Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mia Taljaard May 2018
The music had no voice
no rhythm
no structure
no beat
It was a familiar song
One that I might have liked to sing along to in the car
By an artist I found talented
But tonight as the chords runs from ear to ear it seems the lyrics had slipped from my mind
Tonight the music doesn't have to be good or catchy
Tonight the music doesn't need to make sense
Tonight the music simply flows through my bones without current
Aimlessly drifting through my numb body  
As the bridge comes along I close my eyes and put my head back
Tonight the music is an escape
a shield
a distraction
I focus my mind on the toll of the singers voice
to shut out the pitches from down the hall
Its all right and ok
I still love you today
and i dont want to go
But i dont want to stay

I would hate to say i love you and lie at the same time

Oh why oh why
Oh i
Oh i
Know the difference and it's different every single time

Oh why oh why
The motions and movements
The way that you say

Oh i
Oh i

Cant really stay

And I'd hate to leave
But baby please

Oh i
Oh i

Hate this feeling that you're giving ne
Copyright Matthew Marquis Xavier Donald  2/17/19
And when my darkness
Takes over a little more
Of the space then it usually does.
And the days become hard
To even get up and out of bed.
You light the way to the exit.
So that when I am ready
And able,
I can find my way back home,
Back to you.
The light keeper,
Of my storms.
Kale Feb 12
He is as hopeless as flying a kite made of clouds.
Now, some may say that that was impossible, improbable.
Some may even call it magical.
He did not see it that way.

In his eyes, he was as useful as a fraying rope.
Always on the edge of breaking,

His chest felt empty,
As if the dust left from his shattered heart had finally blown away.
The only thing there was his ribcage,
Trapping lungs that barely worked.

He believed he was hopeless.

To her, that was not the case.

She took his soul and painted grey and blue skies,
And used her own soul to glue him back together.

She flew her cloud kite proudly through the sky,
Doing tricks and running with it,
Smiling the whole time.

He is as hopeless as flying a kite made of clouds.

He is not hopeless.
Johnny walker Feb 12
Those people who talk about climate change and how they need save the world
But If we'd had more love for our fellow humans I believe this world and its climate would be In a much better
If you don't care for fellow humans why would we have any concern about our climate
But seriously think we're already to late the damage already done to much pollution over years before the dangers were
Dangers not reliesed of pollution till far to late
now we're fighting for a dying world
i am in love with the ocean,
and while he is beautiful and strong,
he is turning my heart into a cliff.
eroding me away,
bit by bit.

— i'm afraid soon there will be nothing left

this was written a couple weeks ago, enjoy
Skywlkr Feb 9
For I Cry One More Time Seems
To be a Never-ending
As The Tears Flow The Words
Won't Go
I Never Knew just How many
I Know
And My Pain Seems To Be its
Own Show
For When it's Written Down the Words
Do Oh So Glow
So Forever Writting it's a good way of Fighting a good way of Surviving...........    
And Sometimes my Words Seem...........
Just Like the Stars they Can be SHINING!!
it's a Great Joy this Rhyming Toy
This writting is Personally Frightening
But with them Comes the Finding
Hunter Feb 4
A sudden burst of sound jolts me from sleep,
I am now awake and listening closely,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out,
car doors close and someone swears outside my door.

The home alarm beeps and I know mother is home,
and through muffled voices I hear her and my stepfather,
I poke my head out my door and can see her defensive stance,
she is ready to explain her late arrival,
dressed in nice clothes and her hair still groomed,
a stark contrast again her grimey boyfriend with stains down his front.

It is the same as usual,
an argument about the workload divide in this house,
mother is crying and her lover is screaming,
and neither consider the children watching.

A turn towards the stairs and I close my door,
I climb back into my bed and his words burn into my skull,
and mother’s crying as permanent as always,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out.

Always defensive and never offensive,
mother will never have control of her life.
my english class required me to write a poem based upon Kay Smith's "Family Group", basically 4 stanzas (introduction, description, actions, closing) then two lines passing judgement. it had to be about an event we witnessed but were not directly a part of.
Alaska Feb 1
She told her
about the way her words
make her actions way more reasonable.

About the feeling
she gets when leaving the room
but taking the words with her.

About the thoughts
spinning and spinning
but never stopping.

She wanted to tell her
about the importance
of her words.

About the meaning
her actions have
and will always have.

About the cold
that gets a bit warmer
every time she looks at her.

About the courage
and faith
that she restores in her.
sushii Jan 31
Shall one dare to raise the question,
"What is the legitimacy of His Majesty's ruling?"
One would surely be relieved of their head.

'Tis alright, however, since there is still freedom.

"What such freedom exists, when one cannot question another?"

Much freedom still exists in other aspects, so fear not, ignorant one.

Anyways, you should have no reason to question His rule,
For you have served this kingdom well, my feigning innocence.
You, sir, have done wondrously in raising your sword to the enemy.

"But, Father, if I may interject, how come I do not feel free?"

You swore your blood and marrow to the wealth of His Majesty,
And now one such as you dares to raise that prickling question?
You shall have your freedom in due time, my withered husk.

"Father, who is the Majesty?"

You do not ask of the King's personal affairs.

"But, respectfully, I do want to know who it is I am fighting for."

You are fighting on the behalf of our country, for the greater good.

"Father, that does not answer my question. Who is he?"

Fine, my woeful son--do you wish to know who the King is?
He is standing right in front of you,

And he orders your execution.
Next page