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Lexa Apr 4
I should be
a martyr
to society’s ways
I should nod
my head
say yes ma’am
I should play
with children
a big smile
on my face
I should spend
countless hours
doting over
my husband
I should sacrifice
my independence
and become
dependent

I have spent
so many years
learning that
staying true to
myself is more
important than being
a people-pleaser
but now I am
starting to doubt
this so-called
wisdom I
have learned
Would I rather
be right or
be married?
Must I not
sacrifice myself
for the unity
of my marriage?
Amanda Mar 3
Under weight of obligation
Around me
Closing in
Can't breathe the intimacy rising
With the moon pressing light on my skin

Wrapping in pretend happiness
Giving the slightest glimmer of hope
Tell me you'll never give up on me
Stars are afraid you won't

You cannot comprehend the fact
Heart is no longer yours
Wriggled loose from your grasp
Spiteful shouts and banging doors

I withstand worsening suffocation
To bury negative thoughts deep
Seems like in darkness they flourish
Finally out of my mouth they seep

I am sure you'll hate me forever
No more reasons growing to pretend
You would just listen to my words
Realize this is the end

I guess I'll have to be firm
Tired of feeling hopelessly down
Why can't you accept the inevitable?
Can't you see we are unsound?

Beams shaking from resentment
Falling down with a crash
Collapsing emotions loud and shuddering
Love's rafters blown across ground like ash

I am still here picking through the ruins
Obligated to give it my all
Mistakes are what caused us to break
Responsible for letting you fall

It is as if I signed a pledge or oath
Caught in a paperless contract
"I love you" my verbal signature
Written on your heart in black

Again and again try for you
Looking back seems like a waste
Forever a cycle of inadequacy
Repeating mirrored expressions of blatant distaste

The feelings flee further the more we fail
With each missed chance to succeed
I am too messed up to help anyone else
I'll never be all you ever need
Written 10-11-18
melli7 Feb 22
I think I'm turning paranoid,
Or at least a little mean;
I question all the motives
Of those who liked my meme.

The second I get Followed,
I ****-- turn around around to see
If he just wants a "Follow-back"
Or truly likes my feed.

Don't even get me started
On social reciprocation.
IRL I don't do so well;
In virtual, I'm an island nation.

Do I just Like what I like?
Or only what really hits home?
What if it's a horrible post
By someone who loves my poem?

...do you like me? Do you really


like me?
Does it
matter?

I
don't
know
For the record: I'm not referring to anyone specific.
Peter Roads Jan 22
The ones who walk away from us tread heavy
shoes with light hearts; there is a track they left
into darkness. I walk to look but not to see,
blinkers on, for the vision of the future
they do see is now my greatest enemy,
filling horizon wide futures with no
reprieve for time well spent learning half-truth
history doomed to new repeating as we
push our stone in their tracks, bear their mistakes
like albatross best pinned to glittering
chests o’er fluttering breast let they that walk behind
swell our ranks let us hope they can see wider skies
let them be greater than we, wiser than we
Take this stone burden from our heavy brows,
we were too few to change the path, but hold
bright to some weighted pendulum of hope
They will not forgive us for what we could not do,
we are too few, yet they will not forget
as we walk away into twilight in our turn
LC Dec 2019
the people who should protect her
stare into her exhausted eyes 
and hammer nails into her heart.
chains bearing obligation and trauma
coil tighter and tighter around her ankles. 
resisting worsens the sensation -
almost cutting off the circulation
until the pain is so great 
that numbness takes over,
which leads to not resisting,
which feels like resignation - 
and the cycle keeps going.
all she wants is to run freely 
until the nails and chains
are distant memories 
that she will never
pass on to anyone else.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2019
Common instincts to us all, occurrences as we live on
rolling rrrs an' 'idin' gdhs, f' grins and grunts
'uman 'umor ta

Harvesters, Hunters, Herders,

Makers, all. That we had no war,

or none this we can imagine.
Our war is so far past
wars reasons in pasts
called
right-used, good for the goodness made
in
founding of this bubble of national pride we re
side in;
so
that we feel com
pelled - driven as a nail

to say…

Wait-- new voice
fessorial, it fesses this is fact:
ligation in obligation is samesame
ligion in religion,
okeh. a liege oath was never valid, no free re
involved entity may be ligated for a fief,

no soul sould to rock and roll promo **** crossroad
' make y'famous
moonshine story teller bribe
'bout
no spell

I don't care why, just how, for now

words picked as gem facets
flash a flection re
count
the times you've seen things

you
could would
not lieve be true, until

it happened to you right, and yeah,
it was no big deal,

like waking under a bo tree in Asia.
Went fishnfinniginagin, found some whoppers, truth t' tell.
John H Dillinger Sep 2019
Make The Bed

Today I made the bed
so it will invite me back in.

I cut the wood for winter,
stacked it against the house,

for Autumn will begin.

Today I listened to Her,
She told me what I'd missed.

I smiled at the arching sun
knowing where to go,

as if we could ever resist.

My body hums aloud,
I blow into my tea;

The fire sings it's song
As the bed calls out to me.
Mystery Jul 2019
Love so unconditional
assuming all to be perfect,
nothing too traditional.

Fighting for affection
situating everyone ahead of her,
nothing but perfection.

All seems content
though no one aware,
she’s deteriorating to an extent.

Silently suffering from depression
fabricating a smile,
giving the children a positive impression.

Understanding she has an obligation
never utters a word,
but longs dearly for appreciation.

Staying home is indeed a blessing
one all mother’s want,
till the truth is visibly repressing.
Farhan Ahmed Mar 2019
Pouring the body through the bars
Spending the day among the stars
A red sun, like as it bleeds
With a loaded gun, he has to flee

Decorations of a mask, to hide the home of spiders
The troops of smile, to **** the fighters

Looking at the mirror
And it shows what it should
Stretching out in the air from the roots

Like a moon every ten meters
On the path that is walked
Following the foot steps like a spotlight
And highlighting what they talked about

The picture is set
And there she comes
The lights are blue and sighs for the moments
That sums up the mood
Faking the reflections of whats good
Undecided and incomplete
But she plays the role of the lead

Ending a day of a comical masterpiece
Without a loop or repeated day to tease
Headed back behind the bars
Pouring the body and gaze at the stars
The bird in a cage, though she has the key to gate. I hope many can relate
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