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Steve Page Feb 2017
Live out
Live loud
Live strong
And those like you
Will laugh in relief
That they are not alone
That they like you
Can be who they were born to be
And can do what they came in this world to do
Thank you for standing up: Lord Kevin Shinkwin.
Rochelle R Feb 2017
LIFE

Is a bunch of wild guesses
Strung together with long bouts of monotony
A spiral labyrinth winding endlessly
Round and round and up and down
Dizzy and lost
Desperate for direction
Hopeful for destination
Seeking validation

All while
Living
Loveless Feb 2017
Sometimes, I wonder
What's the purpose of life
Why we are born here
Why we live
When we have to die

I wonder why we exist
When our being doesn't matters
The world keeps on going
It never stops
And it never will

Maybe,
I think,
Just maybe
There's no purpose of life...
Michael Ryan Jan 2017
Corruption
is an overflowing
abundance of inadequate language.

As few will fathom
the misleading of those in lead,
and those who think they see
may be mislead;
even more than those who don't.

Our ends
are never the beginning
madmen are not our conquerors
but instead the folly of commoners.

It was our lack of a auspicious aptitude
that begets us to lament
even the foggiest of concepts
beyond our notion to conceive even simplicity.

It was only eager creatures
that  yearned for the world to be theirs
so instead of uniting the kingdom;
we were segregated into classes
and left without language to communicate.
Bad things happen, because we've allowed them too.
Sydney Jan 2017
I've never prayed, but I write about religion like I know what it means. I've never gone to church, but I have more faith than I know what to do with. I don't know if I believe in God, but I believe in this. I believe in everything we're doing here. I believe in mankind, our ability to do good. I don't believe that we were created for a reason. I believe that we were created to find one. And this right here, this is my reason.
This past summer I went on a mission trip with my friend's church down to Sneedville, TN to repair houses. I was definitely nervous going into the trip, because I had never been very religious and I'd be spending a week and a half fixing houses with people who grew up in the church. But even though I spent 10 days in 90 degree weather, sleeping in an old middle school with a bunch of strangers, working 8 hours a day to repair a stranger's house, I would consider my trip with ASP as one of the most amazing and important experiences of my life. This trip exposed me to a spiritual side of me that I didn't even know existed. And I wouldn't trade my time with ASP for the world.
Sam Jan 2017
"I'm sick"
I whispered into the blue cotton fabric of his shirt
I pushed my face flush against his chest hoping the heat from my cheeks will make me melt into his skin so I can sit in his heart
"I'm sick and I don't know if I want to get better" I sob
He's stalk still not even putting his large warm hand on the lower base of my spine
I don't know what to do I don't know what to do I don't know what to do
I want him to make me better
He wants me to get better
Or at least that's what I tell myself
I tell myself that he doesn't love how fragile I am
That he doesn't see me as broken
That he doesn't see me as his purpose
I tell myself that he loves me for my flaws and perfections and not just the broken pieces
But as I soak his shirt in my wails I pretend not feel him recoiling like I've got some disease he's afraid of catching
Let me pretend
Let me pretend you actually love me
September 25, 2016 at 3:39am
Tyrel Kriger Jan 2017
A moment is all it takes for you to
Walk away from it
Looking away, you wander
towards the busy street
Knowingly getting closer
Dismally walking with smile

Blissfully leaving behind that unkown
That burden of duty
That somhow kept it all from turning to ****
Holding it up and all togeather
As the bricks fell on your head
Knowing others walk by
Only from the sound of them spitting
behind your back

You could just walk away
And wander into rest
Half way there for oh so long
The deserts waiting to swallow you in sand
And besides, it could all fall apart anyways.

You want to leave
So you can dry out, and recover
Scorch your skin as you lounge
Lips pealing, eyes rolled back in bliss
On a decreped pool chair
Sunglasses so no one can see

Although eyes are only one of the dead give aways
Of a consciously dead human
Silently inviting others to join in
"I love that person, they're so care free"
Unburdened

only one who walks on shifting sands
And lets them ***** the fire of ones soul knows
what they see when they look inside.

Dust and bone
Insects and parasites wraped up like
cold, injured loved ones
Coddled and well fed on your dwindling substance,
Your time and attention
Your non renewable resources

They become you
Now a part, a collective
Then the desert throws you onto
An open scorched tarmac
No vehicles, no lines, just black, hot and sticky
Full of people pretending they're not thirsty
The myth of water
rattling their dry twine vocal chords
with laughter and belitlment
All crooked looks and beady eyes

They drag their boney blistered feet
Smiles painted on thier suffering faces
By some rogue hand connected only
To a voice they all hear
"keep walking"
"you can't die if your already dead"

Hotter and hotter as the miles drag
Slower and slower nobody collapses
Their skin now gloves for a hand to wear
Alive only inside
some want to turn back
Some want to stop and think
Some want to die
But the hand keeps them moving

You come, bones and skin
Rotten and stinking, finnaly
Alone,
To some shift
The hand leaves you
The sun is blocked by swirling clouds

You walk up to a mirage on the plain
not comprehending
The fog clouds all but this,
odd bouncing of light
You see a slumped figure tattered in rags
Grey and drooping
And you feel him
Staring back hollow
You stand vapidly gapeing
as a rain drop hits you
Looking at where the road stops to meet a..

