Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Every morning, the sun reminds me
Just like it
I can always rise again
I may fall but I will not stay down
My days may be dull
But everyday I will rise
Until one day I will shine bright
Just like the sun
Avery Aguilar May 21
A blinding light from the phone the teenager wakes up to at one in the morning - everyone’s been there, technology advances as our moods considerably decrease.
Smooth waters at the bay, a pretty blue light reflecting in the sailors eyes - but he wants to be greater than he already might be, so he sails out to find more difficult places and larger waves.
And one should never make a promise they know they can’t keep because words can cut like knives, if not worse, leaving deep, horrid scars everywhere they might so softly touch.
But then the new mother looks down at her gorgeous newborn angel with beautiful bright green eyes, realizing things’ll now change; for infants bring hope to a cold, hopeless world;
Yet there’s another new mother across the world somewhere in which is checking her balance, seeing which item she should buy though she can’t afford - diapers or baby food.
We all know how pictures can speak a thousand words, floating gracefully within the air - but too few words can not paint a colorful picture at all, it’ll just be grey and empty and sad and pointless.
Sometimes the person you'd take a sharp bullet for is the one that pulls the trigger of that dull handgun, and you were just on the wrong end of it...and you'll end up talking to them later, asking them how prison food tastes, saying "hope you're doing well, I'm still in the hospital, haha."
But what? Have you eyes in the back of your head? No? Well then why are you walking backwards, my dear?
Even when one runs into those low self-esteemed bullies thinking they can fix themselves by breaking everyone else, physically or mentally, get suspended for a fight - because constantly getting in trouble is funny and cool, right?
There’s a teacher across the empty, echoing school hall, one who wants to be more; have more classes; help more kids succeed with their sometimes outrageous dreams.
There’s a beautiful rainbow stretched across the bright sky in which is waiting to find its end; waiting to find its clouds to complete the breathtaking, aesthetic, panorama picture...
She sits there staring at empty cups, hoping to fill them all up one fine day but saying that she can't do it alone...and that’s the reason they will never be filled with any thirst-quenching liquid,
With rain softly falling, a homeless man on the side of the street with his empty hands out and a tearful look in his eyes, sign sitting next to him,
People stop, people stare, then get upset when they see something a little too violent for their taste although they asked - no, they begged, for it...
Feel the burn of the scorching hot fire made from the lies everyone can’t help but tell.
But still, there’s that little light of hope. The yin-yang symbol doesn’t lie - that little sliver that keeps us going, the 'what if' statement we all hold onto and keep close like a golden locket given to us passed down for generations.
I once came across a seemingly dead tree with but a single flower somehow still growing beautifully, vibrantly, peacefully as if the rest of the tree was still alive.
Those who are non-believers sitting alone, believing in the fact that there's nothing there...those who are believers, though...still. Sit. Alone. Because they're not always all that different from those who don't.
Confident singers are engraved with hallelujahs, just as the guilty, depressed, warn-out poet may write about pain, possibly from their dead members gone too soon, now lying under a rock engraved with their names.
Don’t only feel, but also see his guitar shooting musical notes like bullets across the room, reaching the crowd, hearing them roar louder than an untamed lion, for he remembered his dreams and never gave up on them.
These sentences all ask but a few questions; who’s good enough, who’s not? Who’s going to make it, who’s not? But it’s a trick, because everyone who reads this imperfect line in a book or on the screen of a device, is in fact, perfectly imperfect.
Still don’t believe it? Then go and get all the canned goods out of the pantry - whether it’s beans, carrots, corn, soup, anything. Just get everything. Big cans or small cans, taller ones or shorter ones. Get all of them.
Place all those cans on the smooth, tan countertop, look back at the pantry which should now seem far more empty than it was before - that’s what the world would look like without you...without the reverberating sound of your footsteps. It would look empty.
Sitting on the bus stop bench all alone, with nothing but a broken, bleeding, but still beating heart in hand - look down and see that you’re still holding on and it’s for a reason. And for a very good reason, at that.
These words are meant to cut like knives, not on the wrists of those who think pain is the answer, but on the heart of those who realise it’s not…
Picture daddy telling you how to act tough, how to take a punch right to the face...imagine mama telling you to let go of things. It’s fine, just sweep it under the rug, let it go, it’s fine. But it’s not fine, is it?
Trust me, you want to make a footprint in the sand, not a ****-print. So get up off of your *** and start walking, feel the warm, golden substance tickle between your toes, and it doesn't even matter if it’s the right direction or not - just walk. Keep walking.
Walk if you don’t want to feel empty or alone anymore. Walk and don’t you dare stop.
jules May 18
to the brave warriors
who reach deep within
their souls
turning darkness into
something beautiful
and whole

