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alexis Mar 2019
The darkening light of the eyes of the innocent

The pain in the hearts of the others

The losing faith in a child's life makes one wonder

You have to ask how long can you live

With yourself turned away from reality

When you look into the eyes of your brother

How well do you know the others

I like cheese
this was a poem I wrote after I had read the book the outsiders which was written in 1963 and published in 1970
Masha Yurkevich Jan 2019
Those greasers
made bad things
look cool.
Those socs
were so mean and cruel.
The rumbles, the fuzz, and the anger
teaches us
to stick together.
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
Harry Kelly Jun 2018
Certain people in life leave strong impressions on us,
By their sayings we agree with or positions we abhor.
When these people are no longer around,
their marks make themselves known  in various ways.

You are in my thoughts often.
You were quite the square peg.
I think back to the odd ways you did things.
A True Rebel.
But not a rebel just for the sake of it
Nor in order to receive the attention society pays to such people
A rebel because you make up your own mind on things.

"Never be afraid to change your mind," you used to say.
That stuck with me.
So although you are not here with me,
You are never truly gone.

For a while you said I was the one for you.
                       But You Took Your Own Advice
                       And Changed Your Mind
And in the now, I am ok with that.
sadgirl Oct 2017
i filled myself up
used holes in my skin, scratches from rumbles
to create dams that only held emotion

i ate away at the spare parts
let my hair fall to the ground
and rise like a phoenix, a different man/boy/beast than before

i was gone with the wind, right before you came
and tried to free me
from myself

i am so real, you should be scared
i am so alive, you should be scared
i am so close to being dead, you should look me in the eye

soc girls, look at them
and envy every madras sweater
or tuff corvette

i want the money, the heater
unloaded, the switch pressed
against my enemy

and this time, with a chance
of winning
i am possessed

and his spirit
is nothing for me
to interfere with

you think of me,
all i think about
is paul newman and a ride home

when i die, i want to be buried with
books, a pen and a piece of paper
because i want to write

every robert frost line,
and have it carved
into my own flesh

i am beautiful, no matter
how long the hair
or how short

they say i am a
hood, a greaser
but all i hear
is *stay gold
Written in the perspective of Ponyboy Curtis, from S.E Hinton's The Outsiders
Graff1980 Oct 2015
It is a lonely life to live
And I would seldom recommend
To the weak of heart
But for the hopeful
I commend this struggle
Stirring younger men
To live learn and grow

Perhaps leaving family behind
In the pursuit of the mind
Paying dues with isolation and time
Finding your muse rightly used

But facing a nation racing away from
The acquisition of knowledge and wisdom
A society determined to remain blind
In Plato’s Cave slaves still obey shadows
Sniping at those such as yourself
Who struggle to expand and include
All things within and without

Till the wanderer comes home
Alone better not bitter from the journey
Open and ready to share
Hoping the world is ready to care
About such wonderful things
green therapy Sep 2015
i didnt know
you were going to go
but now that youre gone i never got to say goodbye
i still think of you
i still want to cry
now its as clear as day
i see what you were trying to say
"stay golden pony boy, stay golden"
Is it bad to be a human being,
always feeling emotions and trying not to promote them,
but what can you do when all you feel is pain and sorrow for tomorrow and your voice sounds so hollow.
No echo, no stream.
Life is but a dream.
I walk this earth as a bag of bones and I feel so out of place in a world of drones.
Or am I the drone and every one else right.
I'll sit in my darkness and search for a sign.
I am not alright but I will be with time.
Past weitting.#
wraiths Aug 2015
i see you in most of the characters i read about, but there's one that's really caught my eye after going back and reading about him again. he's the broken hood with eyes that've hardened at the sights of the world; forgotten how to cry at an early age and unaware of the good that's left in people, aside from one. i know you joke about dying on your own terms, but i just hope to god you don't end up like your counterpart.
hannah Oct 2014
there are people like you there.
the ones who yell "what the hell"
when there band plays on the
radio because they don't want to
share it with the world.

the ones who don't talk during
class because they simply just
want to be out free not making
up some stupid drama.

the ones who wear what they
want not giving a **** about
how people will look at them in
the hall.

the ones who are the outsiders.
the ones who are
just like you.
h.d.
too bad I was one of them, but I was from a distance.
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