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mistakes you never
learn from
a concept worth messing with
conversing with a *****
got the better of me
started thinking,
growth is the same
as leprosy
could a lesson in empathy
come for free?
could i be forever
mistaking a lesson with irony
iron out the wrinkles
then get back to me
then get back to me
cassandra Mar 2021
thought you were
a waiting-to-be-written song
but you were just a lyric
and you proved me wrong
Melody Mann Feb 2021
Now she scripts her story,
to comprehend a broken promise you led her to believe.

Left stranded she sits with empty wishes,
reality shifted and demasked the charade performed.

This truth weighs down harder with each passing hour,
demystifying the future she thought known.

Trusting their situation,
she had fallen prey to the captivation,
from this illusive trance she wakens,
and realizes she was mistaken.
Payton Feb 2021
She sang with a beauty that made the sun shine brighter with every tune that floated up to the sky.
But one day she stopped singing.
A strange little boy told her, that no one gave a single **** about her little ditties.

She didn't cry.

She simply stopped singing, and went on about her life.
She kept to herself and the world began to wonder why everything seemed so quiet.
Then the sun stopped shining.
He couldn't go on, making the world a brighter place, if she couldn't sing her songs to him each day.
One night, the moon visited the girl.

"My child, you know that the Sun longs to hear your voice again. Do not worry what little boys tell you, they cannot make the music that you can. This night will last for many years if you do not raise your voice. Go on, summon the Sun."

Reluctantly, she stepped outside, and with a rusty voice,  she sang as loudly and as honestly as she could.

And as tears rolled down her cheeks, the Sun rose in the east, with tears that evaporated into steam as quickly as they came.

And the strange boy fell in love with the way she looked
to him when she sang to the sky.
This poem was written in 2016. It's inspired by the Legend of Zelda. :)
Kim Essary Dec 2020
Searching to find myself assuming I was lost
Reality was no more or no less than my thoughts
I searched far and near only to find I was nowhere near lost only mistaken
Visions of who I am and how I should be
Remained squabbled and tossed inside of me
For the way I wanted and expected my life was the furthest from the way I could see
Atlas now I know I can find my way although I no not to where
I found I was no longer lost , only mistaken
Things aren’t always as they appear
Man Nov 2020
cutting the brush away
only to discover thorns
this prickly cactus person
who has become burdensome
in their self-loathing
is no more a plant for my ***
to spare a drop
i should want not
and waste none
Felicity Smoak Nov 2020
from long ago,
filled with memories
you thought you forgot.

every moment seeps
back into focus.
I remember it,
just how it was
in the pictures.


I remember it.

it has been
2 years
3 years
5 years
6 years
8 years
9 years
even 10 years.

I remember it.

every moment seeps
back into focus.
I remember it,
just how it was
in the pictures.

I wish I didn't.

what once brought
now brings

what once brought
now brings

what once brought
now brings

I am no longer
instead I am

I no longer
have purpose,
instead I am

I no longer
feel comfortable,
I am troubled.

every moment seeps
back into focus.
I remember it.
I remember it
so well.

I wish I didn't.

Sometimes even your closest friends decide to leave, too. And then all you have left is memories, in pictures.
Laokos Aug 2020
i'm no good, but
here I am anyway,
typing words
into poems.

i'm afraid that
all this is
a waste of time.
that I read some
poetry somewhere
long ago and
mistakenly believed
that I too could
do that.

but I can't
help it,
these words still
show up

when they
don't end
Andrew Rueter Jul 2020
Don’t mistake my kindness for strength
or my treaties for tanks
or my beatings for banks
I’ll bleed just from blanks
then I’ll flee to the flank
to get free from their spanks.

All the mistakes
my mind makes
are mind snakes
of blind faith
that finds fate
in grind grates.

You must be mistaken
when you say I’m misshapen
and there’s no way I’m this craven
I just look for a bliss haven
where I can kiss mavens.

You must have me mistaken for someone who cares
I’m someone who cares too much
I make too many mistakes to bear
and lose your touch.

You say you have no ***** to give
because it ***** to live
without bucks to bid
on the luck to win
so you shuffle spin
off my ruffled ridge
for muscled sin.

It was a mistake talking to you
mistaking the color red for blue
mistaking what you said as true
that you had a bed for two
until I read the news
you had the best to choose
so I bled and bruised
mistaking your clues.
vanessa ann Apr 2020
you were my home then,
the warmth in my fireplace, my
chest purifier, key finder;
whenever i leave you clung to me like dirt on the dishes
i carry with me your sickness for
love, for good.

somewhere between morning calls and warm bedsheets, i took
your hospitality for kindness for authenticity for love for truth
i was still drying my hair on your bathroom mat when you rang
the bell, and reminded me it’s time for
my checkout.
—i hope you enjoyed my stay
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