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For you I sing like skylarks die; a laryngitic lullaby,
A shrapnel screech like bullets breached; the kind a salted leech might cry,
In constipated overture, my drunk amour; my alibi
Demands that hands find some romance before my guile and glands run dry.
Poetic T Feb 5
Ignorance is blissful
      to those who see nothing.

But pick not the seed,
         but chop down the tree,

to feed there creation of
       Starving gratatude.
Anya Feb 1
Hello,
Sweet Pity
I hate you
But you comfort me.

Don't feel bad
But show me you care.
Don't fear for me
But show me you're scared.

Don't pity me,
But do.
I don't,
But I need you.

I need to feel alive
I need to be cared for
I need to be dangerous
So life isn't a bore.

I scare myself
So be scared with me.
I put on a smile
But I'm not so free.

So don't pity me,
Don't pity my pain
Don't feel bad for me
Don't feel scared for me

But please do.
I need you to.
I struggle between wanting people to feel badly for me, and care for me, and wanting to put on a strong front when I don't feel my best.
Matt Sol Jan 31
Demurring dreams
In solitude,
A feeling came.
It came too soon,
Concomitant
With feeling due.

Annex the black
To white to blue,
Diaphanous,
And dormant truths.
Convivial
To ones "forsooth".
WwWwWwWHWwWwWwW
                           Y
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"I'm sorry." That singular phrase. I hate it, it makes me feel weak.
No one ever means it. They should give up and just not speak.
It's a habit of mine to say sorry for something I'm not sorry for.
I'm not sorry, not one bit. I hate that it is part of me, it's an eyesore.

Please stop my pity parties. I can't contain them, please help me.
I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry I'm the one making an apology.
I can't stop saying sorry. It's an essential part of my internal code.
It seems that I'm sorry is the only phrase my brain wants to upload.

I'm incredibly sorry and I don't really know why?
Maybe I'm apologizing for something useless that I identify?
I have many questions for my sorry brain, why am I sorry? What for?
I see this as a negative quality that no one will ever adore.

I keep saying sorry, I don't know how to stop it, please help me
I can't stop, help me get rid of this depressing and pitiful apology
I hate myself for feeling this weak, I'm definitely not strong
I hate that my feeling of strength always feels wrong.

I can't stand this feeling of being unwanted wherever I go
My tears say I'm sorry and they fall like glistening snow
I'm sorry that each time I say it, I start crying uncontrollably
I'm sorry that you can't really help me, it will go on inconsolably.

I will always be sorry, there's no changing that fact
I always apologize to people only when I'm feeling attacked
You can't help me in any way possible, I'm forever broken
No one can hear me scream because I will always be outspoken.
I'm an extremely apologetic person, so this poem portrays what I think each time I say that I'm sorry.
Ejike Pius Jan 13
Just biting my tongue
So words will not slip out
Like rock thus
Water gush out
Like a drop of ocean
Upon a mankind

Just shutting my eyes
Wide open
So not to see that child
Cry as if in an oven
Haven seen heaven
We were given
Turned to **** driven

Just closing my ears
With candle's wax
So they won't ask with axe
If I heard the ululation
In the nation
Where lullabies in the days of yore
Is now lamentation for all.

Just crossing my hands
But I can't
'Cos even if I do my pen rants
Like a child who learnt a new
Rhyme, chant.
For that child who in the
Street cry

Even if we can't help,
Lets try
For the river down their cheek
Dry
Even if it is one, try
+234 8122245919
gabrielle Jan 7
"  silence means, please be happy
   tears means, i truly loved you    "

don't worry
don't pity on me
i'm fine
watch i'm ok by ikon

(yes,, this is a low key promotion)
gabrielle Jan 6
shoot me with the words of yours

oh, you can't ?

was it a fair ceasefire because it is hurtful

or it was out of pity ?
don't worry, i'm okay.
A boy believed that he had little strengths to think of. But after jumping outside to enjoy his life, he thought of something. “What if I could backflip?” So he jumped and weaved his spin upwards. He saw the ground bend to the will of his eyes. He landed and then thought, “ I did it!” After this, he began to go and do this again and again. With this knowledge, he began to feel confident in his skills. After this confidence hit, he began to want to show his talents. “They will be impressed!” So he went to the center of his village and asked for everyone’s  attention. “I will do a backflip, please watch me. “ He then attempted once again, destined to do it, he did. Everyone looked and realized, “You did no backflip!” Indeed he didn’t. For he had no way of telling if he could but he could have asked somebody. But he was to anxious to show off. He became famous for the one who didn’t. But at what cost? He couldn’t backflip but now all he did was fail the village and get food for it. But the villagers were at fault too. They were the ones lending an eye. It’s time to receive back your payment from the ones who steal. And watch somebody who can actually backflip. Of course I who write this, fail. So I will end this to prove my point.
A Prose story about how I'm self Conscious about my Writing abilities
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