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Anastasia Jun 2019
in the  rain
i walk with you
an orange stained sky
cloudy and dusty
with nothing but grey ahead of us
rain
soaks my clothes
my hair
my heart
yet
i'm warm
and covered
with the misty,
heavy
rain.
and you laugh
and stick out your tongue
and i do
and the sky does
and i walk home with you
in the rain.
just walked in the rain, now i'm soaked but warm. hot-cocoa and Gilmore Girls for me.
Riveá Apr 2019
Rough patches are like the rain.
Once in awhile they pour down in sheets.
Other times they sprinkle themselves sporadically.
No matter how they arrive,
dark clouds always clear
and sunshine returns.
Noah Clark Jan 2019
How do you not fall in love
         with a person you’ve poured your
                  entire heart into.
         How does that person not fall in love
while doing the same to you.
From deep within the soul
Faith Dec 2018
The feeling of not knowing what you’re writing
Because all of your feelings simply pour out the words
Let my heart
Pour at you heart
To get the heart dissolved
One and one
Equal in love
One heart
the love means tiding in everything
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
I have lost count of how many times
                        that I have felt so alone

Being on the Earth and walking through
                             its diverse marketplace

And yet, I find me with a different face
                               in another life walk
Another day, another form of poetry! Today's form - a Sijo!
Just pouring my thoughts and heart out in a different way.
Funny how I can find myself in other people in all walks of life.
Thanks!
Lyn ***
Payton Hayes Jun 2018
Before I go, let me pour this
over your head
it is not the skin or the bones
or the rushing hot blood beneath,
it is not the eyes or the hair
or the makeup,
it is not the clothing and it is not
even the way her footsteps fall
on the pavement
that makes her beautiful,
it never has been
and it never shall be
it was always in her words
and the way she loved
ClawedBeauty101 Jun 2018
Within every heart, there is a chain hooked up to a wall of flesh, blood and stone.

Scars open and cut too deeply, we rather thirst and drink our own blood then eat the molded food that the guards of fire and destruction serve us.

We try so hard to escape this hell inside our minds. But it almost seems impossible and mindless.

Every day, we live in a living nightmare. We would rather die than live another second in this kingdom of depression and wrath.

There is only one law, and the law is the image of death is nothing but a dream.  

We can try our hardest to desire the blood spill and the gushing out of beaten bones and origins to spill out of our weak and limp bodies, but all we'll do is spawn back into this waste land

Tears stream down the faces of many innocent broken people; they feast on each other like beast of a large skeleton bump sight,

We're tortured until our back bone is visible, and our voices are empty and numb.

Our fingers lay in pieces of flesh on the cold mossy stone floor from making meals for these zombies like monsters.

The meals are the hearts and frightened minds of our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters; we weep for them and wish for no comfort.

**I am the only prisoner in this Endless Fire Hell that has a window in their dang room. I can see a brighter, safer, more loving place just millions of miles away.

I often reach my hand out the window, to at least feel tiny drops of refreshing rain on my black burning skin.

I cry aloud, calling for some kind of help, but I know that calling and crying won't get me anywhere.

The rain drops are the only loving thing I have, for they heal my scar and fix my wounds, the only hopeful thing that my blurry eyes and beaten hands have ever seen and felt.

Under neither this dungeon in the sky, is a vast and cool ocean that I long to swim in the feeling of freedom and satisfaction.

Within every moment as I swim in the burning and melting lava pool, oh how the lava is stained by the blood and eyes of prisoners that have slowly melted away.

Their skin slowly ripping off their skull as they scream in a high and painful voice… Oh how I long to feel the rain. Oh how I long for it.

On one faithful day, there was a great down pour, and the rain drops starts to sing in harmony with serenity and joy, which caused the stones of bitterness that surround my window to give way and crumble and fall into the sea.

I smiled bright for the first time in 16 years. I took the chance and jumped, but then quickly grabbed hold of a left over stone, my arm stretched in pain.

How silly of me to just jump and not knowing if I’ll die and spawn back here or if the guards will see me in the ocean and band the rain from this Nether.

My Arm soon gave up its last strength as my ****** hand finally let the stone go. I could feel the rain, filling and soaking my entire body,

I crashed into the ocean, my eyes closed, and my mouth allowing the water of purity to drown me, my arms and leg motionless as I began to sink.

I would rather die in something I love, than live in something I hate...
Written on February 11, 2016, 10:37 am
**During the time I wrote this, I used the "d*mn" word... instead of dang"

Alright, this is not a poem, but more of a story... so apologies if I disappointed any of you guys with that.

I wrote this poem after an accident with my family, where I fell into deep anger and rebellion. I wrote this poem to let out the hopelessness I felt, to let out the madness I felt locked up in.  I was very distant from God, from my family, from my church. Rereading this revealed to me how much HATRED I had...  I am blessed and surprised how God or even the people I know could ever forgive me...

Another way to look at this poem is without Him, We do live in a mind state of Hell. We will go to Hell, unless we escape that Hell, which s through Jesus Christ, which I would think represents the Down Pour. And when she Died in something she Loved, there are so many people who Died PROUDLY for their faith... and I know they would die for something they love, then live in a world of Hate... and I know in a heart beat I would do it... the Prison of Hell would Represent us being trapped in this world of Sin or being trapped in sin in general and how monstrous it is.... So I guess that's another way to look at it
Crystal Freda Mar 2018
Rain, rain is all it does
Pour, pour it goes outside.
Indoors has become so boring.
Under my warm blanket I hide
when water is just a pouring
which is all just a buzz.
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