Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Indigo Nov 2020
“Be yourself,”
But then they tell me to change.
“Be unique,”
But then they frown down on all my differences.
“Don’t conform,”
But then they force me to follow their standards.
“Always love yourself,”
But then they call me narcissist and arrogant.
“Be kind,”
But then they tell me to stop being fake.
“Just relax,”
But then they call me lazy.
“Work harder,”
But then they call me too uptight.
“Money can’t buy happiness,”
But then they laugh at me for not being rich.
“Weight doesn’t matter,”
But then they tell me I’m not skinny enough.
“Enjoy being young while you can,”
But then they tell me to grow up.
“It’s okay to be sad,”
But then they tell me other people have it worse.
“Do what you love,”
But then they tell me I’ll never be successful.
“You’ll be okay,”
But then they leave me for someone else.
“It will get better,”
But then they tell me that I’m being overdramatic.
“Be yourself,”
But I no longer know who that is.
This is what I feel still, almost a year and a half later. But I'm still gonna be whoever I ******* want to be... and that's me.
Ricki Nov 2020
I am the pendulum that swings
left.                                                           ­                                 
                                                                ­                                          right.   left.                                                
           ­                         right.
left.              
         right.
I find myself in equilibrium, now, nothing is afflicting me.
the slightest nudge-- a gentle push
and
now I'm swinging violently.
left.                                                           ­                                 
                                                                ­                                          right.   left.                                                
           ­                         right.
left.              
         right.
  Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Why can't I think?
I'm left.                                                            ­                                
                                                                ­                                     I'm right.  
I'm left.                                                
           ­                            I'm right.
I'm left.              
            I'm right.
I can't breathe.
I've lost my sight--
blinded by the salted tears I breathe, and choking on my tongue,
I can't think.
I can't speak.
Why are you screaming at me?
I am the pendulum that swings
left.                                                           ­                                 
                                                                ­                                          right.   left.                                                
           ­                         right.
left.              
         right.
Breathe. Stop Crying. It's fine. I'm fine.
I'm alright,
I'll just brace myself for another ******* night of swinging
left.                                                   ­                                         
                                                                ­                                          right.   left.                                                
           ­                         right.
left.              
         right.
I haven't wrote a poem in like a year oops
Sophia L Nov 2020
live-
like no one cares
laugh-
like no one’s there
cry-
like no one stares

be rare
you will be there
Flatfielder Nov 2020
Nourishing moment
Drop stuns a face
Rolling down a windshield
An amazing race
Earth's yearnings
For the nectar of Life
Witnessed on grey mornings
When hope wins over doubt
(c)near_lane7
On instagram
Mirakee
(c)near_lane7
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
Like, no rivers
I'm an ocean
I stay calm
And deep
Till the phases of the Moon
Change the mood
Yet
Still I'm an ocean
With some tidal waves
Till it settles
Back to normal

Still
Ocean, I am
Ocean, I remain
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Dope
आमा भन्छिन्
उचाल्ने, थेचार्ने मान्छेहरु
धर्तीका छालहरु हुन्
तिमी समुद्र हुनु
Dereaux Nov 2020
In the peace
and solitude of the room
I want to write one last poem
the candle searches diligently for fuel
soon I see the last glimpse of it's light

Just one more glass then
one last drink on this day
which slowly slides to her end
and morning light
may greet us tomorrow

The candle extinguishes
I am alone
and in the light of the moon
it is dark and quiet on the street
the poem is written
and it's time
to go to bed.
Aphasia Nov 2020
I want to write a poem
Because poems are.
Poems talk
Poems throw themselves across the page with all the fierceness of an unhinged toddler
Poems are careful
Poems **** people off
Poems shred the written word and scatters it in rhythm you either love or despise
Poetry is the song you forgot the lyrics to
And the words
And the singer
But not the mood.
I want to be a poem.
Quarantine. Isolation. A podcast about Goodnight Moon and the history of children's literature. These are the ingredients to bring a long gone poet back to paper. One impulsive poem, maybe more to follow.
The fire ignites at take-off
And grows as I exit the stratosphere.
But it burns even hotter upon re-entry.
I am often at my brightest right before
A crash landing.
Kofi ye Oct 2020
looking
through my gallery
to find the epitome of throwbacks
to be posted on social media
the struggle
i’m tired
thinking out loud
on what’s really important
the memories gone
or
the present ?
dear reader please enlighten me
Next page