Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Neo Montane Jan 27
Stars are only clearest in the dark night
But that one star, she dared to be bright
She dared to be bright, when they said it wasn't right
They said it wasn't right to be bright except in the night

She twinkled just like any little star
Though she was different with every little scar
Her scares made her a different kind of star
But that wasn't enough, she just had to raise the bar

So when day came, when the star hid
She shone forth without being timid
Locked up behind bars like a criminal; cut off from society.
It seems as though this little birdy has forgotten how to fly; for this cruel world has clipped its wings and stripped away all joy — claimed as a pet, chained to a tree, trapped in a cage for everyone to see. Leading life in solitude has become the norm, but this little birdy can't help but long for something more.
EJ Lee Jan 8
I feel as though I am walking on eggshells
I am surrounded by people who
Pride themselves in tolerance and diversity
Voicing their opinions loud and clear
Walking on eggshells
My opinions and views differs from them
As it does not align with theirs
Holding my tongue to
Avoid confrontations
I want to speak my mind
So I can stand up for myself
But I stay silenced
Walking on eggshells
Narrowly avoiding certain subjects
For fear of being treated horribly
I want to make friends
That accepts me
Respects my opinions
Walking on eggshells
I feel oppressed and afraid
In my community
Trying to survive
A community of that is not
As tolerant as they preach
I am walking on eggshells
Trying to avoid being called names that
Are not true
I don’t feel safe
While everyone else has
Their safe space
For two years I’ll be
Walking on eggshells
EJ Lee Jan 8
We exist
Our voices may be small
But we exist
Our art might not be political
But we exist
We might not be controversial
But we exist
Our opinions might be ignored
But we exist
Isaac Ward Dec 2018
The kitchen lights are off,
As you come down for a drink,
It's just half past midnight,
And you're standing by the sink.

Outside, through the windows,
You see her watching, lax,
You blink, she disappears,
Then you feel her at your back.

You stand still, paralyzed,
So quick, she grabs you tight,
This shadow is so empty,
Yet she holds so strong tonight.

She runs a finger up your spine,
And chills you to the bone,
As dark as the space between the stars,
She wants to drag you home.
Crow Nov 2018
A creature not of here or there
With parts that do not fit
Neither fish nor fowl, horse or bear
A bashed together kit

Too many heads, some with horns
Body furred and scaled
Eagles wings and spines like thorns
And as a peacock tailed

Some aspects might bring a smile
While others will repel
One small detail may beguile
Yet another breaks the spell

Each pack or flock it tries to join
Though they seemed akin
And in some facet quite adroit
Another portion can’t fit in

Every time it tries as best it may
To hide an offending section
Knowing that if seen in light of day
The result will be rejection

So the beast remains an alien
Cloaks what's best concealed
Strives to imitate the chameleon
That no misshape be revealed

All creatures hunger for a home
Chimera hungers too
But it wanders doomed to roam
A haven to pursue
All of us are Chimera to a degree. But some more than others.
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2018
i do not speak your name
i cannot even whisper it
instead, i hide it in my dreams
under my sheets
beneath a sky that sees all
but does not burn my skin
do you ever wonder
what the moon is thinking?
does she gaze down solemnly and see
a fading opus
or a symphony simply tightening its strings
for the final act?
do you think it makes her sad
to see the greens replaced
with soot and plaster
the seas rising to meet her
with an apocalyptic kiss?
the falling tide
the slow recession
reminds me that
she keeps our secrets
but i think it breaks her heart
Jordan LC Murphy Aug 2018
I fear never living, quite rightly.
If heavens on earth then I'm not invited.
Just a passenger a stranger or a passer by..
As the parties rage high and into the night.
A spectator a spectrum or a ghost comes to mind.
Haunted in spirit by lack of any light.

I tried to get in once... For the **** of it.
That didn't go down well.
Cursed I'm sure of it black magic or a spell?
The black blood in my veins?
My luck? It's just too hard to tell.

So party on while I just watch you inconsiderate b@st@rds,
There's a party in my head and you're not f%cking invited!
Wrote this with a broken hand
gina quatrino Jul 2018
she was floating in space
looking at the Earth
through the fogged lens of a dream.
but she was not asleep
her heart was so empty it felt full.
she was tired of the opposites.
tired of of the broken roads.
she drifted in space
asking every star
if they could guide her home.
and the stars responded,
“don’t you remember?
you were born of stardust.
this is your home.”
Next page