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Strying Mar 8
it's not horrid
it's not terrible
it's everything
it's you and her
it's the tears that pour
it's the people laughing
it's everyone clapping
for the joyous occasion
the white dress
the suit
and the girl in tears watching her life dissapear.
POV: watching the love of your life get married to another girl and love someone else. you're never enough, you're never the one.
Changing was necessary
to be together
For him, I was ready to wait forever
She said we were fated
and she would stay
that having differences was okay
My mistake
Never say never
you were enough but I wanted better
Hell came to Earth
apocalypse day
I'm scared, I'm humble
for a second chance, I pray
His3Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people.
RJ Jan 24
is the death so dearly wished,
final words upon your lips?
leave the world, fatal breaths,
cross thy heart and lay to rest?

the shining glimmer in your eyes,
blotted out: a cloudy sky.
the warmest hearth, stomped out cold,
the ****** of a soul of gold.
I wrote this poem during physics class.
Jury executioner and judge
Using your friend as a lawyer
to deliver your grudge

In every action
you find a flaw
Forever defeated
my aim is a draw
His5Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people.
monique ezeh Dec 2020
There is a tree behind my neighbor’s house that I can see from my yard.
The leaves are amber from autumn into early winter.
When it’s windy, they fly off in a flurry, the tree’s narrow trunk bowing under Mother Nature’s weight.

Weaker trees around it fall. The tree in question does not.

I watch in awe, every year, as the leaves yellow and brown and eventually fall from the tree’s boughs.
It’s a pity, sure, but I am content that for a few months, I get to watch them grow and evolve.

Today, the leaves’ golden hue peeks at me through a kitchen window.

The branches are leaning over, war-torn by days of storms, reaching toward the earth.
The distance between the leaves and the ground is ever-shrinking, a point approaching zero but never quite reaching it.

In a few months, the tree will be barren. Its fallen leaves will decompose.

They will never meet the new generations of leaves that come each spring.
They will never bear witness to the metamorphosis of their former home, to the growth and change it will undergo in the years to come.
They will never see their stronghold eventually splinter and collapse under the weight of Mother Nature’s force and fury,
becoming one with the earth toward which it was so desperately reaching.

I wonder what it's like to be the one left behind by change.

I’ve always believed it a privilege to be allowed close enough to witness another’s development,
To be along for the journey as they shift from one version of themself to the next.
But this, I realize, is a privilege that I cannot even afford myself.

There are pieces of me that will never see the changes next fall will bring my neighbor’s tree.
There are pieces of my neighbor’s tree that will never see the changes next fall will bring me.
Parts of me will die before other parts are born; it is a fact that simultaneously troubles and comforts me.

Perhaps you, Reader, will never meet the newest versions of me.
But then again, neither will I.
Ellie Grace Sep 2020
He saw in me what he once held behind his own eyes.
A vision of splendour to thy beholder,
a prodigy of sorts to be moulded and shaped.
I was a blank canvas and he the creator.

Don’t you see?
This thing you call life,
the gift most are granted at birth,
was never mine to own.

Cursed to never know what it is like to hold power over your own destiny. To be granted the privilege of choice.

Instead I am forever bound to a man who declares himself a god.
A possession
until the day I perish,
that is the price I paid.
An excerpt from a book I am working on.
Akhil Bhadwal Apr 2020
Life is not about what you expect,
It's about what you make out of that you get
Life is not about what you have,
It's all about what you can save

Life is not about regret,
It's about what you can set
Life is not about what you have to bear,
It's all about what you hold dear

Life is not about who you were,
It's about what you've become now and here
Life is not about where you started,
It's all about where you stood when it all ended
A commentary about life. Follows a a b b rhyme scheme.
monique ezeh Feb 2020
if you zoom out a little, the stars disappear.
a scattered array of backlit windows take their place, illuminating a world of their own.
if you zoom out a little farther, even those disappear.
how far must we zoom until there’s nothing?
if everything is quantified by our perspective,
what exists beyond our sight?
nothing?

everything?
Kyra Embers Nov 2019
She called him, close to midnight,
his hello thawed her damp heart.
She stood silently, gripping it tight,
her knuckles, close to white.
She stood waiting some more,
unwilling to put the phone down, cut the call.
She heard a rattling breath followed by an "are you there?"
Tears fell fast as she said "forever and beyond"
She willed to give him,
a second chance.
i ve tried a narration within a poem... not very confident about it, a feeble effort, if it made you smile, please lemme know :)
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