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Save your tears for someone
who can comfort you as they fall.
Don't waste them on someone
who can't even cry for themselves.

Save your laughter for someone
who can laugh along with you.
Don't waste it on someone
who's forgotten how.

Save your bright smile for someone
who will appreciate the gesture
Don't waste it on someone
who's smile is never true

I'll give you a single piece of advice, my dear:
It would be a mistake to fall for someone
who cannot fall for you.
Amy Oct 5
i met an old lady on the street one chilly morning,
she asked if i cared for my mum
i pondered over why she would ask me this
i looked at her directly in the eye and saw:
loneliness
but glistening in her knowing eyes there was also:
tenderness.
kindness.
humbleness.
And i wondered why the world left her pretty soul aching
Unfortunately, in the modern world this is how parents are being treated when they become weak and old. They become forgotten souls, just like the rest of us will be one day.
Spike Harper Oct 4
These lungs have known.
Breathlessness.
A floating feeling that gives pause to struggles.
Experienced wind leave so quickly.
That space seemed to reject life itself.
Even when retracting the icy stalagtites back into a living cadaver.
Did it seem less horrific when under a microscope.
Focusing on a single point makes the big picture invisible.
Hiding behind layers of memories.
Doesn't ensure the years they promised.
Just more things to add to a collage that. No one will see.
How does one plead with inevitability.
Fate is supposed to come knocking.
But when home is no longer standing.
It looks more like a wave goodbye.
And so these feet come to the next precipice in which was foretold so many pages ago.
How strangely comforting that knowing a pain lessens it's return.
So now it matters very little because it's not an if anymore.
The sign says stop.
But the road is long.
With room for only one.
At least no one will see the tears.
...
Josiah Bates Oct 4
The sky over peach hill
Was dulcet last I looked,
Without a hint of clammy March
In the middle of a bright July

The sky over peach hill
Had clouds surrounding the kites,
My girl and I would stare for hours
As hot-air balloons passed by

That sky over peach hill
Ever soft, ever sweet.
That was the place where I found
That life passes in a sigh

The peaches fell,
And august came.
My girl went away,
I was left behind.

The sky over peach hill
Looks a little darker now.
But I know once winter ends
The kites will fly again
Bhill Sep 29
Coming to the rim
The rim that suffered through time
Eternity, gone

Gone and in the past
In the past and now absent
Forgotten, forthwith...!

Brian Hill - 2019 # 245
Are you at your rim yet?
The day
That one day
The day that you were there but gone at the same time
The day where i thought you would still be here in my tomorrow
as how you were in a my yesterday.

Now your not my yesterday and you're not my tomorrows
your not under, but in a way beneath.
You're beneath my thoughts. Under my every surface.
In my head but not to be infront of my eyes.
How can someone or something so special
turn into something thats beneath a thought.
Something so far from a surface but
still be considered the surface of everything
You are the deeper surface underneath all the layers that i don't have to hide.
Always beneath my mind.
Emily Miranda Sep 24
like the sun into the night you where gone
like a bird taking flight you where gone
like the moon in the light you where gone
only because I didn't open the doors for you
because I refused to give you the key
because I was scared
scared you'd do this to me.
Empire Sep 23
I'm angry
maybe furious
painfully jealous
because I can clearly see


I have been left out

time and time again


I see you all
I hear your stories
you all have fun
enjoy each other's company
drinking, dancing

but me?
I'm at home
doing nothing
pretending I didn't want to join
because I'm good
I wouldn't want to indulge a bit
I wouldn't want to be invited
of course not

what's wrong with me?
what is it that makes you all assume
that I don't want in on the fun?

I'M LONELY

Even just some company would be nice
but it would seem
I'm unwanted
I'm undesirable
I'm a buzzkill

I'm useful,
but c'mon

you know you don't want me around
will you all just say it?
because clearly something about me
sends off some sort of signal
that I ought to be left out
forgotten

do you even realize how often i'm forgotten???

P   E             R     S     I      S       T         E       N         T
C       O        N        S       I    S      T   E   N         T

and you know what?
I'm jealous
I'm angry
I'm upset
because EVERYONE forgets me
I'm just not memorable
I'm not fun to be around

WELL YOU KNOW WHAT
IF YOU WERE PARALYZED BY ANXIETY
IF YOU WERE CONSTANTLY DEPRESSED
IF YOU WANTED TO TEAR YOURSELF APART
IF YOU HAD PEOPLE PLAY WITH YOUR MIND
IF YOU FELT ANY MISTAKE DEMOLISHED YOUR WORTH
IF YOU WONDERED IF YOU OUGHT TO JUST DIE

you wouldn't be much fun either


but at least someone might care about you
I think I'd like to cry...
It hurts to be forgotten,
Excluded...
Aaron Elswick Sep 23
Is it... Irony?
My life is language
and I have no words for you.

Erasing each little quip
before it reaches my lip
only echoes

A thousand lines for you.

The precedent muse,
and you won't see them
even if written
you won't see them
deleted.

I feel defeated

By myself and my hands
by my words
with which the short line spans

I feel deleted

Concieted

As if it's my defeat to posess.
As if the story is in reference to me.

But it was ours
and now it's not.

You won't see it.
The words won't rhyme,
because it's not our song anymore.

It's a memory
Fading into the background
Frequencies slowly dying out
against the scenery
as our ears get too old to hear them.

We'll remember differently every time
we think of it again.
Until it's different again.
Over and over,
until the echoes are a whole new chorus.

A different memory.
And the spark will be dead again.
In another new way.

I'll always be sorry.
Then I'll remember it
and type it, and delete it.

And we'll forget it, but we won't.
We'll hear the echoes
and won't have the words.

Deleted.
Ally Sep 21
Sorrowful tears
happy memories of, almost forgotten times - to you
but, I remember
all of you

Unruffled
I sit here
with weepy, emerald eyes
in my delicate solace
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