Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Faith Nov 2018
Does my age affect how people think of what I do?
Do my looks alter what people think of my personality?
If I tell them my beliefs, would they hate me?
Can simply my gender change what something could have been?
Does my outward distract from my soul?
ClawedBeauty101 Oct 2018
Well, guess what?
I'm really completely broken apart inside
thrown and shattered into tiny pieces that lie
This is just am outside cover...
Impressed?
amber Oct 2018
you crush him
beneath your feet
you turn him
into nothing more
than broken glass
I see your toes
gushing blood
Denise Uy Oct 2018
I didn't have an umbrella.

The night sky was darkened by gray clouds,
and the rain fell from there, way down to the ground.
The path I walked was not dry,
and I could not find a roof to hide.

So I drowned the complaints of my drenched hair,
I told my skin not to care that it was sticky,
and I reached to the sky with my arms bare.
I didn't have to pretend it wasn't raining there.

Because I bounced from a puddle to another,
and I felt like I'd be stepping on water forever
but I didn't have to bother for cover.
I was not any less naked to the rain than the street kid on the road.

I quite enjoyed the ******,
the rain and its touching me,
and it didn't choose where to touch.
It just flowed from hair to shoes,
and I was peaceful very much.
It was raining.
Maxim Keyfman Oct 2018
outside the window comes autumn outside the window goes
it goes slowly outside the window
outside the window is a favorite sweet time

outside the window snow rushing outside the window
fly they fly they are my joyful children
my yellow lovely leaves are running through the window

about how many years about how many days and hours
I breathe here among the houses in the middle of the moon
among the lanterns and among the stars alone


time passes it passes it rushes
flies and flies like a bird in the sky like cold
and how warm it all runs and runs

smiles and sorrows tears and dreams of joy and
only grief and love and gaze at the sea
all over and over with me all over and over

ะพ the immortal melody
oh how much more will you be here oh how much
still i will be here such a sad joyful wanderer

07.10.18
b Sep 2018
this pit is as
empty as they
say. i may find fruit
or some water if luck
spins my way.

do you care to
join me? we could really
make a home here.
help me scratch the
black off the walls
and ill be in your debt.

i have been mistaken,
so i will mislead.
the def will lead
you blind and we will
all be lost.

a heart like
my mothers purse,
time tested and
full of everything.
a mess really,
but always ready to
prove me wrong
when i think
i dont need it.

if you care to look
you might find something
for me. i only ask
because i hear it
call my name through
the leather.
Gemma Davies Sep 2018
I wish it would rain in flowers just once,
I'm not a fool, silly or dunce.
But just imagine the joyful outcry,
If beautiful flowers fell from the sky.
Blooms and petals floating in the air,
Falling all around, landing everywhere.
Like bright scented confetti falling down,
Covering every city and town.
Not all the time or every day,
Nor when the sky is dull or grey.
But when it's blue and bright outside,
Think of the smiles that would provide.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPu1lOTV8Is
Gemma Davies Sep 2018
Close your eyes and listen,
Smell the aroma in the air.
Roam where there is no WiFi,
Wander without a care.

Take the scenic route,
Get outside and explore.
Stroll through the woods,
And walk along the shore.

Dream with your eyes open,
Make the day all yours.
Do more than just exist,
Enjoy the great outdoors.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jg1pXGu0DE
Gemma Davies Sep 2018
It's fun to play inside the house,
Puzzles, building blocks and more.
But playing outside is the best,
So just open up the door!

Get some mud on your trousers,
Some grass stains on your shirt.
Play around in the rain or sun,
Don't be scared of all the dirt.

Stomp around in giant puddles,
Whether it's December or July.
The best classroom has no walls,
And is roofed only by the sky.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5kw4A4J0Zg
Next page