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Megan May 2018
We were always crazy kids with crazy dreams.
And we never changed.
Crazy kids.
With their crazy ideas.
Ideas of world peace and of no hunger.
These crazy kids they say.
But I’m one of them.
A crazy kid with her own crazy ideas.
Crazy dreams.
Dreams full of nothing but the future.
Crazy girl. With your crazy thoughts.
Stop for a second.
They’ll say give up.
Don’t do it crazy kid.
Don’t ever look back.
Or down. Or away.
Crazy kid with your crazy thoughts.
What will you think of next?
I want to progress... I want to change things.
Anne Kho May 2018
Don't just think
That our eyes are filled with rebellion
We a have desire for a better world
Add on your story if you can relate, your voice, everyday
People trapped in busy days, gettimg swept away
So stop pretending you're safe and sound
It's just a cycle of being perpetrators and victims
Why we say go louder.

We're so young
We're so freaky
We're trapped inside, losing what's real
We be screaming "GO"

Another pain, another page
Another song, this one
If no one can understand me
Then my dream will make you understand
Shout even louder, go
Trust your ego and for everything else, eyes closed
This isn't just my monologue
We're dreaming together, dreamers shout back.
Sorry for being inactive. I was caught up with school work and such.
Hope you are satisfied with my poem.  Thank you
sarah Mar 2018
long winding roads
will you ever end?
this place
is starting to look
a lot like home;
pine trees
and fields
as far as
the eye can see.
golden rays
warming my skin,
and illuminating
the sky
as we settle
into a new world.
yellow-thoughts Jan 2018
why can't we buy and sell emotions?
let's make a new world where we could?
shall we?

i would sell my joy i guess
it's really annoying i can't stand it
because it's comes and goes when it pleases

and i would buy trust
because it would be pleasing
to count on someone

what would you sell or buy?
anger, fear, shame, envy or sadness?
courage, confidence, patience, kindness or love?

join me in this mystery..

moziq Aug 2017
we woke up from our dream.
The playground was empty, the swings barely touched by toddlers.

We wanted too be like mommy when mommy is on drugs and daddy can't be found.

It's so hard trying to remember the last time you preferred soda over ***** because soda doesn't make you forget the pain as well.

Can you believe we really did sit on those swings, wanted to watch reruns and drink soda?

Even wanted to be like our parents for a time?

It may look nice, cheerful, and happy as can be but its cold out here in the world and sometimes I'm happy I woke up.

I know that its not unicorns and sugar-pops all around but, there are times I wish I was oblivious to my indigenous home.

Friend we woke up a long time ago but you handled it differently than I.
So differently that you were dreaming again just a new dream.

I only wonder when you will wake up this time.
Dr Strange May 2016
Let's be real
My poetry isn't what it use to be
I use to write these poetic lines that made you nod your head to the beat
Made you rise from your seat and do a 360 just to hear me speak
But now if that is what you seek
I'm sorry to disappoint but all you will see is me struggling
Living the recession to the fullest
Unable to connect the dots that float right in front of me
Yes, this is one of those stories
About how one of the greats have fallen from the heavens he once resided
The only difference is I was never a great
I'm just a simple minded being who seeks peace for society's sake
But that's kind of hard when society gets off on war
Creating these war torn third world countries who can't even breathe the air they live off on
Then again I'm only 18 so who am I to call out society and its perfect system that has been in play for centuries
So let me just close my mouth now and send you on your marry little way
But before I go there is just one last thing I would like to say

Act now before it is too late.
Shaylie Pryer Apr 2016
The screen is our religion,
dreary eyed and mouth wide open we are absorbed into the graphics.
Swirling around us on the the Tv plane are the stories,
“breaking news” we are breaking ourselves,
because the tendrils come shooting out and grasp our brain feeding us poison.
Our soul carers called the democratic love playing dress up,
a wolf in sheep's clothing,
and while they play we are neglected,
bad parenting.

We don't get to play,
we are the ants,
in systematic order, we provide,
the only time we get to play is when we retreat inside our mind.
Then we become the stereotype “ignorance is bliss”
while the world falls to pieces, is it because we voted for this?
We are the ones in control and yet we have no power,
we lounge inside, the clock is ticking by the hour.
The world is broke with each secret kept,
each person pretending that its okay,
while the connected, open minded ones feel powerless and hide away.
Marquis Green Mar 2016
At the impasse.
Sometimes, one wishes they never let go of the dismay they feel when leaving love.
For it is this pain that reminds us of things said,
Things felt.
A truth split between two beings leaving nothing but a pure trail of destructive emotion between them.
We never felt the wake we left,
We always felt the earth move when our lips touched.
As forgetful as the moments we confessed in that motel bedroom,
To the blatant attraction we shared as we stared into each other's eyes under the sunrise,
And the note you left for me.
I promised this moment would last forever.
You swore this was reality,
But it was really just a fantasy.
Delusions lead us to a promised future,
But we were really just trading away false dreams for a mutual benefit.
A mended heart will eventually shatter again.
Until we meet again.
Maybe I gave too much to you at once.
An art form in courting lost,
I thought I had a hunch.
Just a mishandled bunch of actions with no conclusion.
Now we depart and tell our own monologues.
And we will always remember our unwritten epilogue.

Its been fun.

I have finally found my way back to land and though 20 years have passed,
I have the ability to adapt and will find my own way.

All my notes have come to you, and we have spoken back and forth through the whispers of the night air becoming a chilling wave of numbness.

This was never my story, this was always ours.
Told two voices over with no true connection,
Other than the ink that was bottled up and threw out to sea.

This is the story of Genesis, and how I was able to find me.
Brian Payamps May 2015
Living in a world where is based on what you have then who you are. Where everyone is different in the same way. So who really is unique? Where attraction is based what you give not what you bring. Poetic justice doesn't exist. Burning down a city is not really freedom. But who am I to preach, if I sin every day. Why would God forgive? In a world where everything is for sale even self esteem I'm still having a issue with mine. In a world where everything is for sale but I won't buy. I still believe in being me. Lost touch with the art but I still believe in me. Lost the love for the world but I still dream. Lost the one, she wasn't the Poetress I was looking for. **** this new world.
At 13 I dreamed of a million... at 23 I see money is not everything. But in this new world money is everything and everything has a price.
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