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sunprincess Aug 2017
Bullies will be met with fire and fury
Yet, it doesn't have to be this way
Each one of us is born with a human face
So, let's not rip our world apart
and become a sour ****
   Let's have a heart
Why do the women I meet later make me feel unlovable?
Finding out that truth makes me unstable
It makes me feel this uncontrollable rage for the opposite ***
Just like that breakup I experienced thanks to my ex
Do I not deserve love?
Will I forever be alone when push comes to shove
It's heart wrenching to think I'll never be happy
I'll never have that someone that'll someday have my baby
Will I never have a beautiful wife to wed?
Just because the women of the world make me feel worthless and unwanted.
It's sad but this is truly what I'm thinking now. Will I ever find the woman just for me? I'm tired of feeling worthless.  Is there no woman here that actually loves me?  ****!
Elise Jackson Jul 2017
Words seem louder when you whisper.
Day 14/31 of my "Six Words A Day" Challenge for the whole month of July, the whole collection can be found on my page on the first of August.
loggi Jul 2017
Deep in the forest sound
All is lost in mellow ground.
The birds don't chirp
And the leaves lay no alarm,
Deep in a place where none
Are ever harmed.

And the bark twists
In an awful way,
And the wind hisses
For travelers to go away.
Deep in a place
Of eternal stay.
Those who are brief
Never receive welcome.

All that you do,
Is never replayed.
All that you say
Gets buried in the ground.
No peeping eyes
No ears of another
Deep in the forest sound
You can let out
All that raging thunder.

A place of secrets,
Your only personal wonder.
Deep in the forest sound.
Jim Davis May 2017
Corner a badger
Face hell's beast in blind fury
Like love done a wrong

©  2017 Jim Davis
To read more about the nature of badgers read - John Clare's "Badger" on HP

From Wikipedis
John Clare (13 July 1793 – 20 May 1864) was an English poet, the son of a farm labourer, who became known for his celebrations of the English countryside and sorrows at its disruption.[1] His poetry underwent major re-evaluation in the late 20th century: he is now often seen as one of the major 19th-century poets.[2] His biographer Jonathan Bate states that Clare was "the greatest labouring-class poet that England has ever produced. No one has ever written more powerfully of nature, of a rural childhood, and of the alienated and unstable self."[3]
Timothy hill Apr 2017
Sea
Lady of the sea, please recite this from me.

I'm the area, am the vessels am the breeze that moves your waves for there speed.

So take responsibility, as too my objective for you.

You are too stop, the hurricanes in there pace.

How am, I to do this task.

You will surge, your waves and move water at different speeds changing the heat.

They would then have taken of you its rage.

Disruption of fury, the hurricane, saying stop, let me destroy the city's and builds.

Am the focal point, of my only Mission
too divinely place chaos into points am chooseful.

Only the objective, is plane to construct.

Going into shelters yet my strengths have been modified, so watch as bridges collapse as my previous attempts where point-less!

Now sea's are higher, in frequencys and boiling my power even "higher out pours of rage".

So scents of "humid rain" back yards you will soon be mine.

For am, making a new Region of Space, for All my Destroyed "Components shall become There".

Spinning winds and scrap and walls.

Cars horns bering north as lighting is in designated local.

So as men, run there tallest builds fail miserable.


My honor, winks "hi" then changes to good bye, the dust fills the lung's of person sadly they couldn't have stopped this.

Long duration, as Weather men ponder how the hurricane, stayed in land so long.

Span, of 4 hours the hurricane changes it's path going for a flame of green.

So tax of yellow, and suits and blue jeans filth of pavements.

Tornados spawned in too eat the gross area's.

Tennis courts ***** then engulf into the spin of raft.

There was only whom, that could reverb the hurricane, he created in pure power.

He had made preportion, to avoid all out comes if successful was achieved.

The device uses all matter, in the range of the path of a power source.

And recalculate it's pressure on the ground.

See when a hurricane, stays in land it messy with the gravity some what strange.

Planes fell out of a rigid now sky.

Super weaponry, where place in a hurry to shoot, in attempts to diulth it's stain.

Sorry the creator, then states there noting the can accomplish.

For my plains are flawless and tip toeing in silent progress.

Only there is no means of transportation, for its matter is right at scene.

Deconstructing and unfilling your subscriptions.

I'm a teacher of metric diameters and master at construction.

So with amps of vocals sted fast with your own deductions.

Should have avoided the blank white of spaces.

For my out lines came and conduct reality mods.

My weather shall, yield pure fury tornados change to EF8 and hurricanes winds reach 344 mph.
Ron Gavalik Mar 2017
‪Me and the typer ‬
we fight the world
with vicious fury
We shake mountains
Entire lakes
of tears ripple
as we live
our truth
as men
Hit it HARD: PittsburghWriter.net
overwhelming sadness
to embarrassment
frustration
to embarrassment again
forgiveness
it does not make sense
to those around me
so I would rather bury
bury
bury
my overwhelming sadness
to not have to
convince
impress
prove
that I can move past
beyond
away from
the first time I saw her
but actually
it was the first time
Ive ever been seen
and my heart
with all its will
it became
as if vulnerable
took over the world
all of the sudden
existence
feeling
experience
love
the first and only time
she would ever prove
impress
upon me
the invincible human being
that we are the same
I will miss you
no matter how close
no matter how far
without dissociation
I do what matters most
I will have to be reborn
opportunities to sense
new feelings
forever
but I will still miss you
rebirth after rebirth
rebirth before rebirth
the first time I had a purpose
meaning
feeling
not
negating stutus quo
or agreeing to be it
Im sorry that I allowed you
to have this journey
I hope you can be strong
I know you can
I love you
more than anything
always could
express my sensitivity
creatively
impressively
gracefully
terrified
now
when my sensitiveness
is pouring out of me
for all to see
like a heart
without
a body
expressionless
cold
crying
mourning
after a lucid nightmare
and you are no where
the sadness is crippling
but I should be healed
at the least
do what is expected
further overwhelmed
unstoppable
in vulnerable’s world
sadness is the ruler
www.barnesandnoble.com/w/escape-from-liberty-elan-gregory/1125516297?ean=9780997491623
Anna Mar 2017
In my arms
She felt so light
Her body against mine
Her head on my shoulder
This place feels like home

Home
This night feels exactly the night before you left
Ambitious,furious, hot yet addicting
I missed this for years

Remember
When after that night you sloped.
I burned my bed down that day
And bathed in the ashes of my broken dreams
It feels meaningless now

Alone
Yes alone I went down to hunt down
My Incessant desire to touch your skin
To caress and pull you closer
I thought the desire died
But it was subtly breathing deep within

Oh you
Your smell is still the same
It still seduces me
It still captures me through and through

I will never get over you
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