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Maddie Cribbs Dec 2017
Am I a door, who's lock is broken,
who's hinges are loose?
I'm being swung open and closed,
Swung open and closed again and again.

My hinges are rusted,
I have scratches and kicked-in holes,
My **** is about to be broken off.
Next I know, I'll be ripped off of my beautiful loosely rusted hinges and thrown into the roach-filled dumpster.

But I was put there for a purpose.
To open myself up and let those in who were in need of help.
And those people have ******* me over multiple times.
But that was my purpose.

My loose, rusted hinges
held on
no matter how many times I was slammed or kicked
because that’s what I was made for.
To help others,
no matter how broken they made me
I held on ,
and I kept my purpose.
TLove D Dec 2017
There was a moment in our lives that we were a season. And like each season, we had our own time and purpose. In time, we found love. And in love, we found our purpose.

But seasons also change. And so did we.
60 sunshines, 59 nightfalls till I face the day
40 topics held in to regurgitate,
**** and span for the marker man to give a brother a break.

Wait, I ain't done
Got anxiety about two more chores in head
Not to ***** and moan but *******
Getting tired of this ****
What's the point to push if you don't know where to go
Blindful blissful ignorance?

They say, and you go.
What subject?
What ever is most respected.
What job?
What ever brings financial comfort.
What about this?
Nah, you ain't good at that.

And so you sulk ever so distracted
Hearing the drip drop taps, splat on to the sink.
The metallic ting of the radiator reverberates as dormant inner silence sings.
Forever more.
A didactic sore for the ears,
Apologies in advance,
Though regardless you must hear it.

Never run to please others
Rather, focus and listen to the deep.
Anomaly Dec 2017
She might feel worth...less than
The tree next to her
But she knows she has a worth
And probably a purpose too
But the one there provides shade
One with branches for birds
But she is neither
Is she just another tree
In the forest
She just wants it to end
Maybe her purpose is to be a paper
To her sometimes it sounds better than to be living
So they cut her down
And slowly all the other trees too
And now its not a forest but just a park with a few trees.
Please stop cutting trees or buying fake trees, the latter being worse for the enviroment.
anotherdream Dec 2017
When life is thrown at you and hurled too fast,
You can’t even see, or even look past,
The struggles that hit you so evenly.
They leave no room for purpose or meaning.

I tried to color inside life’s challenging lines,
But realized quickly there’s not even enough time,
To draw what was always invisible.
The colors I used are not even giveable.

When you ask my name, and what you should call me,
I ignore the preference because it’s not worth recalling.
I’m just another lonely boy in a lonely world,
Where emotions and hardships are suddenly hurled.

The impact they cause is too painful to describe.
But if you felt what I felt, you’d know how I’d die.
It jabs you in the heart and never stops stabbing.
Yet I’m still standing here, my heart still beating,

It gives all it can give, pumping every bit of blood.
It doesn’t give up and just give up trying,
For it knows it’s ultimately dying.
It pumps as long as the sun is still rising.
OnyxSea Dec 2017
I watch the vast expanse of space beneath me,
the beautiful earth, covered in green.

I stare upon the very skies,
filled with stars farther than what the eyes can define.

Secrets hidden,
truths amidst,
the vast forest,
apparent like mist.

I stare upon the endless ocean,
vaster than even the eyes can glimpse.
I stare upon the beauties of nature,
filled with creatures both young and free.

Yet all these things are but what I can see,
a fraction of nature's divine great beauty.
Beyond all words, and what I can think,
to describe its unmatched grandiosity.

Still, I try, even when I fail,
because nature is, something I behold,
to be powerful and free, beyond compare.
It makes me see how tiny I am.

A bare speck, or a semblance of dust,
completing thousands of minor tasks.
To keep myself going, as all creatures do,
in the vast history of what's about to ensue.

Nature's beauty, lying in thus,
is just like its cruelty, apparent in us.
Blending and molding, all actions in one,
into a future which all will become.

Corpses of maggots, dead bodies amidst,
a vast mountain of others, a skeletal heap.
All paving the path into the future of Earth,
who knows what Nature is about to unearth?

Beautiful and sad,
Cruel and kind.
What comes to be must eventually unwind.

Thus Nature stays true,
to its essenceless truth.
That all it is, is a perpetuating loop.
lins Dec 2017
I want to write for me.
Not for anyone else.
Just for me.

The words are true.
They come from the heart.
They are true.

My thoughts are personal.
Though I share them.
They are personal.

My poems are failing.
When I reread them.
They are failing.

I've been writing for others.
As much as I fight it.
It's been for others.

I am a writer.
This is part of my life.
Lins, the writer.

I will write for myself.
No matter what.
Just for myself.
Sandman Dec 2017
Faces stuck like sticky notes to my face.
Tear drops falling off of my dry iris.
Layers shedding like peeling deseased skin.
Memories washed and chopped.
Boiled and broiled.
I while the world goes deaf cry at the bay of my mind.
A sensation of awkward emptyness collects inside me.
The wind blows around inside of me like a wirl pool.
Spiraling upward and out my mouth.  
I am hallow shell on the bay of my mind watching the never ending sunrise
Just letting everyone know that this poem is about depression though I don't have depression. I wrote the poem based on how I feel when I am really sad.
cassie sky Dec 2017
I will not turn away from humanity.

I will not turn away from myself.

It's high time, for my time

To brightly, whitely shine

Especially so for those

In need of a recharge
Inspired by the Pink Floyd song of the same title
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