to the emotional empaths
who feel things
speaking their truth
wildly embracing

to the poets
who self-doubt
fearing they’re
not worthy:
the world would
not be the same
without your journey
jules May 18
embrace the demons
that lurk beneath
the shadows of your mind
and turn them into
beautiful rhymes

your mind is poetic
and so is your soul
never stop writing
turn your darkness into
something beautiful and whole
Jace Joesph May 17
You may not like my appearance
We may not have perfect correspondence
And I may not be able to say sorry for all the interference
But still I'll get back up, cause of this cool thing called perseverance
Natalia May 13
If my heart is black,
And my soul is lost.
I, having lost track
Of the hours it has cost.

Can I be free?

The bite of the wind is chilling,
Yet it does not reach my core.
But I stand there, unwilling.
Facing what it has in store.

Can I be free?

The ground sinks,
With one foot in front
It's as though the other shrinks.

Can I be free?

I wish to collapse,
My energy is spent,
Healing the breaks and cracks
With mortar, brick and cement.

Can I be free?

The chains are unshackled,
But no less heavy.

Can I be free?

Bruises and marks appear.
They come as no surprise,
I do not face them with fear,
Nor with weeps and cries.

Can I be free?

This is all unknown,
I am burdened by my mind.
This path is mine alone,
To discover, to unwind.

Am I free?
It's effort to heal from depression. Today it just hit home how hard I'm pushing myself. Emotions are fickle. It's hard not to fall into that black hole. I can only keep trying. One day I'll be free
OrcasTogether May 12
Life is an untamed surprise
An cycle that will never end
On the way we see what lies
Around the riverbend

There’s so much for us to face
Much that we don't comprehend
But let us travel to the place
Around the riverbend

There’s much that we adore
And much we won’t befriend
So don't wait for what’s in store
Around the riverbend

We floating and dancing free
And at the same time we’re penned
But let's see what there might be
Around the riverbend

We don’t know our future plans
But one day you’ll apprehend
So why not soar to the lands
Around the riverbend

We don’t know what we’ll become
But we know it’s not the end
So don’t fear what’s to come
Around the riverbend

— OrcasTogether
“What comes will come, and we’ll just have to meet it when it does.” -J. K. Rowling
Zack Ripley Feb 3
I'm not here to tell you
how to live your life.
All I ask is that
you don't look at the knife
With admiration or longing.
Because there's so much coming
That you can't see.
So please hold on.
If not for you, for me.
Archer Feb 25
After all's said and done
I'm not having any fun
Shame and pain, par for the course
I will grow by use of force

Maybe if I change my ways
My bad will switch to good days
That wont work I've tried before
Pick myself up off the floor

Sleep tonight, let my mind heal
Face tomorrow with fresh zeal
If I make the same mistake
I need to cut myself a break

Have to try to keep going
Words on screens, they keep flowing
If that's all that seems to work
One more day alive's a perk
He went all around the world
He got lost in the places
The people, the crowds.
What great fun he had,
He had such great fun.

He went to Hollywood
Met so many people.
He went to New York
Though just for a week.
He started his career
And he's still going at it today.

He only ever had two wishes,
One to never be lonely
The other to always be known.
Both his wishes soon came true
All because he enjoyed his fun,
All because he worked his dream.

So if you ever go to Hollywood,
If you ever make it to New York,
There's one simple thing that I must say;
If you wanna be an actor, musician
Or someone famous, just have great fun
And the good things will come!
Next page