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Growly Wolfus Aug 2019
All the lonely voices crying for help
their laughter chills my bones
the darkness has taken control
listening to their moans
they're afraid at times but otherwise brazen
you cannot see their face
they scream insults, phrases, and words
"you are a disgrace"
there are voices in my mind
impossible to silence
everything is invisible to my eyes
the voices act as tyrants
the blackout of my brain
became my reality
I ask myself questions the voices ask
"Is this really me?"
The light shines in, it hurts, it burns
the darkness inside me shrivels
I cry out in pain, the light is evil
I crumble to the ground and wither
The darkness returns, I feel at home
this is where I belong
I live here in this pitch black night
the light will soon be gone
I recall writing this during a school blackout.  It was a super stressful time.  There were at least ten officers in the building making sure everything was okay because the day before someone threatened to shoot up our school.
Growly Wolfus Aug 2019
blood.
I hate the
color it has.
such a strange
part of us.
it's only a natural
element of our being.
Roses represent an
love and romance.
I do not believe in
the hatred of our world.
love is
for us,
a beacon of hope.
Death is
scary.
Why must blood be red?
Why must the rose be red?
pain.
Red is the color of love and
agony.
Love is
warm.
Pain is
cold.
Blood is
red symbol of despair.
A rose, a
gift of love.
a true
gentleman carries a rose
for his love
"though it rots
it will not die"
I look into
the mirror
blood covers
the thorns on a rose.
Love is
freedom from the chains of torment.
nothing hurts more than
pains of heartbreak.
feel these
from a bleeding heart.
sorrow
or enduring the torture of
loneliness.
I dealt with
little of this.
I knew
the truth in love.
Lies are only
the thorns of a rose.
See beauty in
myself.
I hate
looking at the ****** rose.
read from the top, down then from the bottom line up.
This is my first try at a reversible poem, and I liked how it turned out.
Personally, I've always wondered why both love and evil are represented by the color red.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
I own nothing
nothing at all.
Think before doing or else you too will fall.

I've never seen or felt love before
but then I met you.  You opened the door,
the stone gate guarding my melancholy heart.
Now that you're here, stay to play your part.
I role in my life usually vacant.
Stay here with me, I have plenty of patience.
I promise not to argue.  I'll only listen.
Speak your mind to me.  Let nothing be hidden.
I will give you everything I have.
Just be here by my sad and never be sad.
I'll be happy with you for the rest of my days.
Never will I get over your gaze.

Your eyes a creamy, deep rich brown.
Your face seems to glow, your red hair always down.
The way you move is mesmerizing.
The words you say are hypnotizing.
I love you wholly with all of my heart.
I think no one can tear us apart.
I did not see
all the signs you left for me.
Once I found them, I couldn't understand.
Why would you leave my for another man?
None of it is true.  It must all be a lie.
But deep down inside I wish I would die.
You cheated on me with another.
We can no longer trust each other.
I lost everything to my ignorance.
I can't believe you and your difference.

Now, I own nothing,
nothing at all.
Think before doing or else you too will fall.
Being cheated on is the worst feeling.  It's a different kind of heartbreak.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
I chuckle lightly and smile at my knife.  One day, I would use this weapon to take my own life.  Slowly, I jab it into my arm, dragging it down and causing self-harm.  I have an addiction to inflicting pain, so I do it to myself since nothing will I gain except for the scars and blood on my skin.  How could this ever be considered a sin?

The blood trickles slowly down, hardening then turning brown.  I clean it up as if nothing happened.  If my parents knew, they'd be deeply saddened.  I act like I do normally and my friends don't notice anything wrong with me.  I wear a jacket to cover the scratches.  Some are still healing from last week's matches.

I feel the need to try other ways to cut myself, but to my dismay, I lost my only blade.  I bought a better one for which I paid.  The cuts on my arms grow more crowded.  There are too many to be counted.

After slicing my arms, legs and feet, I look to Death who I'll soon greet.  Just one stroke to end my life.  I whisper a prayer and grab my knife.  Admiring the dagger-like shank, I slide it against my neck and calmly thank anyone who didn't know of this.  They are all oblivious.

