I am the one who was thrown out of hell.
The sins that I committed,
Here, my silence gonna tell.
Listen, you dear people,
Nothing in my life was ever simple.
Cursed being a birthmark,
I have been falling over a deep dark.
If it's in my heart or in my mind,
I wish to keep everything everywhere just aligned.
But wait, I am actually a sinner,
Roaming in this materialistic world being a grinner.
Crying so hard deep down inside though it's my dry eyes,
It's enough of stucking below the heavy skies.
For so many years, I heard my own screaming,
But this corpse ended up her identity without revealing.
For heaven, not designed
From hell, left behind
And this earth rejected her for mankind.
What is a writer without whimsy,
an artist without arrogance,
a poet without pain?
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
i was born
i lay in a cot
my heart beat rang
i sang and i sang
i gave my voice away
as i matured
naively i was lured
without a hood
naked, i stood
out of breath
looked for divinity
but nothing concrete
empty and bleak
but my eyebrows were on fleek
to an ideal
but i never lay still
but dreaming is to ****
**** your own insanity
**** your own vanity
please keep yo "sanity"
you don't have to say "i love you" to express your feelings
let the kiss and touch speak
risking everything is the most real thing of love in action
never give up on the right person for immortality of love
develops feelings doesn't have to be emotionally beautiful
it can grow slowly and painfully
the emotion of love has the heart to feel what it feels
it can tear up so easily
one mistake, one heartbreak
and you are done
let your action speak
the meaning of love doesn't have to be romantic
it doesn't have to be roses and a ring
love someone with action
action is real and strong
and you have your eternal
Eventually, we all become somebody else.
Some become the fathers they wished
to have had in their childhood.
Others become the mothers
they despised growing up.
Some become the friends
they kept a rat race with.
And some others become
the man or woman
they want to marry.
But you’ll get tired of it sooner or later.
Being a poet
is both a pain and a privilege.
All you do is
bleed your emotions
on a thousand pages
while people sing your praises
Only a poet will understand.
maybe you feel about it…
…the way i feel about it
we really dont feel
anything . . .
. . . at all
feelings . .
. . . to chase the truth
only to realize that
we’ve been standing in it
all along . . .
© Mahogany Ree
i can read
figured you out
also check out my other poems! :)
I wish I could feel something, anything.
I wish I could smile over a thought, a thought that is
as random as eating pizza with a fork.
I wish I could feel your touches on my skin; the tips
of your finger drawing aimless patterns.
My wishes are so simple but emptiness rules the corners of my days.
I wish I could feel anything, literally anything, but emptiness.
Ang nadarama'y isusulat,
Gamit ang aking plumang tanging panulat,
Sa bawat pagguhit ng letra,
kailanma'y hindi na magtataka pa,
ang pagsabay ng luhang pumapatak,
sapagkat ang puso'y may lungkot at galak.
Ang tangi lamang mithiin,
ay madama mo rin,
ang mga tulang isusulat na sa aking puso nanggaling.
Tagalog poem time 💜