Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ʜAᴋAɱ May 15
I been helping,
This time its,
⠀⠀⠀⠀not my fault'
So if there a day,
⠀⠀⠀⠀its gone.

Alive or dead..

My life and day had,
⠀⠀⠀⠀been suffering
u'll find me hangging,
⠀⠀⠀⠀in this land
Rotten peace of world,
⠀⠀⠀⠀can't be true
Did I make, a mistake?
Even they point at me,
⠀⠀⠀⠀its still wrong
Right now I dont know,
⠀⠀⠀⠀who should I trust.

Not even my family,
One person,
⠀⠀⠀⠀ want me gone
That day we meet and,
⠀⠀⠀⠀wreak my life..

Awful to feel betrayal,
⠀⠀⠀⠀face to face.

So then if your reading,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ this
U'll be next to die,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ beside me
Im waiting for that,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ day to come
Can you see its already,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ beside you
Its, opportunity for me
Death is looking at,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ your soul
Eager to meet you,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ to other side..

Hell had gone, down
Earn for heaven, land
Like the day, I meet you
Price of love that been,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ broken apart.

My life is, meaning less
Enjoy, to see you run!
Clue,less seeing you to find that.. :)
I know that when I’m gone
you will mock me for my selfishness
for taking my life away from you
but please know,
that I lived my life bound by selflessness
I lived to serve and please
I recited my poems in rehearsal
so my last words could comfort you
and you’d never feel to do the same as I
I scar my flesh to bear my cross
So you may never have to.
Please know,
I lived every day confined by others needs
I listened to your woes
I starve my body to bear your cross
So you may never have to.
Know that this last act I take isn’t selfish
That my last act is one of freedom
It will be my only act of self-indulgence
in my life of catering you.
my final act is one of freedom
I died to please myself
dear basil,

i promise i'll go to sleep soon
as long as you promise you'll smile at me
if you see me in public

i swear i'll fix my posture
if you swear to celebrate your birthday this year

and i pinkie swear that i'll love you
if you always love me back

please get enough sleep and sit a little straighter (ahahh, no pun intended. if ykyk) and don't forget to love your--water **

“Flightless bird, American mouth..." She sang as she sways her curvy body in the middle of an empty room. I saw how she smiles at the thought of a man dancing along with her, I wish that was me.

The long hallways were as easy to stroll by—as I love feeling the paintings nailed on the wall, I once discerned the lovely voice I always want in my system. She was singing her favorite song again; "I was a quick wet boy diving too deep for coins..." I remember how it became my lullaby every time I could not fall asleep and I lay there, reminiscing every words, every note she is hitting, I remember how I can compare her to a painting. Where an art is a compliment by being in its unique state and at the same time, the bitterness of being complicated.

She was a painting, I could never outgrow of. She was a flightless bird, I am a side character who longs for her, who gazes at her swaying her curvy body back and forth—her lips tainted like grey clouds forming another rain. Her skin as rough as my palm sketching another art—her feet closer than the ground, neighboring with the coldness of the white marble tiles; I stood there longing for her. I stood there, raised my hand and waved through her direction.

Even when she could not see, she was my prized possession I will ne'er have.

She stopped and peaked at the door where I no longer stand and I breathed a sigh of relief—this time, it will never hurt to leave. I smiled, she will never know.

Her sweet dance in the empty room is what ruled in my head, she will never be gone out of my head.

...and now, I bleed for being lost without her. My flightless bird.
This is heavily inspired by the most legendary song there ever was, for me. 'Flightless bird, American mouth' by Iron & Wine
If you see this note
I want you to know
It's not my fault
If love is starting to show.
So when I flinch at your touch
It isn't because of a crush
You just...made me jump.
When my cheeks go red
After you touch my leg
I'm not flustered, but...just something else instead!
It's just sugar and veins
that make me feel like I'm fizzing
And it's just habit
To hold your hand when I see you
Maybe I'm wrong and I do love you
Is that what I'm supposed to say?
Would that take these thoughts away?
But it's not like there's anything I could do
It's not like just this note would get all my thoughts through.
Mahima khatun Mar 19
She had a dream ,where she can fly ,where she can go anywhere
Where she can talk with nature, with beautiful nature
So she wrote a poetry on a red little diary.
She was broken, had a heavy heart
Her eye's were shining with the drops of tear
She were looking still beautiful
However she was going through the pain which is known by no one.
So she wrote a poetry on that red little diary.

She fell in love with a boy ,she got a new hope ,she got new dreams
She got a feeling of happiness and love was glowing on her face.
So she wrote a poetry, a poetry of love
On that red little diary.
She kissed by him,her heart was beating fast
He hold her hands,pulled her closer and took the taste of her lips
Her first love ,her first kiss.
So she wrote a poetry on that old little diary.

She got married, she got pregnant, she gave birth to a baby.
A baby girl, a sweet little beautiful baby girl,looks like an angel
So she wrote another poetry,a poetry of an angel,
You know it where,on that same old diary.
Her whole life was a poetry
Her happiness, sadness, dreams, hopes ,love
Her everything has written in poetry on a red little diary, isn't it .......?
Sometimes our life really seems like a poetry, it may not read by anyone or known by anyone.its just a poetry, sometimes happy and sometimes a sad one .............
MB Mar 18
The girl with the bright blonde hair
drawing hearts on her notes with no care,
with her hand always raised
and always getting praised.

But one day she fell into a lull,
overtime her hair seemed to dull,
her seat moved farther back,
and new clothes all shades of black.

Maybe I should have taken it as a sign,
but she always swore she was fine-
I wonder if she would call me fake
if I were to show up at her wake.

From a boy who never said hi,
to a girl who committed suicide.
left to wonder if she would have said hi back
Lowkie Feb 19
I wish I could go back in time
To tell that little boy it's okay to cry
Pour your heart out until
Your tears go dry
Because it will hard to move forward
If you don't give 'letting go' a try
I wish I could go back in time
To tell that little boy to practice his rhymes
Perform to your friends in your free time
I know you got a lot your mind
But no matter what the voices say
You never stop the climb
To reach your prime
I wish I could go back in time
To commit a crime
By changing what happened in the past
And alter the present
In hopes of a better future
sea sparkle:
turns out that’s the name of a real thing,
a phenomenon.

i’ll write that down as a note for later poems
but then by mistake,
i let the sheet float away
through a window that i left open
only for it to find its way to the waters
and sink down to the bottom of the ocean
Next page