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Julie Grenness Dec 2016
After Armageddon, what will survive?
Only Keith Richards will be alive!
Yes, there'll only be Keith Richards,
Pickled by drugs and drunkards,
So, what world will we leave old Keith,
As the world is covered by nuclear wreaths?
Feedback welcome. Bit of sort of giggle, sort of.
Budhaditya Bose Dec 2016
Never she walked down the lane
to her house across the street, or
smelt the roses on the pavement
that bloomed for love to happen,
or never did she tear a petal for
a guess of an answer, that was
never questioned. She cried,
for regrets, or a feeling of love,
that might never she have felt.

Its the time, that thought of Autumn,
the rusty leaves all over the pavement,
sometimes the rains, that wet them,
And the green park, that turned husky,
Hearts raced, eyes gazed, the pattering
sound of the rain that fell on the leaves,
that muffled the sound of our raging
and crying souls, The eye lids met
shutting the view. Only our exhales
was what we heard. Lips met.
All the pain, forsaken, for a minute.

She never took a ride back home again.
Even our shadows didn't stay apart.
A never ending journey, resumes.
Our palms doesn't ungrip anymore.
Our hearts pounds sync righteously.
Nothing makes me happier than her.

Might not be the same in near time.
Might we sleep in cold without us,
wiping each other's tears, and kissing
its okay. Might not I walk the same road
and ride the train, from the same station,
ever again, Might not she ever perfume
my bed with her aroma. Might not, we
share the long stares and kiss with a smile,
Might all the memories morph to poetry
with my cold heart and bleeding ink,
that will disappear with my demise.
Yet, a memory to be felt living again, that,
She never took a ride back home again.
The poem is pretty self explanatory
Arvind Krish Nov 2016
I'd rather write unknown poems
that no one would ever read
than shut myself to a living coffin
David Bojay Oct 2016
SN was sitting away from me
We had gotten into a little argument but I knew things were going back to normal after she left
I can't leave an open wound bleed out
People tell me I overdramatize
I just like to see things from that point of view
Helps me write poems
Like this
To reflect

I haven't written seriously for a while

I don't think it was ever that serious, I just didn't know how to express whatever my mind held inside on to another platform
Now there's YouTube

Everything revolves around you Charlie
I miss you so much my precious girl

White fur white fur
Your house I made makes my mind blur
My throat doesn't think
But I think my brain makes it do something
Not sure what
My eyes begin to rain

Your missing is to blame

Death is only scary when you don't accept

When you don't accept, it will hurt

And I'm still hurt


Because I don't want to accept looking out the window believe you're not ******* THERE

AND I GET HEATED BECAUSE THE DOOR WASNT LOCKED
AND I BLAME MYSELF FOR GOING OUT THAT NIGHT AND NOT DOUBLE CHECKING THE DOOR

AND ITS BEEN 5 MONTHS WHERE THE **** ARE YOU

MY BROTHER IS IN THE OTHER ROOM MINDING HIS OWN
HE HAS IT GOING
HIS MIND IS ELSEWHERE
MY LOVE IS IN HER HOME PLAYING HER DS MAYBE
MY MOM IS PROBABLY PRAYING RIGHT NOW

AND HERE I AM AGAIN THINKING ABOUT YOU

ALWAYS
FOREVER

I LOVE YOU CHARLIE
you are still missing
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