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Zoe Mae Aug 2021
Why must I always think in verse?
Is it a talent?
More like a curse
All day long songs pour through my head
But before they hit paper, they're usually dead
A few survive, most get archived and others quickly deleteted
It doesn't take more than a couple of lines to know you've been defeated
Maelynn Jul 2020
Blessing or curse?
Spoken or verse?
Two pieces of a broken mind,
Searching for the power to find
What she knows is inside her,
The capability-
But in the end it comes
Down to ability,
And she hasn't found it yet-
Her brain is full of detailed worlds,
But how to draw them out?
Some may call it writer's block
But she has writer's drought.
an0nym0us Jun 2020
I flew above the horizon
Soar high with the eagles
Flew up high to cross the great sea
With my magnificent wings

I joined the clouds on the skies
I flapped and flapped tirelessly
To reach the paradise
On which I can almost see.

The eagles gracefully flew over the mighty mountain
They reached the other side
They have entered their destination
A beautiful paradise.

It is my turn to ascend like them
I charged, pushed myself higher
But I lost my grace, I hit a tree
I fell down to the dirt

I tried to rise from the ground but I can't
Tried all my might but my wings are broken
I can no longer fly
I can no longer land on paradise.
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
As I stare at blank sheets
To jot down my thoughts
Realize how alone I feel
Only friends are vacant lots

These restraints tighten around my words
Keeping in place
Long to leave their chamber
They're running out of space

I really want company
Singing solo to an empty room
The cage known as my conciousness
Lyrics of honest emotion attempt to bloom

Remembering yet unable to manifest
Moments sliding around mind
My suffering festers in seething sores
Until despair is finally defined
About having writers block when you really need to express something a certain way and you cant find the right words
Mrs Anybody Feb 2020
i am not
going to

i tried
to find
your socials

but it's like
you don't
even exist
it's frustrating, isn't it?

also check out my other poems!  :)
Jasmine dryer Sep 2019
Sit on the ground
watch the parade march around
go through the whole town
no one notices
that jugglers are choking
and the little kids are smoking
the balloons are deflating
everything escalating
and its so frustrating
but the pills are sedating
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