Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I wonder if you're cold.
You're beautiful.
I bet you're beautiful in the spring.
And even prettier in the summer.
In the winter your cold.
And now, you're beautiful.
I wonder if anything is crawling on you.
If you're taking a breath in or out right this moment.
I wonder if the sun makes you smile.
If the cold kills you-
I hope you're not dead.
Because you're so beautiful.
Sitting from so far away.
I see you.
You curve oddly.
The clouds were just swept for you.
Are you waving at me?
I saw something.
Are you thirsty?
Is it too cold for you?
I'm sorry, i didn't bring anything.
I'm sorry…
“I'm sorry.”
“But it was all me, don't be sorry”...

“It's okay now.”
“It's never okay.”
“To me, it's okay now.”
“It's not okay…”
“It is to me.”
What would it do in this situation?
What temperature would it feel?
The Summer?
The Winter?
The Spring?
The Fall?

(“The Fall.”)

I can't warm up to him.
But I'm going to, I'm going to fail.
I'm going to “Fall”.

What would you do?
What would you grab onto.
The dirt?

If you fell right now i wouldn't hear you.
I can’t.
She's in the way.
This window is in the way.
The air.
The fence.

I can’t-
-help it.

I'm going to hug you.
Be there.
I'm going to hug you.
You're stuck in the ground.

You're beautiful.


You're going to make me die.
That was a mistake.
Written in pen.
You're going to make me cry.
I'm ready for it.
I'm waiting for it.
I'm waiting for you to feel like it's right.
Not set in stone.
I'm letting you make the decision.
The first move.
Because I made the first move last time.
Not this time.
Not again.
Not ever.
Be ready.
Please be ready.
For yourself.
For me.
The one outside.
The one in the car.

“Negative Attention.”

She’s a horrible woman.
She's beautiful.
Not like the other tho.
She is wrong.
One of God brought by Satin.

I'm sorry ***.
Show me you're ready.
I love you.

You're beautiful.
George Krokos Apr 19
I wish I was a billionaire
so I could travel everywhere
in my own private aeroplane
go see the world and not be vain
in a much more conducive time
and write about it all in rhyme.
Helping all those needy people
regardless of their own steeple
who'd come across my path to be
and give to them a hand from me
for all their immediate needs
as an example of good deeds.
Written in 2020. Wouldn't it be great?!
Akta Agarwal Mar 24
Freely giving unconditionally to the unknown person
With the thought of helping them
To give some peace as per our own status
And as said to give without the think of receiving something in respect of this is the pure hearted love
But am not that pure
But I want to help them in my possible ways
It's really the kindest thoughts of giving them something from your own store
And when got to know bcoz of my utmost help they got their life and the children can able to fed his / her family
And no needs to beg
It will be the priest feeling that anyone can ever get
By giving them I didn't have done charity I had buy peacefulness and happiness with this.
It's not charity
It's thought of letting them developed.
Helping someone didn't means charity always
Daniel Cuzzo Dec 2020
is that EACH time
I HAVE a problem
to work out
I can measure the pain
by how MANY tissues
I use to fill my garbage.

about how few
garbage bags
there are
to empty
the big garbage.

environmental waste
my father’s race
to be first on line
to get tissues, TP
and paper-towel
at the store.

on the continuation
of these patterns
for the LONG TERM.

Someone hurts me,
I internalize it,
I work it out
but not without
rebelling, swelling
feeling woe-is-me
WHY DO I have to:
cry all the time?

And then life breaks
An older neighbor,
is lying facedown
on his driveway.
to sleep, to dream,
to forget about
this new pain
but NOW,
he is in more.

I awkwardly help
him get on his feet,
and sit by himself
in front of the door.
Ask him if he needs
me to help make any calls.

I leave for a few minutes,
but look back to see
he successfully got back
in the house.

My part is done.
No “battle-is-won” mentality.
At risk of being cheesy,
I’m helping him
because he is me.

Behind everyone’s posturing
age, stance, orientation,
different people, situations,
at the end of the day
we’re a myriad of variations
of me and my old neighbor.

It’s RARELY ever cut and clear.
Someone might need help
and will only accept it,
if you convince them
they’re helping you more.

Yet another scoreboard
I should throw in the trash,
instead of all the tissues
dehydration, dry skin
and mental math I keep
to measure how deep
my poems can rip.

is my solution.
I feel so deeply,
might as well wade,
then dry off
instead of wearing it.

problems keep arising
as long as I keep thinking
I’m alone in this.
As alone as I feel,
I have to be real enough
to see there’s no end to this.

I try to help, I hide,
I get riled up by
every reason we make up
that says I’m full of crap
for wanting lives to improve
and life on Earth to get better.

I have to swallow the bitter pill
as my way to deal with grief
is unsustainable.

if you’re right or wrong,
good or bad,
relatable or hard to stand.
Jesus often held out a hand
and that ****** me off to
no end.

Jesus might not be ANY of us,
but he does have merits.
Let’s put away words
like criticism and injustice
that fly around to make us
amount to less help
when the time comes.

Let us wade through
intangible negativity
in a swim or the air
and still dare to be
the love that we are.
LET it pass through,
because I am a seer
but NOT a carrier.

If I can help, I will help.
If I can’t, I won’t.
NO NEED to complain
about misunderstandings
that reinforce the barriers.

It was not wrong
to be crying.
But the next step
is letting sadness
fly through us
reach the soul
of the earth, to allow us
to increase our worth.

Once victim
mentality is gone
perhaps something
dawns on another horizon.
In realizing I’m above
withholding love due to
I release myself
from the control
of all the negativity
I’d never come to grips
with existing.

