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slr Jun 2018
Beauty, why do you evade her?
Why will you not let her grasp you?
She searches for you daily.
Meals become foreign during her quest.

Why will you not let her grasp you?
She searches the mirror but only sees a mistake.
Meals become foreign during her quest.
The map on her body is not a treasure map to her.

She searches the mirror but only sees a mistake.
Numbers are more than a math problem to her.
The map on her body is not a treasure map to her.
Beauty, why must you hide from her?

Numbers are more than a math problem to her.
Her best friend is the floor of her shower.
Beauty, why must you hide from her?
Why will you not show her you were always there?

Her best friend is the floor of her shower.
The water washes all the broken parts away.
Why will you not show her you were always there?
She doesn’t need water to fix what’s never been broken.
I wrote this for a class assignment and fell in love with it. I struggle a lot with body image and felt it embodied a person's struggles with body image quite well. I felt the ending was sad but still happy which I try to do a lot in my writing and felt it was delivered well in this piece.

This poem style is called Pantoum. This means that the 2nd and 4th lines from the 1st stanza are the 1st and 3rd lines in the 2nd stanza and so on.
Hollow Steve May 2018
If a wish was true,
And nothing else was  permanent.

I'd have some sort of relevance,
nothing really.
Just a point of others distances,
Its not like we're truly alone
Maybe not

How else do you help the others...
*** helllp themmmm everyonnnnnenenenenefuckkkkkk
Paylei Rose May 2018
Have you ever been so happy that you can’t stop smiling?
Well that’s how i feel when i'm with you
I know i'm bad at words and saying how i feel
But with you it's different
I say all these things that i don't even know i'm saying
I start rambling on about the little things
You are the cause of my happiness
You are the reason i'm sitting here writing love poems
Not knowing how to express emotion but knowing it's there
I know this all is just a ramble
There is no rhyme scheme or pattern
Truly you wouldn't consider it a poem
But with you my life turns into a rambled poem
So many thoughts that need to be said but none are spoken
Instead i try to express it with the thoughts and actions
Even though i still fail, you still love me
You have turned me into this love crazed mess
And i love it.
Umi Feb 2018
What might it be that doesn't let me compete to three verses ?
Perhaps it is that I tend to write longer poems, perhaps the lengh
shouldn't matter so much as the message is carried through.
From mind to heart, then to ones soul I try to reach out with no goal.
Yet am beaten, brought back down, by three verses which show up
with such malice, ominous, threatful aura, they have approached me.
I pretend not to mind, I pretend not to have seen it, yet the simple,
silly, broken stream in my thoughts has already engaged it.
So that it once again, cannot repress, envy on such a level.
My writing style might have been through changes, might have
come to a disliking to those who prefer a clear, structured, yet well
recorded, beautiful and magnificent rhyme pattern.
That should surely catch one's eye, perhaps fill them with glee and
bliss, happy thoughts that they would miss once they are gone.
But no, I cannot turn, this path was chosen, locked, destined to be
walked upon on an journey which has become endless, by time
which had stopped passing anymore.
So now it became unrecognised, forgotten, left in an abyss without
any light to expose it to the world outside my head.
Such is the fate, which I will gladly bear with, for this, has been
a  route, from which I learn and educate.
So go ahead, you can take my flame thrice, even if I might not be
able to burn this image into your eyes, this ember, about to go out
from the cold, windy, airless area, will only burn brighter.
As it rises from the ashes and yet again, goes ablaze

~ Umi
Stara Jan 2018
Used to your pattern
Yet I still drown in the pain
Re-finding my strength
The strength to love you, and to walk away.
Mark Wanless Dec 2017
"The Rhythm"


The rhythm patterned daily grows and is
The conscious now replete
With shades and hues of legion feathered touch
As universe existent ill or good
The end is not a valid thought to think
Beginning spirals back in timeless forms
Of cause vibrating co-dependent atoms
Bump and bump no space between
Called here or there
Wise and deep and calm the ocean lives
Among us is us to the bone degree
Of what we guess we are
Words are spoken and mistaken
To be valid firmities
So walk we do up in the air of self
And dream we tread a ground eternal
Day by day with closed eyes fearful
Of the image in the mirror
Yet there is a way that stills
The shaped confusion foaming
Vast and brilliant in the heavens
Of the mind we share and share alike
That cannot truly be in darkness for
Inherent is a constellation
Casting light in ten directions
Every corner that is but a name
Illumined
Fox Friend Dec 2017
There seems to be a purpose and pattern
for everything lovely that God has created.
The pain is never in vain
it always happens
for a reason.

So where is my purpose?
Where is that pattern?

I cannot see far beyond all these tears
but what I am seeing does not add up
so either I am broken
or I am not one of God's
lovely creations.
riwa Nov 2017
we’ll go days without speaking,
a blanket of awkward silences wrapped so tightly around us that we won’t have any room to move.

then you’ll text me.
i’ll reply.
tell you how greatly i’ve missed you, and that everything is okay now.

we’ll talk.

i’ll forbid myself from falling for you again, but when had i ever really listened to my own warnings?

once i’ll start getting pulled in again,

you’ll start to pull away.
then i start thinking too much.

(28.11.17)
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