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Hannah Jones Nov 2020
Everyone
is living out
their own brand
of mediocrity--
nothing stellar
occurs outside of
humble parts
coming together
and turning into
stardust.
Sometimes my heart breaks when I recall that the people in my life aren't any better or worse off than I am, and that the small moments are what make my heart long for eternity. We'll be alright.
Alex Scaife Jul 2020
I - Mediocrity

I'd give my flesh just for one ounce
Of your genius. In my mediocrity
I turned the extraordinary
Into the ordinary.
You made a symphony from lost
Moments, only you knew their worth!

Ashamed, I scorned you. Forgive me
For we are both lonely orphans

II - Time

I sit waiting.
Each day,
Just waiting. Still,
Waiting.
For anything.
A sign
Of gods' favour
Perhaps.
Always a fool.
A fool,
Always.

III - Fading Footnote

All I am becomes faint.
You just take, consume all.
A greedy little child
Worth more than my being.

A desperate orphan,
I want love and it shows.
I am discarded for
My needy requests. Shame.

You need no love and
Are loved for it. Cruel God!

IV - Haiku for  Atonement

Two souls have diverged
Jealous, I scorned your beauty
Tired, I scorn no more
A poem about jealousy and some other things. Being long I imagine I probably spelt something wrong
KMarie Feb 2020
Many times our hearts settle
Long before we know
What love is
Before we have a chance to grow
And what if we have missed
The chance at loving
Having never been kissed
By one who completes us
In ways we will never know
For mediocrity and safety
At the cost of never feeling
What it’s like to be on fire
From the inside
Jim Marchel Jan 2020
Why shine
When you could gleam?

Why sleep
When you could dream?

Why cry
When you could weep?

Why chime
When you could sing?

Why fly
When you could soar?

Why try
Life's endeavors?
"Against every great and noble endeavor stand a thousand mediocre minds."

- George S. Robinson
"Envoys of Mankind: A Declaration of First Principles for the Governance of Space Societies"
yousuf Jan 2020
How can I blame it on anger
when I know it’s wearing masks
the veil of anxiety looms
over my incompetence
slowly it becomes rage
jealousy fuels the flame
anger is all that’s exhibited

Despair and depression
making me numb
the wonders around me
loses its charm
the mind races
nothing makes sense
the body craves comfort
the soul seeks a home
Enveloped by dumb babies
Who cannot read a word
I'd rather be a-flyin'
Till then I'll just be dead.
(Bled 'n' bleedin', dyin', nothin' new, goo-goo.)
Prefer a cradle to a sty
But babies love to waddle
No wonder people play with knives
And babies love the bottle.
(I Love the Sky.)
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2019
.
Flowers so rare and fine,
Missing from this dry world,
Lost, unwatered, unseen, yet
No ones and none despaired,
They then planted their garish
Seed in blot sun, most sodden,
Soppy soils sprayed which fell
On the plainest, most commoner
Grounds, such fertile dirt, wrought,
Then, all who came to view where
But gaggles of proud mediocrity
Who arrived to revel and preen,
Unjust, they remade this earth,
Once lively, to be lame, what
Celebrations they now need
What praises they do crave,
Sadly, they could not know,
A flower for the weeds.
.
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