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FS-30 Feb 2021
At one point in life,
This is what I dreamt of.
I thought it all made sense.
So why am I here
Peering over the fence?
The grass is always greener.
Kameea Demons Feb 2021
I liked you better when I liked you.
The snow may fall

But I'll hold my tears
Alone I face my haunting fears

The snow may fall

Against my tongue
But I feel nothing, all is numb

The snow may fall

Atop my home
Unlike those flakes, I'm all alone

The snow may fall

Yet never land
For this is it, my final stand.
The snow outside my window inspired this one.
sometimes, my moods go

up
     and
            down
      like
this

but usually, my moods go

HSHEHESGUDHAKDODJSBSJSOALJDVSJSJDHSHIDIEKSHDHWOPWORKWNBDBVXKSLW­ORIUEUWYSHWBWKEKRJBEBD
my first happy poem ever lol
kimkt22 Jan 2021
i wanna touch your hands
and dance with you tonight
our feet touch the ground
dance around through city and lights
now i look at the stars
to keep you in my life
i'm frighten now
without you here tonight
kimkt22 Jan 2021
"feeling like the night i sleep why isn't enough
people walk while i'm climbing to the mountain top
there's nothing means when you break it up and fade away
i'm jumping  to the hell and try to make you stay
when you want me jump i knees down and cry
i was stabbed  by your knife you said goodbye"
goodnight everyone from little thai girl πŸ‘§
Orakhal Jan 2021
but I'm not that

the feeling
of a cuddled cat
Isamarie Jan 2021
Forget your lousy text, and leaving me on the edge.

I feel uneasy sometimes not knowing where this will end.

But if I stay any longer.
I’m going to fuel the fire.

All of it was false hope sprinkled with desire.

Like an honey your words tasted so sweet but stung like a bee.

This soon will be gone.
Until you keep playing those same old songs.

10/24/19
sophie Jan 2021
3.
she felt so very tired
bags found refuge under her eyes
and the sahara desert on her tongue
she ate her breakfast
she drank her tea
she felt so very tired
not my best, done while tired
Evan Stephens Jan 2021
The white flowers
will not arrive
by stallion, nor
by lightning.

The stolid courier
will knock, a door
swinging; a suitable
place prepared.

In the cold district,
the exploded heads
of trees look back at me:
why didn't I save them?

Even the sun seems lopped.
But in the face of it
I will stand, have coffee,
& be reminded of you.

It's 6:30, and the sky
turns a spoiled milk shade
before tripping
in its hurry to arrive.
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