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Zee Nov 2024
You were small once.
With wide eyes.

You saw the world.
In an array of colours.

In another life.
You'd be a great inventor.

Instead you grew.
Too fast.
Too soon.

You were born.
To make mistakes.

If only you knew.
If only you flew.

To the world.
You became a flaw.

Your  life was jinxed.
From the beginning.

You weren't born a fighter.
Yet became one in chaos.

You lost everything.
You lost everyone.

Will they ever understand?
All you ever was trying to do?
Was help?

They'll never understand.
The reason you became,
Something else.
This poem was inspired by the character Powder/Jinx from the Netflix series Arcane. If you'd like me to write more like this let me know.
Gerry Sykes Nov 2024
No one saw the hooded man
in the grain of the wood:
every night I slept face down
so I didn't have to look at him.

I'm grown up:
there are no figures
on wardrobe doors,
but some people make me hide
under the bed sheets.
I was just watching an halloween movie and it brought to mind my childhood fear of a figure I was in the grain of the wood of my wardrobe.
Often times I wonder
as I sit in my little car
in my little town
with my little friends

if the world is bigger than I?

Then I realize this life is too short to squander
and the past is now too far
to keep yesterdays frown
for life never truly ends

And I smile secretly at the sky

They tell me that the romantics
had a curious way about
the way they loved and hated
and the things of which they wrote

Their love is better best forgotten now

Still they amazed me with their antics
their scandals the world still loves to shout
the way they so simply and wordily stated
like the world's chaos was their little note

So in their image, do I dare to grow?
This is what I get for reading Woodsworth too young, though honestly darling, is it ever too young to go against the flow?
duck Nov 2024
crayons in hands
and stickers on face
with a cute headband
as i decorate my camera case



i miss those days



a pen in hand
and pimples on face
with a rubberband
as i speed up my pace
to finish studying



that's me now
It’s hard to be different when you told me not to be like everyone else.
And now I look at you as you say these words,
your head in a cloud of smoke along with everyone else.
i hate being different
I miss you, back when you were still young and innocent.
Your beautiful crooked white teeth are turning yellow,
your face is thinner, and you look older.
Is this part of growing up?
I would give anything to go back a few months.
Now I sit alone in the place where we laughed together every day.
Would things be any different if I was like you?
The habit I once thought was funny, I can’t stop doing now,
because it reminds me of you.
Please don’t turn your back on me.
If this is the only thing I can do to make you like me,
then I’ll never stop.
this is for my friend. i love you and I miss you
But you’re just a kid-
So who am I to have learned love
From somewhere other
Than home

What a sentence
That almost borders on prose
To be just a kid…

Ignorance and bliss I suppose
Rhyme schemes and sparking trees
That make up for depth and feeling

Because I’m just a kid
Zywa Oct 2024
Thirty-six years, my

youth is only just starting --


yeah, to release me!
Diary novel " Ik kus uw handen duizendmaal - Faxen aan Ger #6" ("I kiss your hands a thousand times - Faxing to Ger #6", 2024, Nicolien Mizee), January 20th, 2001

Nicolien Mizee was born on January 8th, 1965

Collection "Out of place"
Blessing Thabane Oct 2024
I used to wonder, used to judge,
How lives unravel, how souls begrudge,
How bottles cradle shattered dreams,
And promises fade like distant screams.

Whiskey was a word I spoke
With distant pity, a careless joke,
"Why not fight?" I'd boldly say,
But now I see how hope can fray.

Life rushes in, swift as a flood,
Dreams turned to dust, hearts bruised with blood.
I’ve seen the years slip through their hands,
Plans abandoned like drifting sands.

I don’t seek whiskey's cold embrace,
But now I see the tender space
Where some give in, where strength subsides,
Where the light dims and courage hides.

I used to judge the broken years,
The quiet falls, the stifled tears,
Those who reach their twilight days
With tangled paths and unhealed frays.

But now I know—how life can bend,
How even giants break and bend,
It’s not the weakness I once scorned,
But silent battles left unmourned.

Yet still, I rise, though skies grow dim,
With heavy heart and trembling limb,
To chase the stars, to stand my ground,
To seek the dreams that still resound.

I understand why some give in,
Why whiskey calls beneath the din,
But I’ll face the storms that scar the land,
No whiskey in this steady hand.

For I have learned the weight they bear,
The silent grief, the whispered prayer,
And though I walk through nights untamed,
I’ll keep my fire, unashamed.
I used to judge adults and the ones who came before me but now I see their stories etched in shadows, not of ignorance but of life's cruel toll. Through my own trials, I've learned that wisdom is woven in scars and understanding flourishes in the soil of experience. Life comes at you fast.
Gus Oct 2024
Swimming in cold rivers with friends
Taking hot showers to feel better
Exhausted staying up late with the people close to me
Uneasy about new experiences ahead of me
Balance.
I’m cold when alone
I’m hot with a fever
I’m exhausted washing down adderall with nyquil
I’m uneasy about the unknown balance of feeling alone
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