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Ahmad Attr Dec 2020
It’s been five years you’ve been away
I look back and feel abashed thinking of those days
I was so silly
Little dumb lily
However, I still want to leave
Nothing ever changes here, you won’t believe
I am sorry, I must’ve thrown you out
I can’t deny it no doubt
I was in love, not only love, it was lust
Back then it was my first
After you I had many other romances
Nothing too serious just handholds and dances
I wish I spent time with you and not hide in my room
That I got to know you better before the impending doom
Where are you right now?
I hope you are happy and free
I still read your letter, hold it close to my heart
that you once sent to me

''I’m not going to lie that I felt slightly uneasy
A little girl constantly eyeing me whenever I was busy
And I know that you know that I knew about your agape
But you were the fox and I was the hanging grape
Truth is, I could never imagine you with myself
How could you love me, if you could never love yourself
I’m a tired journalist
Flop poet and mediocre analyst
I also know that you are fond of my forlorn poems
Maybe you are already writing poetry
You were never disgusting to me
your angst nor your coquetry
it is not alright to dismiss
the reality to get the true love’s kiss
and if you ever come to find me
I said it once and I’ll say it again
‘’You deserve better than this’’
A finale to a tragedy.
For full story please read:https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4114543/meet-me-under-the-bridge-10-poems/
Heavy Hearted Oct 2020
Amanda Catching;

 the unworthy Angels
as they fall-
     Is a job
         Only you
could do.
5 years later I find myself alongside, once more
the comfort that I never wanted to leave.

The compassion I mistook being no longer the false
virtue I came to age with,

Help
waiting for
me-
And everyone else; right where they've always been.

No longer was I

too young to see.
Mark Toney Mar 2020
In your parched desert land
As the pendulum swings
And your friends are all gone
Still you’re moving right along
Like it doesn’t mean a thing

In your parched desert land
Thinking life’s unforgiving
Why not swallow your pride
Take an honest look inside
Join the land of the living

In  your parched desert land
Your manufactured death valley
Kind response was so important
Yet your manner was discordant
Isolation’s blind alley

In your parched desert land
When they take the final tally
You’ll surrender the fight
Find exquisite delight
In your brokered finale


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
3/9/2020 - Poetry form: Rhyme - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Violet Smithe Mar 2020
Prep.
Weight on my back foot.
Leap.

The sound of the final chord rang out around me.

Silence.

All I could hear was silence.

As though the room was empty and I,
I was its only subject.

With a stillness in my heart I stood,
took my bow,
and left.
levi eden r Sep 2019
his name was luis.

i loved him for over seven years.
i fell deeper and deeper and for the first time in my life,
i was okay with it.

he is beyond beautiful.
i could write about when our hands touched or the way my face would get hot when we locked eyes under the moonlight.
i could write about him forever.

there is no one more beautiful than he is.
for he is all the stars in the world.

he is everything into one.

so absolutely and utterly
beautiful
instagram: @heavenforecaster
James Willings Apr 2019
These walls hold no comfort
For a man in my shoes.
They inspire no happiness,
And nothing but blues

I'm out of time,
Out of place,
There's no more devotion.
And with these words,
I make one final notion

No more will you cry
For now I move on.
You must understand,
This is my swan song.

But do not feel bad,
And rather, rejoice
For a massive finale
I'll conjure with voice

Let them come and take me
I know what I've done
But I also know
That I've sung my swan song
Zinnia Ali Apr 2019
Hear! Hear !
Far or Near

All in a row
Waiting for their turn
One goes after another

Into a place;
Freedom for some,
Prison for some,
Peace for some ,
Punishment for some,
Escape for none.

Be aware, Be ready;
Here comes your turn.
Badshah Khan Mar 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 65

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

A Highly Saint!
Whom they indeed achieve,
In his prime time not for an elongate period,
But it is constant forever till the time finale!

Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Em MacKenzie Dec 2018
I’m straining my arms and I’m pulling my shoulders,
from pushing each line and carrying our shared boulders.
And my hands are burned and skin’s scraped,
knuckles cracked and broken fingertips,
a few careless words escaped
and I wished to push them back behind my lips.

I’ve got the motor warm and running,
and the waves have settled as they should,
I write down just how I find you stunning,
I would voice it if I only could.

You ask if I’m confident and I tell you I don’t know,
can I make an impossible jump,
oh holy Holly, I don’t think so.
I’m no Henry, no Fonz, no Winkler,
I’m not a stunt performer on T.V,
I barely run through the sprinkler,
I sure as hell will find death in the sea.

The rope’s as tight as a fresh noose,
and my ski’s barely fit my bottom soles,
my hands are clenched just too loose,
I would prefer to be sleeping on coals.
The crowd’s cheers become a lashing,
blood dissolved into the water and salt,
an angry tail’s now thrashing,
my situation is entirely my own fault.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
desperation has never stood so stark.

I’ve glimpsed shadowed empty sets
and walked among great ruins,
I’m tired of swimming in regrets,
pretty please, can I hide in your flesh wounds?
I’ve been taking theatre classes
to act like I’m not terribly bothered,
but every beach goer casually passes,
my body that’s been brutally slaughtered.

I want to feel the water the way that I once did,
with carefree wonder like when I was a kid.
But I always hated the sand, and the way that it encased my toes,
but they’re calling me to set to stand, to see how this final shot goes.

The hoop is placed ontop of a mild wave,
I wish that they engulfed it first in flame,
they praise me for being so brave
but it’s I, not the shark, that is tame.
They’re calling out the term “action”
and I look for my highlighted script,
I only read a small fraction
before I thought it best to rip.

I’m jumping the shark,
without a trial run.
Leaving an infamous mark,
just before it’s all done.
I’m jumping the shark,
it’s the end to my character arc.
I’m jumping the shark,
cut camera and roll credits in the dark.
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