Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Julius Nov 2018
A cold wind gushes your way,
As the sun lays down her arms,
On the ground, with your friends you lay,
Looking out for a screaming alarm.

For a second you think it is done,
But a sound of a great demise
Tells a story that has begun
For those, who think they are wise.

'Hold the line!' the sergeant yells.
Brave men controlling the field,
Veterans wounded by enemy shells
Will not give up, will not yield.

A moment of silence, a quick catch of breath
Is ruined by anger and national pride.
Your comrades stand up to their deaths,
All of the crushing fear put aside.

You see them **** an unknown soldier-
A lonely mother will cry for her loss,
As the ground gets colder and colder.
Should you help, should you cross?

You put down your weapon - no hesitation.
You're not a monster, a mindless minion,
You won't give up to the temptation
A life comes first, not a madman's opinion.

You can't believe the bloodshed,
Of those, who lived, you are the only,
You're not a coward,
You're just lonely.
Aa Harvey Nov 2018
Reality


Missing home, because I feel at home;
It’s difficult to accept change.
Walking in circles with no direction to roam;
Remembering all those other ways.


Feeling lost, like I am trapped in a six foot box.
They say cats like to play in empty boxes.
Dancing on, never learned to foxtrot;
In this place there does not exist any foxes.


Waiting on change, waiting all day;
Waiting for tomorrow, waiting on change.
Tomorrow is a whole day away.
24 straight; try reading again.
Lost my place, found my pain.
I need my independence to make a change.


Cannot cook because they will not teach me.
Feeling bored, like I have been here for eternity.
All I want is a little normality.
That is not my reality.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ayush Gangwar Nov 2018
One day I'll spread out my hands to get you in my arms ...
One day I'll drag you in my story of love ...
One day I'll get your hand in my hand ..
One day I'll kiss your hands so warm;

One day I'll show you what you mean to me ..
One day I'll make you listen how my heart beats ..
One day I'll take you to a world beyond imagination...
One day I'll give you all the  happiness you want.

One day I'll kiss you on your cheeks ...
One day I'll make you blush like the princess..
one day I'll take up all your pains ..
One day I'll heal all your wounds ;

All you need to do is trust me deep ...
All you need to do is show faith in me ...
I promise i will give you the best you deserve ...
And show you why i luv you till infinity.

I am in love and a guy in love is so very mad...
Madness of your love is so intense you won't believe ...
One day I'll run up to you with all l have with me ...
That day I'll propose you and tell you why you're my destiny...
Love is beyond any comparison. Just you do is to feel it
Brynn S Nov 2018
Burning hole
Creator of flesh
Burn into me
Miss sweet sleep
Follow broken glass
Perpetual numbness
The numbers add
Armies formed
The night of blood
Creeks of clear
Walks so silent
Two feet
Attack pavement
Sit for awhile
Rest your head
No not hurt
Swallow those dead.
Olivia McCann Nov 2018
I slurp down
a salty golden liquid
full of lacerated noodles and flakes
which glisten in their own yellowed oil spill.

I tip the bowl to my mouth
and it fills my stomach from the bottom.

She's made it just for me,
just in time for my despair
although she didn't know that
when she made it.

I'm sick!
I tell her.
I was.

Fever, achy joints,
pits of nausea, and silicone pain,
the works.

I'm getting better.
there is just a dull ache left
but I am still sick
in the head.

A head where plays
a tug of war between
anguish with a goofy hat
and comedy with a noose.

My body gets dragged along with
my chemical eruptions
both biological
and habit-forming,
and my body grows tired.

The soup goes down quick;
the main course after leftovers from lunch.
And all of it fizzles in my belly.

A cigarette might help all of it a little.
Except for the despair.
The soup is for my despair.
Rebecca Nov 2018
When I die, I hope it is like my dreams.
In that way, death would not be so fearful,
A remedy for my thoughts when I sleep.
In return, I dream of my death by this
Stuff that so haunts my dreams. To be scorns of
Time and its aching length, calamity
Of so long life. Yet we so dread something
After death, a no-mans land from where no
One shall return – this makes us bear our ills.
We fight. We suffer. We are wounded, all.
So we are cowards that do fear our deaths,
For we fear the unknown, those we know not.
Instead we dream that dying is dreaming,
To sooth our conscience and minds from unreeling.
After a close reading of Hamlet's 'To be, or not to be', I chose elements of it to base this sonnet on as a response and a helpful tool to understand part of its meaning a little better.
Ali Ashraf Nov 2018
A madman doesn't need to wander
in jungles and desert sand
he carries the raving madness
within his chest, within himself

his shirt torn, his heart ripped
his eyes shedding tears of blood
his repute lost, his senses gone
he stands there proclaiming to be God

such is the ecstasy of true love
such a state of a lover can be
he wanders seven heavens within a glimpse
and puts the universe under his feet

© Ali Ashraf
I'm a sociopathic narcissist with suicidal tendencies
I never had no friend disease
I only see in enemy's
And eat these evil entities for energy
And hope they will be the end of me  
But something lives inside of me
And controls everything I'm meant to be mentally
Says I'm free from empathy and sympathy
With out no remedy
Now I'm pretty sure there's something your not telling me
Something that's propelling me to therapy
And never ever can it let me be
Simpley Ill sell my dignity for equality
Take bear s* but no goldly locks wants to swallow me
But you can follow me
It how it has to be
Drastically rapidly pulling apart your anatomy.
Deep in the game but only catch birds
Like a mathematically **** dastardly
Only FRACTIONLY
dhinesh murugan Nov 2018
Cry
There are people who don't cry
Either
they don't want to cry
or
They have no more tears to shed.
Your tears are more valuable than you think
InsertPenName Oct 2018
Missing you is like that pain that is as disheartening as it a symbol of living
As long as we bleed, we live
Missing you is like poison in the air we can't stop breathing
Missing you is like listening to addictive melody putting us to grave
The sane's music is on repeat trying to block out the memory that is your voice
Missing you is like gazing at the moon: always in sight but never within reach
Missing you is that cliche in the story we fall prey to
Now we pray that you, maybe miss us a little too...
Now we're missing you, while we drink voices to fill our head with
Missing you is like that music ringing, bringing about...
Delicious Ruin to this mind
Even though our ears bleed from the sound—
Missing you is like that music that is never loud enough..
Next page