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Thekingspen Oct 19
This is my park,
It's in between the pages of a paper
Where I write in large to pour out my heart
The place my peace is found
This is my park, and it's my diary
For every human there's a thing or place we find our inner peace or solace, for me it's writing and my diary is my place of peace.
Akriti Sep 23
Some days I want to paint,
some times I want to be painted.

Some days I want to write,
some times I want to be written.

Some days I want to read,
some times I want to be read.

Some days I want to be a gardener,
some times I want to be the flower of that garden.

Some days I want to live,
some times I want to breathe in peace.
chang cosido Aug 15
you cant always make pain leave.
it knows its directions.
it knows how to follow you home.
pain knows its way to your sheets.
it knows which side of the pillow is colder.
if it ever visits you tonight
just let it in,
lead it to the blank pages
of a notebook.
it will stay.
between these lines,
this is where it stays.
Alexa Pishtey Aug 10
Beauty does not come so easily.
Hours and hours of masking her flaws.
Days waiting for the paint to dry.
Building her slender body took quite some time.

After she amazed our eyes,
It was time to take to the skies.
All she needed was to Ignite,
And how smoothly she could fly.

Sometimes the shock was just too much.
She snapped apart, again and again,
But at least we always got her back.

All she needed was to have her strings crocheted.
The blast would still undo the chain,
But at least she always returned.

He tightened her leash,
But she was still pretty.
The shorter the chord,
The closer to being whole she was.

It worked almost as smooth as she flew.
She loved to kiss the sky, again and again.
Her beauty lasted and amazed,
But only until the sky never saw her again.

I waited for hours, as he searched through every field.
When he returned he held her body, and I cheered,
Until I realized, "It's not all here".

"Why did she break,
Where did she fall?"
The chain was crocheted,
But it still snapped from her body.
He returned without her head.
What came back was dead.
Her nose was lost.
Her dreams were gone.

She was the beauty that he made.
She suffered a tragic ending,
But she will never be forgotten by my family.
Remember, she was Legacy.
Andy May 25
A spark. A flame.
The crackling of fire on wood, whispering your name.
The fire inside me calling out.
Leaving no room for any doubt.
I am sure of what I want.

I want the world to remember me.
I want to live on in people's memory.
This makes me happy.
My heart was set aflame.
This isn't just a hobby.

If you sense my fire about to die out,
Would you grab a candle
To help keep my light?
At least, for another night.
I may be bound to a life of darkness, but it wouldn't hurt to try.
I've been losing motivation to write, but the  people who support me always keep the fire in me alive.
Poetic T May 24
The suicide note was blank,
            I hadn't thought up
a good enough excuse yet

   for why they killed themselves.

This one was a tough one,
  as my hands aren't as strong as
the used to be, took ages to suffocate...

But as I hung them up like a piñata,
  covering the ligature marks smoothly.
I pushed them to get a rhythm  of what
               to write..

I was tired, uninspired...
I'm getting to old
               for this manual labour,
time to retire and write love stories...

"To whom it may concern,

                         "tested gravity..

"I got a D- oh well....
Rain slowly seeps into my soul
Gathering gently at my pores
Slowly wandering, searching
for any life of creativity
A blank canvas awaiting a
stroke of color
Coloring out of bounds
No Lines, boarders,
or limitations
With only the power of a
pen. Control is given over
Free falling endlessly
No longer the beholder

-A Black Girl Untold
Anurag Apr 28
You are,
A bright sunshine with a little hurricane,
A beauty without any brain,( just for gigs)
You house ideas that are insane.
But, You are
The person I share my worries, woes and pain.
The salt in a dish so plain.
I never measured this bond
Based on loss or gain.
We are more than a priceless diamond,
Or a happy rain.
Unlike them,
We will never drain.
A letter to my Bff, Here, I'm a plain dish.
Satvik gupta Apr 19
Only Karma works and pays* !
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