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she cared so deeply
yet felt like she
couldn't be more of an
and for no reason
overthinking caused her
to set herself apart
she couldn't see
that they cared
for her too
Leisha Dias Jul 24
Placed beside you
Or did I hypnotically walk to you
Was it a game of fate and destiny
Or was I simply charmed by your spell
Was I meant to be here
Or did I want to be here
All I can decipher right now is that,
I lie here and you beside me.
At such close proximity
Feeling you at every edge
Like two pieces of a puzzle.
A piece of puzzle with curves and edges
Rough curves and worn out edges
But did I really fit in?

I tried hard,
Just as I tried all these years
At all the wrong places
Chiseling my sharp edges into curves
Curves that would now fit perfectly
All the while, losing a part of me.
Just making me question,
Is this yet another wrong spot
Didn't seem wrong to the world
Then why do I still feel like a misfit
Like a square peg in a round hole
Or has this constant trying to fit in
Leave all my edges frayed
I no longer recognize anymore.

Still lying beside you,
Still dont seem to fit in,
Still questioning,
Is this yet another wrong spot?
Elm Feb 2019
Crystal clear; Cleaned crystal
Window Washer; Watching World

This skyscraper's stories are his to tell.
He climbs the corporate ladder daily.

CEO's overlord office view
At lunch shared with Washer's chews.

His peers are his feathery foes
Yet birds make better friends than those,
That look right though him...
rhionna Feb 21
I feel like I'm floating
an outsider looking within
even with friends
this feeling never came up before
why do I feel it now?
stuck outside
set aside from conversations
left boxed off from friends
reduced to nothing but
an outsider looking within
trying to describe this weird way I feel as of late
ardnaxela Feb 8
the Rose that grew from concrete...
the delicate face
of a fragile beauty...
guarded by some tough exterior -
dutifully unacknowledged.
indeed, achieved a great a feat
but still
buried underneath their feet.

everyday trodden;
not once a chance to thrive -
effects of a circadian stampede.
A Rose
that grew for a simple life,
but the beauty within had died.

Her leaves she let wilt,
took every blow she was dealt -
dull thorns now to speak for.
color drained with a droopy stem,
wishing away dark clouds
so then maybe
she would
See more.

could she have had it all?
her existence left her nothing.
party of one and the place is full of Rocks.
a stand-alone soldier in a grave situation;
the hurt wouldn't stop coming;
should we pray for such mercies?
she figures...

no singular mercy could unseal her fate
the blade of society is sharp and
against her soft petals it continuously scrape

...when you've felt one pain you've felt them all.
senseless emotions
trigger moisture in the stigma
finally a drop of color -
to the concrete it would fall
rich red
like the Flower
that once cracked those gray walls.
I was inspired to take poetry seriously by Tupac. The Rose That Grew from Concrete - the first poem of his I read. This poem was inspired by that one, and emotions I was feeling about myself, my relationship and others around me at the time. This was originally written in 2015. Thanks for reading.
Growly Wolfus Dec 2019
When you see someone you love slowly fade away,
a little part of you dies.
Watching their laughing eyes turn red
filled with tears and hatred towards themself.

You know you're an outsider to their pain
and feel you can't do anything to help.
Every time you try
they respond with "I'm fine"
and shut you out with a face hot with shame.

Hopeless and helpless
they lie to your face
whilst crying in your arms
before saying they're "ok"


They think they're worthless
and cut themselves to release some of the anxiety
Their blood staining your clothes
as you watch from the sidelines

It doesn't hit you until...

                                  's too late...


So lend them a hand,
embrace them in your arms,
comfort their tears,
tell them you understand,
and tell them they're not "fine",
that it's ok to be sad,
                           and you'll always be there
                                             to keep up their smile.
You may be an outsider to their pain,
                    so break down the wall and let yourself in.
We all get sad sometimes.  But seeing others depressed makes me feel even worse, especially when I know I can do something.
Tizzop Dec 2019
antwone the gang leader always
be like: imma make a call; two
minutes and they here

regardless what the issue about:  
antwone always about dat
(and they always come for sure)

me? i ain't made for that
me just tizzop
ain't belong to antwone's

even if i wanted to:
they wouldn't let me

dem dudes roll heavy
while i note down outsider dreams with white ink on
black pages
you feel me?

antwone's dudes addicted to
i'm deep inside; yet no part of that;
my handz not made for glockz

my hands are made for pens;
i'm from the ghetto; who cares?
my hands are made for pens
and if i'm broke i will
write with sparkling fingers

that is for certain therefore my death will be silver
my eyes be shiny like gold then
god is always by my side

you feel me god? good cause i feel you god (HEART)

last breath: tizzop's dead body will be floating on air
because a good man does the right thing (i want to be good)
dead brotherhoodlums be munched by icy blacktop
you feel me?
eternally doomed down there without air
i won't be there  

i am from the ghetto
who cares?  
my hands are made for pens


Mind dem families in the projects who sleep on the floor cause they don't wanna catch dem bullets.
Anmol Mago Nov 2019
and yes I am
snobbish and stupid
clown me if you wish
cause I run out of wit
and yes I am
flimsy and clumsy
I trip
I fall just too often
and yes I am
too fat
to fit in that square hole
of yours
too tall to
stoop that low
and yes I ain't
fair like those idols of yours
and yes I like
being aloof
not willing to hide my true self
not willing to surrender to
those norms of yours
and yes I hate those crowds
those clubs
those jarring
parties of yours
call me anti-social if you wish
and yes
those glaced up
friends ain't meant for me
and yes I do
write at times
broken words
pouring out
from a reticent heart
and yes I do
wish that sometimes
I could find
a piece of peace
a silent patch
of quietude
amongst this chaos of yours
and yes I am
a bit afraid of these
they remind me just too
often of the paradox of this society

but even in all this (mess)
one thing is a certain
and that is
I did have a heart once
I too was human
until you twisted me
and turned me into
an outlander
looking for a home
in this big wide alien world
J J Nov 2019
Luminescent skin, spiralling layers pressed
From inside the curling dagger pollen;
Violin strings draw forth the butterflies
Towards their fate, cerberus lips clasp
Wings of dafodil— spotty mossy green
Outcrosses the budded red drooping dead;
Akashic run, like that of a waterfall
Whence rippling pendulums row,caught infinitely.

Glowing stem— seperating to laughing claws
and mandalas paused along fully harmonious crease;
All falls back to fungal soil underground
For which all life is magnetically supported:
Prestine exoskeleton, flaming bones
that weavith skyward with ancestral ghost
softly chasing, having foundated their creator.

Blonde hair binding split petals via waves
  Of furious vibrations, snapped calm and quiet.

Mature flesh and bone, whom let the pencil
Move over pale canvas—
'I picture a clock that's arms spin fire
Outward. '
Poor woman, legless two years
Prior to her deathday— wonderous harbinger
Who once, overwhelmed by the menial day to day,
let pencil fall,skim and form
   and reform

Beautifying the world -- lonely, bold and brave
Her mind image caught, fished through the haze

And etched for the rest of time to forget.
Tribute to an amazing Czech artist
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