Is this “fair?”
Perhaps not
looking from below
but the less we do that
could be, the more we grow.
Conditional love is safer
we can rely on ourselves
our intuition and judgment.
But if we state:
we are the same,
drawing lines to love
divvying up the blame
is a punitive game
from an antiquated system.

I’ll try to stop counting.
WILL NOT stop mounting.
All the TIME, I spend
blowing my nose
can now be opened
to helping myself
or those who desire it.

I’m sorry, it’s NOT
much of an advertisement,
for Kleenex, or PUFFS ultra.
But we’ve had our moments,
I’ve had three battlements
stationed across my room.

It’s finally time to make room
for something else to enter.
Though unlikely, to be a fantasy
it’s surely, much-needed understanding.
Maybe then, the word “fantasy,”
won’t be needed.

I’m running out of tissues.
So, I will use them much less.
One fewer concern of consumerism
and a lighter feeling on my chest.

You are a seer, so see.
See past the posturing
insecure judgements
aimed at everybody.
Whether they are true or false
it’s a Waltz with something
I have little affection for.

So open the door tomorrow,
let in the rain OR sun
let in the hope or pain,
the happiness or disdain
but don’t dwell on
the wrong ones:
or we’ll miss opportunities,
what HAS to be done
for true understanding.
The helper and the helped
the victim and victimizer
the hurt and the healer
altogether MIGHT not make
only: the broken society
currently shaking.

We’re being led to believe,
it’s part of the fuel of awakening.
Wouldn’t that be something?
“Hey, Mr. Guy I couldn’t stand,
let’s hold hands.”
-Nope, didn’t think so.
But then again, in time,
I don’t claim to know all.

Just solved my tissue problem
let me sleep,
I’ll be back to break new,
yet fairly trodden ground.

But definitely more jokes
are necessary going forward.
I said I wouldn’t cry,
but I refuse to believe
my destiny is to be:
that straight face I’ve trained
throughout my history,
to be the only one,
not laughing when
this new sun comes around.

I joked, “a few Motrin,”
when he got in the house
might help my older neighbor
feel a little better.

But my aches and pains
from ACTUALLY lifting
someone heavy (no offense)
are definitely wearing
on already tense nerves.
If I GO to bed
and intuition says
“write another poem,”
here’s what I’ll do:
no tissues.
I will swim and flail
through that emotional
attempt at a chokehold,
shake that hook on my body
get me:  because I believe
I have a destiny.

I haven’t READ
the contract on destiny.
But I believe it has some bylaws.
While I said, I’d not engage
in this judicial exchange
the usual caveats
should have been provided.
I have a right to workers comp.
(Even though I have no job (or money)
I have a right to bathroom breaks.
I have a right to petition for leniency
in other words, to make some mistakes.

Come on “system,”
you had me “throw the book away”
for all, but you didn’t say: “me too.”
I won’t call you heartless
as an Amazon wish-fulfillment center
but there will be some serious banter
among the employees
if you don’t close up shop
when I’m ready to drop.

By the way, how many
are still ordering tissues?
Did I ***** your business?
Do we have to utilize “the news,”
to PUT them back on the map
advertising on Facebook, WhatsApp?

Yep, I got it, system unlocks the door.
Don’t take no for an answer folks,
take what’s yours.
Ahmad Attr Nov 2020
Are you happy now?
Look what happened
Your family’s gone and everybody’s dead
The world is decaying everything is black and red

Will you now let me protect you?
Will you now make me make you smile?
Will you stop hurting me now with all of your signature style?

Stop asking for help from others, dialing all those numbers
Everybody else has been crumbled
I am just waiting for you to acknowledge my existence
I can’t wait anymore I waited so long for this instance.

I know you are crying in your room, locked and scared
Exactly how I used to feel
but you won’t remember my feelings I shared
Now I’ll be able to be your hero and save you
Remember it’s all for you and all because of you
This is my world now, you see
So it’s about time when you come to me

So forget about the past and look at the future
us holding hands gazing at horizons
Dancing in the rain
trace on each other’s back, our names

I will be your salvation and reach out my hand when you call
I will get you out of this, I will give you my all

Are you happy now? Look what has happened
The world has begun a new
Let’s make it our Eden
A secret paradise all hidden.
Instead of reaching out to the person in need, God-complex develops wanting the other person to beg for it.

This poem is a follow up to ''End of the World'' and ''Wish''
Arya Night Oct 2020
They say there would always someone to offer a helping hand.
But what happens when the hands are curled into claws,
And your out of blood to bleed.
Mei Jul 2020
May we teach our children
the love for the unloved things-
the bee and its sting, the out casts,
an ugly duckling.

Children who sense rainbow needs rain
and find muddy puddles fun
as much as they ran
under the warm summer sun.

And when they're grown,
may they see kindness
has no color, shape, nor size
To listen to unheard utters-
a bird's forgotten musings,
the wind's coldest sigh,
a breaking heart.

May they keep pacing with the slow
to reach a place where
all beautiful things glow.

And when they learn to
love the unloved things,
May they be fonder
Of all gentle things
And be the ones.
This is inspired by May we raise children who love the unloved things,” by Nicolette Sowder

And Nishu Mathur's version. I just love the idea so I made a version of my own.  Thank you Nishu and Nicollete for the inspiration. I will always look up to you guys.
kevin wright Jun 2020
As my time comes to an end
the trees take me in

no longer camouflaged
i become the leaf,
i will visit this world when the light appears
i will grow strong

i will give my self to who ever needs my body
they will be part of me
i can recover
my feet are firmly planted

when my time to sleep draws near
my colours will change
i withdraw with the dimming of the light
my carcass will be absolved into earth

i watch
i listen
i feel
My time to return to retirement approaches fast. My energy has been devoted to help those in need, now in writing its time to recover. My poems may start to dissapear with time.
Next page