Today I will complete my mission, a goal of which I am commissioned.  You must  know, this has to be, and now I'm dead because no one stopped me...
I drew a very eye-opening image on the back page in my notebook.  This poem accompanies it.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
I'm a gatherer, a humble being.
I dislike violence.  Only peace, I bring.
I herd people to see the light.
I gave up emotions and love for this right.
Evil fills the human race.
It'd be safer if they're all erased.
A maze I'm running through from which I can't escape.
A dream has captured me and I cannot awake.
The memories haunting all of my thoughts.
The key to my heart is forever lost.

These battle scars I have gained over time
show all my struggles and losses of what's mine.
I have not forgot
all the wars I have fought.
I recall all the pain
and the wisdom I've gained.
Sadly, all my work has been for naught
since I am now gone, the one who Death sought.
I am a lie,
a false entity doomed to die.

This is the last you'll hear of me.
After this I'll be forever free
from the pathetic, fleeting people
of this world called to kneel.
I came as a friend to change their mind,
but they wanted bloodshed not peace for their kind.

I am warning you of
the humans filled with evil and love.
Take our time and think things through.
I pass all my knowledge onto you.
You are the new gatherer.
Bring the truth to those who can hear.
You are a scribe but never tell,
or they will come after you as well.
I recall writing this poem after researching the atrocities people commit.  We all need to be saved.
Growly Wolfus Aug 2019
You put your left foot in
You pull your left foot out
You put your left foot in
And wrap it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
You've got a dislocated foot now

You put your right arm in
You pull your right arm out
You put your right arm in
And twist it all about
You do the hokey pokey
As you weep and cry with pain
While someone's calling your name

You put your left arm in
You pull your left arm out
You put your left arm in and twist it all about
You do the hokey pokey
As you slip out of your chains
And realize you're going insane

You put your head in
You pull your head out
You put your head in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
As you quake and sway with fear
No one else is in here

You put your head in
You pull your head out
You put your head in
And you bang it all about
You do the hokey pokey
As you bleed out on the ground
Laughing 'cause you'll never be found
I have NO IDEA how I came up with this.  It's stupid, but you might find it a little funny.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
I am something entirely different from what you know.
I am someone hidden behind a screen and lines of code.
You think you know me; you say you know my name.
but do you really know me?  You hide the thought with shame.
You do not know who I am.

You do not know what I look like,
my hair color, my smile.
You cannot feel the warmth it gives to those in need.
You cannot see my eyes.
The suffering in them, the pain.
Nor have you seen the horrors I have.

You cannot hear my words and what they truly speak.
You cannot see the meaning behind them and behind me.
But you can see my text and what the script conveys.
You read things at face value and furnish it not with your gaze.
You do not know who I am.

You do not know my gender,
my culture, my race.
You do not know what I know and have learned.
You do not know my cunning,
how I think and how I feel.
You cannot fully understand me.

I do not fully understand me, my feelings, my actions.
Can you subdue my thoughts for a second, but a fraction?
You cannot comprehend how greatly I long for silence.
Something, I am afraid, is impossible now.
You do not know why.
You do not know who I am.

There is a ringing, a never-ending sound
I am subject to listen to.
It was not my choice nor was it mine to make.
My hearing is slipping away,
as is my speech.
Soon, my own voice shall atrophy away.
All that's left will be these words
turned to dust.

You do not know my name, my gender, my race.
Nor have you ever seen the features of my face.
I am losing myself and will never again feel the comforts of silence.
Oh, how I long for it.  I long for what I have lost.
Taken for granted.
Forgotten.
Dust.


You do not know
who I am......
You don't know who I am, so here's a little about me hidden in a very real poem.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
This seems to be reality,
but I just want to be free
from all concern and all the hate
in this world whose doom is fate.
'**** me now,' I thought aloud
silently, not making a sound.
I place on my face of happiness
to shield underneath the emotional mess.
Hiding my pain in my soul,
it eats away, out of control.

I try to smile at all my friends,
but how can I?  In the end
we all will face our judgement day.
Shall I bring it closer or shall I stay
here with you, my love, my hope?
But I'm afraid I cannot cope
with any of life's problems.
I'm scared that I am one.

I shake my head and break a fake smile
when you say that I'm a pretty gal.
The truth is, I hate myself
and find it easier to fail than to excel.
Change the subject, don't put it on me.
I'm not the one who likes to be
the center of all attention.
When I speak, you can cut the tension.

