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My words don't Shake like William's,
nor, do they Frost like Robert's.
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My words barely lead the Way like Ernest's,
nor, do they have Hughes like Langston's. 
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I don't know how much my Wordsworth like William's,
nor, do my words keep people ******* like Edward's.
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My words are far from an Angel like Maya's,
 and they are barely Lovecraft like Howard's.
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Indeed I profess, my words cannot do those listed things, but, my words can be a great expression of me.
×
(sumairu•¶oetry)
Hannah Nov 2019
O timeless sloth, I must with thee abide,
Let it be not to my own destruction.
Another life from me thou must divide,
Say to me t’was of mine own instruction!

I cling desperately to thine branches
I must weather the slings and arrows of
Most untimely sharp commands, and blanches
At my staunch resoluteness thereof.

Cease! Cease! See not the moss amongst my hairs,
Nor my talon-like nails, still, motionless.
Judge not, entwined as thou art in bland affairs
In your gray monuments to boastfulness

For nothing is equal to nothing.
To mime futile work is all but bluffing.
Today I wrote my first ever sonnet while procrastinating :))
Sian Rogers Nov 2019
I'm sinking
Trying so hard to stay afloat
I'm thinking
Where can I find a lifeboat
I'm dreaming
Of a place far away
I'm drowning
Can I ever be saved

I'm running
To the place in my dreams
I'm hiding
From the monster inside of me
I'm slowing
The fog is catching me
I'm swimming
Trying so hard to stay afloat

I'm trying
Trying to find a better me
NN Nov 2019
The song of green and brown,
whispered by the wind through countless branches and leaves.
A touching song sung by many silent hearts,
often perceived as a tender silence.

Captured by nature's beauty and silenced by her song,
moving with the roots as you learn to let yourself go.
Let yourself feel with your lips sealed,
your feet hidden beneath the warm- and cold-coloured leaves.

Leaves that rush by like an everlasting melody of harmony.
-N.N.
NN Nov 2019
Seeking recognition in moments I am not proud of myself,
reassurance of the non-existent.
Stacking insecurities on to a fragile shelf,
just to collapse in to the floor and forget where it even went.
-N.N.
NN Nov 2019
The tenderness in closing your eyes,
as if she were right there.
Holding your picture in a wooden frame,
slowly moving it towards her chest.

Her chin rising as yours sinks,
closing her eyes and lowering her head once again.
A single tear descending with it,
to touch the photo's glass and to dry up next to the others.

Placing the photo back on the shelf,
as you turned your back she does too.
And forgets,
at least, until next morning.

As we both tenderly close our eyes again,
And imagine the other,
doing what they never will.
-N.N.
NN Nov 2019
Rejecting all that is right in front of me,
the sun slowly descending into the sea's horizon.
Imperceptible opportunities lost at sea,
as you won't ever see them rising.

The sun will come up yet once more,
the same phenomenon right in front of you.
Except it no longer holds the opportunity that last time, left shore.
A chance dissolved into a sea of blue.

Take a chance,
Make amends.
-N.N.
NN Nov 2019
The abstractness of solitude,
a vibrant painting in an abandoned exhibition.
As loneliness often viewed,
no longer getting any recognition.

From another viewpoint taken in to consideration,
same colours but an entirely different creation.
Revolving around it and taking a moment,
a new view of the same component.

Solitude as a partner to breathing,
it's all a matter of perceiving.
-N.N.
Vagish Nov 2019
So many tweets and empty streets
Instagram full of posts and hearts with no hopes
long list of Facebook friend and dying alone in the end

Colorful pics of  dark world
trending videos of falling angles
growing business of emotion

Education for growth but of economy
medicine for health but it needs wealth
politics for rise but in bank balance

Let me ask
is the world growing cold or is it the new world??
o
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