The fog seeps back conciously
A very clear line on the ground
Where the tarmac stops
and this smooth plain stands
A surface the color of the receding fog
"Lift your gaze'
It says one more time
Strings cut and hand withdrawn you abide
You place your hand on the cool smooth surface
It starts to rain, washing your meak body

Your mind sharp and keen
for the first time since..
You look up
And you see a person
Holding up some structure
He Cannot look up or his strength will fail him
But he must hold this up
Should his attention turn elsewhere
Whatever it is will surely fall
He cant explain this need
This light, this warmth,
somhow sustained by the strain of his muscles and the exercise of his will
Against odds and favor
He is blind because he is focused
He is dumb because he believes
He is weak because he uses his strength only where needed

He cannot see what he is straining to uphold
But now the reflection peers back with such broad scope.
It is a Beacon blazing out
The warmth is here and the water runs ever on
It falls from the sky onto fertile ground
Those who have not rolled Thier eyes,
those with fire and warmth still inside,
Come, and make a world of it.
Come and be awake

It is a mirror
That is you
And that is what you have left
To walk in company
To be empty and smiling
To not care
Now you must suffer
In the knowledge of your new vantage

Your hand is in the mirror
The coldest cold you've ever felt
is pulling you in
All you can do is look into the reflection
or choose to step in
But one way or another, in you shall go
Into the motionless space
Where the rest you left to find waits.
Hooray for insomnia caused by mental trauma. It took me 4 hours to write this I hope somebody reads the whole thing lol.
Madeline Jan 2017
This year,
love has so many more meanings than the last.
Love takes up more of the space in which emptiness lived until now.
This year, love can be definable,
or not.
I've learned that some types of love do not sound like
"I love you"
but can only be felt.
In the kind touches of a companion,
of a new little sister,
or of your cats.

Love that can only be seen,
in the pictures of you and your best friend at a party,
in the face of someone who will stay on the line until you say goodbye first,
in your co-star on stage when you realize you've got it down.

Love that can be defined, but only in the obscurist of ways
because who are we kidding;  we're teenagers.
"You are so good"
"I can't wait to see where life takes you"
become immense words of love.

Love only whispered,
in paying for your friend's coffee,
in adding a special touch on a card,
in promising to run away with your best friend when she shows up crying about her mother.

Love,
a light touch of mysticism, the kind that makes you stay out late talking in a Walmart parking lot,
the kind that fills you when you make plans to run away to the city after graduation,
the kind that takes you 40 minutes to get lost in before realizing it.

This year was spent loving,
maybe not even myself most of the time, but loving nonetheless.
A swift movement, a soft turn,
and here we are.
A new year of undefinable, definable, mystical, whispered, and purposeful love.
I can't wait to see where life takes us next.
there are hints of you here
Alan S Bailey Jan 2017
Sure, I've ruined it again!
Follow me around like I'm the actual
And only problem. You'll eventually get yours!
So you think I'm the ultimate biggest of fools?

(Well, for once and for all, check yourself!)*

Nice people finish last, and there's nothing nice
About going around with personal problems, that I
Have to fit your personal standard, even when they
Are following all of the standard rules!
I don't expect ANYONE to read this. Enough said. I know you don't like when I add any personal feelings to my work, guys! But at least I express my true feelings!
noura Jan 2017
┏ ━━┅━━━┅━━ ┓

The Purpose
Of what?

The
purpose

To hate?
To love?
To break?
To ache?

The
purpose

To find a place on this earth
To leave a mark before you rot
To be known
To be praised

The
purpose

We're all looking for
Our weary eyes cry for
The thumps of heart crave for
Our senses quake for

This
purpose

Holding us back
While we're trying to find the crack
That unlocks
the true
meaning
of our
purpose

The
purpose

That our elders have told us
"Will only come in time"
But time is divine
and there's only so little of it

Oh
The
Purpose

Look at what you've done
To the poor
souls
of
this
earth

Look at what you've done

┗ ━━┅━━━┅━━ ┛
ahhhh
first post
first poem i post to the eyes of many
nervous is too plain to describe what im feeling
but oh well
this poem was written on one of those nights when your thoughts take over and you're left at 1 am scribbling on a piece of paper
i dont tend to explain the meaning behind my poems usually because sometimes its obvious but also my poems are for me to know deeply and the readers to wonder mysteriously
i dont know why im writing this
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