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Mrs Anybody Apr 13
in the
last weeks
you didn't
cross my mind
even once

but today
i can't
get you out
of my head
also check out my other poems!  :)
fluffel Aug 2015
The shackles,
so inviting.
You need no control.
Give your control to the shackles,
They love it…that’s what they are meant for right?
Take control from the occupant.
He must obey.
Must be taken away.
To where?
He has no say,
The shackles love the control
And he loves the powerlessness.
Nothing is expected,
Nothing needed,
He gets joy from being powerless
Powerless of what happens and free
Everything is let go.
No memories, responsibilities,
the shackles have taken it all away
The shackles love the control

You just need to get away.
The relationship gives both just what they need,
At least they think, at least for a second.
One more drop, their grip grows tighter.
Take it all, not just some.
“sure another”
They beckon and you ponder
Then he tips it back.
Both think this is what needs to happen
Made up their mind
Another down
just let it happen
the shackles love the control

take it from me,
all worries,
it’s their’s not mine.
He thinks.
The shackles love the control.

His eyes open, no shackles in sight.
Just empty bottles and a faint light.
He thinks it’s going to be ok, at least by tonight.
Knowing he’ll feel the familiar metal clamped tight.
as he grips the glass in fright.

Scared of it all
The memories,
The empty thoughts,
The unresponsiveness of the sky.
He gives up, gives it all up
Throws the key,
And just lets it be.
Clamped tight for the night
He has let go of it all
Thanks to the cold remedy he thinks heals him so well…
Until his eyes open on another glimps of light
In an unfamiliar place
Maybe this will finally end him of this destructive chase.
Or to another breakdown,
Maybe the same whirlwind  
That he just spent the last 8 hours in
The shackles love the control.
Mike lowe Mar 2015
Poetry is like spider webs. Each word has so much meaning. A spider prefers to spin its web at night. Maybe this is because thats when they have the most on their minds or when they feel safe.

Each web a beautiful creation. The time it takes to create it and the little appreciation it gets. They say a spider will eat its web when moving on, every poet will eat their words one day.

Cob webs, are webs that have been abandoned and left to die. Our bodies will one day be left to die.

This moment, this one right now, is all we have. We will leave our poetry behind to turn into Cob Webs. Maybe one day a child may stumble across these words and bring them back to life.

Poetry is the most powerful thing we have and we need to give it to everyone. So the next time you see a spider web, appreciate it a little more.

Think of it as, poetry. Something or someone spent a lot of time making it. And put their soul into it. Because what is poetry if not a spiders web in the corner waiting to be realized?
Jennifer Weiss Oct 2014
I'm not shocked
How saddened I can become
Yet the boat isn't rocked.

Sailing out beyond me
Expectations on the shore
I think we will live fully
Everything we want and more.

It wasn't me and you truly
That I could not ignore.
Sails adjusted to me.
Asking for more.
That's what really threw me.
There are no closed doors
Now everything is blooming
Better than before.
Instrospect Feb 2014
You occupy my mind
In all my idle time
Leave no corner
No nook, no crevice
You run around
And around
You run
Chasing away all else
In my mind
In my mind

Came up with this one while on the way home from school. Some sort of 5 minute poem.

— The End —