When I daydream, I think of the future
and how it grows ever nearer.
When I sleep all I have are nightmares
filled with only horrors and jump scares.
When I awake, I shrug it all off.
"This is normal to me," I scoff.
My failures stare me in the face.
Some things you can never replace.
The joy in my heart has been devoured,
but I have more important things to think of this hour.
Like how I'll **** myself. Is it the right time?
What should I use?  Will it all be fine?

Headed to school the very next day.
Mumbling and cursing myself, I say,
"Good morning," and walk to my seat.
With a fraud grin, I stare at my feet.
Again, I wear my mask of happiness.
Thinking of death, I clench my fists.

Soon... very soon.  No one knows......
The reality and the everyday thoughts of a suicidal person can be confusing.
Some feel guilty, others are anxious, and some are filled with true happiness.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
I've always been a quiet person.
I keep my thoughts short and to the point.
I never thought words were important.
Now, I realize each one has meaning.
I couldn't talk, unable to breathe
whenever people would speak to me.
"Social anxiety" it is called.
It seemed I couldn't shake the feeling.
Then I saw you when I was lonely one day.
I now keep my mouth shut more often.
Afraid that I will say the wrong words,
I'm speechless when I'm standing next to you.

Your eyes a crisp green, your hair golden,
your smile as bright as the stars at night.
Your laugh is like the waves of the ocean.
Your angelic voice calming and sweet.
I can't think straight when I'm around you,
your charming effect overpowering.
I solemnly stop to think of love,
but I still dream of when we will meet.
It could be today or tomorrow.
I want to run when you look at me,
and I can't help speaking so softly.
I'm speechless when I'm standing next to you.

If I'd raise my voice, I'd be heard across the room,
but I think we must have some distance.
You'll never find me in your embrace,
a relationship that won't exist.
My mouth is sealed and I'll stay silent.
You don't even know who I am,
but a fire has been building inside me.
Never before have I felt like this.
This burning can't be tamed by others.
It's an unstoppable force.
It's in my core where my heart dwells,
but still, I'm speechless when I stand next to you.
The raging fire of youthful love with a shy girl and her crush.  This is my favorite romance poem I've written.
Growly Wolfus Jul 2019
My father lost his mind after losing my mother.
Before getting over his grief, he married another.
Now a drunkard, he hides away
keeping me inside with him day after day.
My new mum, as I'd call her,
hated the thought of Da abusing his daughter.
She wouldn't treat me as other mums would
and kept away from Da best she could.
I no longer believed in love,
and I prayed to the god I had heard of.

Into adulthood, I grew with a start.
I now bought the drinks to fix Da's broken heart.
The god others prayed to still didn't help,
and everyone seemed happy except for myself.
My new mum was growing older with age,
and we needed to find someone else to pay wage.
We were in debt and a large one at that.
After finishing school, I got a job and came back.

In this time of duress you came.
Nothing would ever be the same.
You soon appeared in all of my dreams
and haunted all of my memories.
I would go red whenever I saw you.
I didn't believe in love, but I will soon.
You showed me things I didn't see.
You discovered a new side of me.

But my father soon found out.
He began cursing and crying about
you stealing me from him.
He said he would never forgive that sin.
I couldn't let him destroy the only thing I've ever loved.
So, with bated breath, I pushed and shoved.
Mum separated us from our quarrel
and scolded me for my immoral
actions in speaking against him.
I couldn't believe she sided with him.
Finally, she sent me away.
Thinking Da was drunk, I behaved.

One day was harder than the others.
I sat in my room locked in by Mother.
We had been secretly speaking together,
but I hadn't responded due to the gloomy weather.
You came to my house thinking I was sick.
I had to think of something quick
or else Da would see you and fulfill his words.
I prepared myself for the worst.
I screamed and grabbed my only blade
and acted deathly afraid.

Hearing footsteps, I got ready to cry.
But my knife fell out of my hand and I
tripped upon seeing Da's caring, worried face.
Never had I seen him that way.
I felt my knife puncture and cut deep.
I cried and screamed as Da pulled it out of me.
He cradled me in his arms
and promised I would never again be harmed.

Blood stained my quivering hands
and a second time the door slammed.
You stood aghast upon seeing me
and tried to stop the bleeding desperately.
My vision grew darker and blurry.
I could tell you were beginning to worry.
That was the last time I ever saw you
I was surrounded by the ones I knew.
Slowly, in Da's arms, I bled out.
Loss would always fill this house.
A sad poem.  If you didn't like the rhyme scheme you might want to read it again as a story.
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