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Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2018
Why can't I stop thinking about you?
Will your image ever leave my mind?
Do you miss the soft push of my lips on your skin?
How did our two lives become so entwined?

Where do we place the lingering blame?
Can we lock it in a box and put it out of sight?
Is there a chance for us to start again?
Are we doomed to fade with the daylight?

When will this guilt finally subside?
Has it built a home inside your gut too?
How do I control my urges?
Why can't I stop loving you?

Who am I without your touch?
If I do not have you what remains?
Am I fated to live tethered to my regrets?
Will your name forever flow through my veins?

What keeps me anchored to your flesh?
Could it be the spell cast with your smile?
Why am I drawn to your damaged demeanor?
Is it the passion you effortlessly rile?

How did our relation-ship sink in the inconsistent-sea?
Which iceberg capsized our boat?
Should I have stayed and drowned tide to your side?
Do you believe I was enough to keep you afloat?
I like this one better than part one. It also took me a lot longer to write. These questions are constantly gnawing at my heart.
Noah A Mar 2018
Would the world continue if I were not in it?
Would the laughter cease?
Or would it keep going?

Would I live on in memory?
Or be forgotten?
Would anyone... anybody out there
Care?

Would Death accept me for who I am?
Or leave me?
Amid Life and Death
Light and Dark
Future and Past

Will I ever find out?
Suraj singh Mar 2018
One day I'll be gone
I guess I'm not wrong.
I have few questions for you
Answer them when you have time
But without a single crime this time.
Would you cry?
Would you even try?
Would you ever ask yourself why?
Would you say its such a waste?
Would you wonder at the haste?
Shiny Star Mar 2018
At times,
Why is a bye sweeter than a hi?
Why does feeling low feel high?
Why does being alone not feel lonely?
Why does pain feel like a sweet candy?
Why does being clean feel little *****?
Why does being perfect feel a tint ******?
Why does serenity feel like a cacophony?
Why does silence feel like a symphony?
I wonder why!
Shanath Mar 2018
I try to spit my heart out
To the side of my bed,
Double over and ***** out the memories
Every time I think of you,
So that every time the door opens
It wipes into a bigger score,
When we tried to be good to you,
Remember but, we were not.

And I wonder how
How do we fail so gloriously
When we see the hurt
As clear as the oversized neon signs,
Piling over each other
Over bulky building
Crafted with fragile glass
And sharp corners,
Rusted bars colored twice.

We try to save a few
But **** so many,
We make wider roads
"Four ******* lanes" we boast,
But we tear down homes.
And every time I served you
I thought of your brothers
We stole you from
And I pray they be good
But how will they
Since you were gone?

And I stare at butterflies with awe
But run from the worms,
They make me itch and swell
I cannot help,
And I know, I know
Why we fail so gloriously
And yet try so miserably
To save others.
Why, did you ever see the sorrow
In the sky when she pours
To refill the oceans she emptied,
And we dare to think
We will save others
To save ourselves.

And all that I remember
Is that it was I who killed you.
How do I stop thinking?

The title  "Why Can’t We Save Anybody?"- PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER (the movie, cannot say if it is in the book because ashamed as I am, I haven't read it).
50RR0W Mar 2018
Or
Some times I sit here and wonder if I still exist in their mind.
If I'm really there or not.
Or if I'm just a ghost from a past they long want to forget,
or,
If I'll be remembered when they're ready to see me once more.

A year approaches fast and all I can really do is smile and shrug.
Do I not care anymore?
Do I not love them anymore,
or,
Is it because I've accepted things that have come to fruition from these events?

I want to think on these things but I fear I won't find answers.
Well, the Answers to Questions that I am unaware of still existing.
Then again, do I really want to know,
or,
Do I really want to forget?
Mindless blubbering that comes to me before bed time. Haven't been on here in a while. Built a new PC so haven't had time to log into all of my 'normal' sites. Hope to be somewhat more active again.
Ivan Brooks Sr Mar 2018
When will I really become known,
Is it when I write a book to call my own?
How can I solidify myself as a real poet,
What can I do to become a real laureate?
Am I just going to keep writing poetry
Because of my mastery of words and artistry?
Is that enough to usher me into the spotlight,
And make me win awards before hitting my twilight?

When will I consider myself a real writer
Is it when I have a New York Times bestseller?
I have kept my hands off the intellectual property
Of another poet even though we have no propinquity.
Even though I've followed these poetic etiquettes
It doesn't automatically place me amongst the elites.
So what do I do to progress beyond this rhyming phase,
To Whom do I turn to effectively plead my poetic case?

IB-Poetry©️
3/9/2018
I do wonder about achieving greatness ...call that ambition.If I will ever become great, will it be achieved through poetry?
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2018
How can I feel happy
When inside I'm torn apart?
How am I still able to love
With an aching broken heart?

What can stop your image
From haunting my tired mind?
What will it take for me
To finally leave you behind?

Who are you really underneath
The mask you wear on your skin?
Who am I without your presence
To fill me with devotion within?

When will this loneliness
Stop toying with my brain?
When are the memories
Going to spin down the drain?

Where has my confidence gone
Now that it's vacated my bones?
Where does that leave you and I
More or less than old texts in our phones?

Why does your ghost follow
Every measured step I take?
Why am I consumed by this
Savage pain each time I wake?
This might be part one in a series, I'm not sure yet. I've never done a series before or even attempted to but I ask myself so many questions mostly at night in bed. This barely scratches the surface.
A take on violence

The exiling waves of life
Battered a Syrian child
Swept ashore. We scrolled.
We shrugged this violence.

Eyes glued to a simulacrum of love
Expecting the controlled dominance
Of a filthy rich fictional character
We said: “It’s vanilla.”

Violence as an idea is sweetened
You gulp down the pill
But violence as a means is condemned
You still gulp down the pill.

March 6, 2018
Lyon 1 University
moon-kissedstar Mar 2018
Does happiness comes from happenings, or happenings come from happiness?
Does it makes your life worth living,
Or you choose to live like worthless?
I wish I have answers to everything,
Coz it's exhausting to be clueless-
At the end of the day, I'm hurting

"But I'll love you, nonetheless."
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