could it be:

laundry day, a fresh starting, a new cleansing sparking

stroking her face, squeezing her apple cheekbones, smile extracting

making kissing her forehead, caressing her thumb knuckle, into a weapon of holy war

early to rise, coffee maker man, a saint she declares, from night risen

tracing her heart’s shape with a memorizing fingertip, transferable
to your own graying forested chest

happy new day, an everyday celebration; Happy Lockdown Day!
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