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Wang Di Sep 2019
I dream about the summer times,
Where the yellow hues were
Luring us
Around sunflowers,
That were yellow
to the depth of their cores,
Telling us how they missed
seeing us together.
But, now that you are gone
And I am here,
The yellow hues aren’t yellow anymore,
The sunflowers aren’t yellow anymore,
They talk about how they are
Turning grey, grey like the ashes
That you turned out to be.
Oh, dayou,
Leaving behind the only thing you couldn’t take with you,
Me.
Creator Sun Sep 2019
Late.
You're too late.
Too late
To stop what you inadvertently caused
Too late to apologise.

Too late to go back,
Too late to reverse
The damage you caused.
To him.
To me.

Late.
You're too late.
Too late to say sorry.
Too late to be sorry.
Too late.

You're just too late.
Don't be sorry.
He never wanted you to be sorry.
He just wanted you to notice him.
To acknowledge him.

Not to ignore him
Bash him
degrade him every time
Every time he comes to you
And asks for a second chance.

He is one of us.
He was one of us.
And you should live forever
In guilt
Of your sins.
A draft for a possible dialogue at the ****** of a passion project :)
M e l l o Sep 2019
the rain
starts to drop
his fists clenched
his eyes was red
he cursed the ground
muttering the words
fate is wicked
screams unheard
he cursed the ground
called you stupid
your silence cut deep
the pain he tried to keep
he remain tight-lipped
yet inside he wails and wept
how dare you throw away the life
that others struggles to keep?
as the rain stop
he asked the ground
why did you commit
such selfish act?
Potd. Sept 11.
Keiri Aug 2019
It wasn't an impossible goal.
But I did give it all of my soul.

I wanted to be a teacher.
Be a duller, rules abiding preacher.

I saw me with glasses, and my hair in a dot.
Proudly presented in the hallways I'd trot

Everyone would see me and assume
What an ancomplished woman I presume

I wanted a simple house with children and a dog.
In my classroom, I would endlessly monologue.

I'd have two children I'd teach everything myself.
There'd be a successful book I wrote on every shelf.

That was my idea of success.
Before it all became a mess.

However I still truly believe.
I'll get over all this grieve.

And still make it work.
Without meeting another ****.

That took all away from me.
I'll get there, you'll see!
This litterly is my life in a nutshell
Faizel Farzee Aug 2019
Tears flow like the river Nile enraged
Mournful embraces, as the joining feeling of a future lost unites a weakened family
A mother inconsolable treads thru meaningful memories as the smile of her lost child still freshly lingers with her
A fathers rage distorted, hopelessly punches walls as the embrace of a perfect daughter still freshly lingers
A Family horrifically shaken, as even the stars sheds their mournful tears
Why? A question tread milling through broken down spirits and scarred souls
A eternally loved daughter’s memory, drowning in uncontrollable tears
Tear stained prayer reaching out with a healing hand, as reluctant sorrow pursues a numbing soul
Mournful embrace, the only solace in a wicked life’s tragedy
A promising future, with love in abundance lost in a sorrowful abyss
A life unnecessary lost,
not only the loss of one fragile soul
A child lost in any community is a tragedy
M e l l o Jul 2019
Nakatingin na naman
sa malayo
habang tahimik
na tinitingnan
ang palubog na araw
dito sa tagpuan natin
ako'y nag-iisa na naman
Mga alaala mo
tahimik na sumasabay
sa ihip ng hangin at
sa unti unting pagbaba
ng araw sa parang

Hanggang kailan ako aasa
sa posibilidad na bukas
ay muli kang makakasama
Hanggang kailan ako
maghihintay
Kasi unti unti na kong
nalulumbay
matagal pa ba?
ako'y naiinip na
pakisundo na lang
ako pag oras ko na

Araw araw
walang mintis
dumadalaw dito sa tagpuan
masuyong hinahaplos
pangalan mo'ng nakaukit
sa bato
mga naggagandahang
bulaklak na gusto mo
ay dala dala ko
bukas ulit
andito na naman ako

Sana nung nagpaalam ka
pinigilan kita
kung hindi lang ako tanga
sana naagapan ko pa
hindi ko alam
yun pala ay huli na
Huling pagkakataon na
makita ka
Huling pagkakataon
na makasama ka


Matagal pa ba?
ako'y naiinip na
pakisundo na lang
ako pag oras ko na
Another poem of the day.
Chase Parrish Mar 2019
I remember how the sky cried
The mournful day my Nene died.
It sobbed and grieved; thought not prolonged.
Soon sunlight, through the darkness, dawned
As thought the tears had simply dried.

At once I wondered, scornfully, "Why?"
How dare you cease your crying, Sky!
How simply could the world go on?
Then I remembered...

My struggle, isn't her's. It's mine.
I hurt because I'm left behind.
For she, you see, has moved along
A better place she's set-upon.
Therefore, with mourning cast aside,
I'll remember.
A couple of days ago my grandmother on my dad's side passed away, and I wanted to write a poem about it.
Brooke Mar 2019
I'm sorry that I doubted you, I'm sorry that I was wrong.
I'm sorry that I left you when you needed someone strong

RIP Joshua W.
s Willow Feb 2019
My up coming death,
you inspire me to write.
Never satisfied even after me last breath.
I hate the way you roar, slither and scan.
Invade me mind day and through the night.
waiting, dreaming ‘bout your cunning plan.
I Idle at your foul play.
You are more able, violent, and deep.
Ice bites the debris of may,
and wintertime has the eternal sleep.
Oh who I hate you and your ways.
I adore and hate your personality.
Your stage style fills my days.
The way you destroy my mentality.
My hate for you is the sarcastic ties.
Now I must away with a stunning heart.
You get us in the end.
how are you so smart?
You’re taken my best friend,
my brother,
and my health.
Once I leave
The works I’ve weaved on the paper will grieve.
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