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Tony Tweedy Oct 2023
Oh the things that my eyes have seen,
the many places walked I have been.

Upon peak and trough did I roam,
rarely knowing a place called home.

So many turnings along my way,
passing on through to seldom stay.

Staying as long as life allowed,
more times alone than in a crowd.

Beautiful faces that came and went,
both good and evil sometimes sent.

With words sometime of the softest kind,
echoing shrill calls yet within my mind.

Words once soft now turned to stone,
where faces vanish until left alone.

Upon road so full of twist and turn,
until a heart can no longer yearn.

Corners met that were never turned,
unseen paths that were never learned.

Future's short path left to travel on,
in time memory fades and it too is gone.

Things I was and all that I saw,
gone forever through the closing door.

How long then be there just a trace,
that my soul and I ever saw this place.

To dust and particles we all will decay,
those once met too will just fade away.

Until even memories of all are no more,
of a life full lived that no one even saw.
The stream of life and human existence.... a species long journey along an unknown road. Was there a beginning? Is there an end?
Kelsey Oct 2023
Im deep in the throws of finding myself
Caught in the undertow
Tumbling under the surface
After a wave pushes me down
I cant see what direction is up
And what is down
Theres pressure from all sides
Pushing and pulling
Like children in masks
Waiting for you to choose them
Who am I without a clear path?
Who was I born to be?
Does it even matter?
Thoughts jumble and
Twist into knots
Its impossible to untangle
The truth
But they say the truth will set you free
Am I forever to be
A prisoner of my own indecision?
Of my own lack of insight
Into who i am?
Because it is scary,
Getting lost in the current,
And when I can finally come up for air
I hope it tastes sweeter
Than I remember
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2023
Cobwebs in my eyes;
how to see the world- old and dusty
My love is bit rusty, to even attempt
to steal a heart- a metal mouth speaking,
I spoke of how it felt to be made of gold,
well at least in the eyes of calling something mine

But yes I dug those many trenches,
and stuck a pole that stood as a reminder to it all
And I eventually gained the skill to write out what's
on my mind in secret- a constant mental note

In a distance so far away from myself,
striking a deal with the covers over my heart
A wet blanket; crying under the fabric
of it, to hide away those many tears from the world
I must have been a rose; well at least once before,
but sometimes the roses are still trying to find themselves,
a meaning, an identity, a cause, and a reason to grow

Tell me if you've ever felt like a beautiful flower,
though none of their eyes seem to see such beauty
In an unclear sight; overlooked by those you love,
                  -a story of all the world' blurry flowers
R N Tolliday Mar 2022
In making up for lost time,
Towards my dream, years-long,
Of many New Year's–gone resolutions,
I've made only a tiny step, in comparison to others,
But a step forward, nonetheless.

'Cause I had to breathe, and I've been unfolding into many, newer, earthier paths.
I've had my struggles, of consistent lengths, and had to clear those dark clouds.
Today I stand on firmer ground.
Grounds that I want firm for everyone.

The mountain of my book is very tall and long,
But no matter it, nor the length of my stride: I'm moving forward again.
Towards those things I love the most, and of which, their end isn’t certain.
R N Tolliday May 2021
Outside the mechanisms of wallowing, and other lesser motions,
There is the beautiful world, stretching out beyond me.
With your words, my love is known.
But upon waking, such sentiments are lost until such words are revisited.

The power of ‘Writing’, is in the connection I make outside of the ordinary wallowing.
In-route to become the norm of the mind, norm of my behaviour.
Towards a life of love,
Beyond the walls of ordinary, once rejected.
xjf Aug 2023
It may be that
the purpose,
Is not written into
the program.
Pratham Sanghvi Aug 2023
Your gaze might not take my breath away
But when I’m breathless, you breathe back life in me
Your touch might not freeze the ground below my feet
But when my legs feel too heavy, you set my sole free
You might not be my bright sunny day
But you are the stars of my night sky
You might not light up my life
But you give me hope in the darkest of times
You might not be the love I was looking for
But you are the peace that I found
You might not be the piece that completes my puzzle
But you are the peace that holds it all together
You might not be the love that will give my life purpose
But you are the peace that sustains me
Jawad Aug 2023
As days sneak away
      Like small thieves
   Taking pieces of my soul
I wonder…
                Where poems
       The guardians of time?
Defenders of hopes?
       Or…
   Were they disordered seams
           Holding together a life
        Of secret sorrow
            Disintegrating
Where they artistic lies
Shallow
    Hollow
          Perfected to taste mellow
               To hide the bitterness
                          The missing shadow
             Of my shrinking soul?
    What where they?
                   Impostor dreams?
Why do we really write poetry? To feel better, or to not feel worse? To run away, or to achieve something?
Josephine Wild Jun 2023
I feel that my presence
is a light
that’s needed.
I care a lot
of how others
are treated.

Joy is my purpose.
It’s an inside job.
I want to help others
on this journey we’re on.

I’m creative and it matters.

I’m athletic and it matters.

I’m resilient and I matter.

My presence on earth won’t last forever.

I’ll just become dirt again.
Before I do,
I’ll know that I mattered.
Coming out of a dark mental state after being sick.
Psych-o-rangE Jun 2023
Accepting the gift was always easy

Committing to it was always hard

No compass, no road, no map could lead

No language, no gesture, no one to teach

No god, no idea, no love, no hate, no reaction, no purpose, no reason, no thought, no spasm,
no fiber,
.
no spark.

There, I broke it.
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