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Isabella Feb 15
is it fair
for me to reach
for something i'll never be able touch

i'm talking about you
Thomas Steyer Jul 2021
Das Leben ist schön, aber auch schwer,
für manche zu kurz, für andere nicht fair.
Wenn es anders kommt als man denkt,
da ist der eine schon mal gekränkt.
Der andre sieht es mit Begeisterung,
so hat das Leben für ihn noch Schwung.

Aber wenn ein Virus die ganze Welt befällt
und alles zerschellt - das geht ins Geld.
Dann ist auch unser Wohlstand schon bedroht,
und die Lebensqualität gerät in Not.

Regierungen versuchen uns zu schützen,
auch mit Finanzspritzen zu unterstützen,
aber die Spritzen in den Oberarm
sehen Leugner mit größtem Alarm.

Nun dachte man, die Welt hat sich vereint
und kämpft gegen den gemeinsamen Feind,
doch gibt es Leute mit denen kann man nicht reden,
sie können alles stets anders belegen.
Sie meinen, auf die da oben kann man nicht zählen,
deren Plan sei, ihnen die Freiheiten zu stehlen.

Dieses Misstrauen könnte uns leicht zerspalten,
dann wäre ein Bürgerkrieg kaum aufzuhalten.
Wie könnten Leugner ihre Angst verlieren,
damit sie endlich neues Vertrauen riskieren?

Wir sollten gute Beispiele setzen,
uns kümmern um den Ersten und den Letzten.
So entsteht ein guter Gemeinschaftssinn
für alle Ausgegrenzten ein Gewinn.

Ein respektvoller Umgang miteinander, der oft fehlt,
ist was zählt, so sehr zählt, zählt und zählt und zählt.
mark soltero Aug 2021
do you read my cowardly letters still
the pain in my fingers i felt
time spent to tell you the love i have
it's fair to say that i can't be away
unhealthy longing to hold you
i wish things were better
your wounds are closing up
i noticed it the other night
thank you for holding me
when you touch me
everything feels fine again
i hope i'm healing your head too
i can't stand to be away from you
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the world turning inside out---no such thing as salted mint:)

like a wild hint

taste a glimpse of salted mint

tackle the caramel passions

cinnamon enchantment of imagines

no bit of lost roses

happiness in measured red doses

remain in the lavender's fair violet

to hesitate the sour act of deficit

to refuse the golden boil of the sun

bring a stop to the good from miscalculating the sum

                                                           ­                       -----ravenfeels
Twalib Mushi Apr 2021
I take my pen
As i want to stand still
Applaud their pain
Everything is against their will
For their lives they had a plan.

Being separated from their family
how they're starving
Do they deserve?
how they're suffocating
This isn't correct
how they become homeless
Nobody wants to address this
This isn't fair.

They become more than hopeless
Snatching away their rights
Burying their dreams
Dreams of the innocent children.
Hoshi Mar 2021
I dare not look at my hands
Why not?
The screeching of my head is louder than the banging of pots and pans
You're afraid of your own thoughts?
I'm afraid of who lyes there
You're afraid of a simple man?
I never said my thoughts were fair
You're afraid of your hand
I sought out death and now I'm all but bones
I can't help but laugh, was this not your plan?
Refrain from throwing your sticks and stones
You intentionally ended your own lifespan
I unintentionally gave myself skeleton hands
This poem is meant to be read with every other line, it's two voices. One is accusatory and the other is answering.
Simon Piesse Jan 2021
Said the gull to the Helter Skelter:
‘Did you know, when the oak was felled
You would, one day, delight a girl
With raven eyes, who’d lost her way
And wound up starting fires?’

The gull went on:
‘Did you know, when the oak was cut
This wayward girl would grab your mat
To climb the stairs of our own prayers
To outshine all the spires?
And, did you know, when boards were made
A dusty offering to the lathe
You would, one day, tease out the sap,
The wildwood sap within her bones
Confounding all the liars?

So, you should know, when planks were bent
Twisted, slotted, primed and painted,
That this lost girl would one day jump
Up higher than high flyers.'
Thomas Harvey Dec 2020
While walking through the tress one day
I stopped and wondered of life before
How little and close everything was to the core
And how precious words were to the say

Now it's lies that prevail
Truth is buried down below
Dreams die, just as rivers flow
But perhaps the worst is the ones we lose along the trail

Yes, I find many lost souls
My discoveries let them live, how they should be: FREE
For the old cliché, even the blind see
While the ones who stay, search for the loopholes

In reality we're all just trying to buy time
The ones who can't, say life's not fair
The others, well they don't really care
And me, Well I just do anything to make me feel fine
Anais Vionet Nov 2020
The flags are waving brightly,
hypnotizing the naive,
they shimmer like carnival balloons.

There are merry andrews waltzing,
to the themes of marching bands,
they’re camouflaged to blend in with the moon.

The party’s getting started,
so we better get in line
- the wind is breathing something like a sigh.

The smell of cotton candy
drowns out the barkers script,
and multicolored lights announce the mood.

There’s rain off in the distance
- you can feel on your skin
- the children refuse to stay in line.

Dogs are barking somewhere,
and lanterns dance like birds
- there’s nothing left to do but step in time,
two, three, four.

The tent is Chinese silk,
as silver as a coin
- acrobats take tickets with their lips.

The sawdust smells like bacon,
and the seats are way too small,
but the crowd is pushing in
because red rain is falling.

Elephants turn like dancers,
and trumpet to the night
- the sound shakes the world like my alarm.

Another **-hum morning,
soon the sky will tell a lie,
- that lemon light has something to proclaim.

My bags are packed for boredom,
the trip will last all day,
- there’s nothing left to do but step in time,
two, three, four.
what hides in dreams?
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