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Nuna Jan 2018
i am what people call
a void
you find me in the darkness
you find me in the skies
in empty halls
in broken souls
maybe in your heart - that's ok
you find me everywhere
the void
you cannot avoid
Tori Schall Sep 2017
I walk down these empty halls
gazing at the worn out walls
at the memories that I see
wondering what I was meant to be

Walking down this empty street
Averting my gaze from every stranger I meet
I cross the paths of dark and light
but soon the day is blotted out by night

The lights of stars illuminate my path
I kept walking, less I face their wrath
when memories are brought to the surface of my mind
I  wish desperately, pleading for them to rewind

back to a day where I could wander these roads
down worn-out paths that no one knows
but alas time has gone so fast
nothing gold, I guess, can last
Pretty girl Apr 2016
I think that possibly maybe I'm falling for you
Sad part you don't even have a clue
It's me I hollar but you're stuck in your own head
Me I yell but there is no one at the door
Look I say but you're up in your attic
I run searching for you in the halls of your mind and you are searching for something that you'll never find
Turn around I say but my words are whispers carried through the wind
The noise unable to reach you
It's like I don't exist and for a second I stop and look around its my memories playing a trick on me because you really were never there in this attic we both share
but we don't and its my attic that I need to clean out I've got bones under my bed and bats in my head
I forget what I'm doing in this basement walking around the empty spaces
...
Wasn't I in the attic?
I actually like this one ... I usually hate what I write but I think this is good. Just me :P being weird. Okay I'm done :)
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Shadows in my hall
They dance amongst my walls
They pirouette through my door
I feel thier dance steps on my floor

The shadow men love to play
They are here to stay
They scream they will never go away

Shadows in my hall
They leave scratches on my wall
They burst through my door
I feel their stomping on my floor

The shadow men are turning mean
They are becoming quite obscene
They are causing an awful scene

Shadows in my hall
They are leaving  black marks on my wall
They scream right through my door
I feel their nails clicking on my floor

The shadow men now in my head
They are only there to spread dread
They are only there to be fed
Till at last I'm dead
celey Jul 2015
the scrapping of rubber shoes
on the pavement alarm me
frantically gliding as if
in search of something

the halls are suddenly
narrower than yesterday
and all the other days before

this always happens
whenever i am rushing
and i am always rushing
so i wonder why i'm always
surprised to find myself this distraught
when its color isn't pretty on me
just making everyday happenings like  being late for class dramatic
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
I write poems because it fills my world with stuff,
Stuff that originated from someone who inspired me,
That inspiration makes me feel this is enough,
Enough to be the one who with a pen can set rhymes free,
I find poetry gets famous as long as the writer isn't me.

It's just a thing I've noticed, this word or that one,
Bouncing off of the walls, filling the world with
Fighting, or maybe scrolling blankness in the halls.

It will all develop somehow, this poetic pointless tail,
Maybe I'll be famous, but we all know the truth as well.
I'll just go down in misery-not history-as being "someone,"
A starving poet, a musician, just another stupid useless ***.
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