Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sydney Marie Sep 2015
Ive become
this permifried *****
this unintelligent underachiever
this messy mistake
The drugs in me now are nothing compared to what you did to me
Ryan Lindsey Sep 2015
We nurture the mind so that it can be pretty and sufficient
We nurture our hearts so that it can pour compassion and sympathy

The mind is sick
Your heart is weak
So now you sit to riddle and weep.
Moral low
Sanctum none
But yet im blamed for something noones done?
I work
I try
Why am i given that pathetic sigh?
I cry for passion
It is my feelings I ration
Im called lazy
And hazy
Im sick Im sick
Im angry im ******
I believe in HUMANITY cant anyone give a ****?
Im exhausted and lost it I need repercaution.
Give me my MIND
I DEMAND MY SOUL BUT ITS AS BLACK AS COAL
I demand respect and that is correct don't look at me like a reject you insect. You infect everything pure and select but u don't seem to neglect the fact that THIS IS MY MIND, MY SOUL, I LIVE I LIVE I LIVE I LIVE
EXPRESSION AND GODS DEVINE INTERVENTION ALL EXIST UNDER MY INSPECTION. LAST I HEARD GOD NEVER TOOK REJECTIONS.
I want TO LOVE
I WANT TO GIVE
GIVE MELIFE
I CAN LIVE
BABIES CRYING
BABIES CRYING
BABIES
CRYING
mvvenkataraman Jul 2015
Life goes on with a daily dawn
No time to make a single yawn
Many decades have sadly gone
Still, no leisure time is born
Head despite pillows has thorn
To be calm, my soul, I warn
Due to losses, heart is torn
For past debacles, fate, I scorn
I hope during night and morn
But, life is to fear a meek pawn
Rarely, mind, peace does adorn
As, my heart, it tries to ****
Heart tirelessly tries to wisely horn.

mvvenkataraman
Sadly time gets wasted, Joy is yet to be tasted, Day and night soon go out of sight, A vacuum prevails and soul sorrowfully ails, I hope, God will help, By beating agonies to a pulp.
celey Jul 2015
the scrapping of rubber shoes
on the pavement alarm me
frantically gliding as if
in search of something

the halls are suddenly
narrower than yesterday
and all the other days before

this always happens
whenever i am rushing
and i am always rushing
so i wonder why i'm always
surprised to find myself this distraught
when its color isn't pretty on me
just making everyday happenings like  being late for class dramatic
We've got bigger heads but narrower minds.
Why there is always a boundary between our heart and mind?

©IGMS
China | war| Philippines

It is just a piece of a land

Why not sharing instead of battling?
Ava Ayo Mar 2015
I like looking at the narrow spaces
Between houses as the train passes by.

I like looking at the narrow spaces
Because they remind me of my childhood.
The empty narrow inches of space
Between two enormous brick houses
I'd obliviously pass by while playing tag,
Smiling from ear to ear,
Leaving only a narrow space for my teeth.
Running from dusk until dawn,
Leaving only a narrow space for bruised knees and tears.

And now the narrow spaces I pass every day
Between worn out houses in the city
Remind me of my heart.
So big, yet so full of others' pain
That all I have is narrow spaces
Reserved for my own joy.
And now the narrow spaces I pass every day
Between graffitied houses in the city
Remind me of my brain.
So tagged with useless information,
Yet so little space to paint true knowledge on.

And so I stare at the narrow spaces
Between houses as the train passes by
While I'm on my way
To waste the tiny chunks of time I have left
Hoping to widen the narrow spaces
Of my soul.
epictails Mar 2015
One sees the world
in a straight line
but it is in fact round
and round
with curves
and turns
and it is wide
and expansive
and encompassing

Though someday he'll hit
a dead end
and fall  to a complete ruin
with his
distorted eyes
For the hypocrites who only see one side of a story
Kalia Eden May 2014
very short reach very high climb
very all yours very not mine
very not wood very much pine
very too rust very dull shine
very not real
very fun time very time
very time
consuming
very narrow
as it is buried
very deep
inside your lips
and it tips and turns and crashes and
leave it on the table where it’s easy to find
you wouldn’t ever want to leave it behind
please
praise
the
feet
that
move
you
play the song that we know the words to
play the song that we know
we know
the song that plays us
we know.
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
I am in levels. Past levels. This deep, intrinsic wonderful lost, the lawlessness of its fascinating expenditure of excite. Pushing through the wild and feral snow-dusted plains and timber ridges. Like red-spotted dots breathing through the cylinders called the spine. This descends into a narrow channel of scantly clad greenish scenery in a time-soaked visionary wilderness of snow,
Our crab legs dancing down wiry purple highways, our heads could not even look backwards if we had wanted.

Furious, love-latitudes, stalking breaths thwacking fork-ended tongues into a pinkish knot buried into the first layer of organic membrane on this railway of miniature canals, showing. And their pride snuck into the elbows, shooting down each vertebrae as it stepped with great precision every ledge that the currency emphasized. The raw accumulation of stolen heart-beats rattling between the interstices of new fuel careering these red engines. Crashing with exquisite pleasure into one another.

— The End —