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i really wanted this to work.... and i know you did too. but the rain started, and the wind picked up and eventually it was tearing things apart. ripping out the roots of thousand year old tree's, washing away the beauty of us.
it rained, and rained and rained and i thought it would stop, i really did. i thought if i could just let the storm pass, let it dry up everything would go back to normal.
but.... it never did it was just getting stronger and stronger until everything was falling apart.
and now i know why storms are named after people.
you came and you destroyed....
Jeremy Betts Jan 17
Seas churn wildly
Dancing with the icy wind
No land mass in sight
Alone in it's savagery
My heart and soul mirrors it

©2025
~ Tanka ~
A Japanese poem that is 31 syllables long and is written in five lines and follow a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable pattern.
~
The word Tanka translates to "short poem" or "short song".
~
Indigo Maroon Jan 16
How DARE you do this to me? You know how hard it is for me to
Open my mind to others, to trust anyone. I trusted you.
Why don't you understand the enormity of that?

Deep inside, I know you meant no harm. Or did you?
All the paranoia is rushing back and I'm sinking deeper in my own
Righteous insanity as I spiral in panic and fury. This is the
End of everything

You don't get it! I tried to explain it but you don't see how you're
Obliterating everything I've worked so hard for! Why don't you
Understand that you're ruining my life?

Doing this, telling them, betraying my trust in this
Overzealously evil way, nothing will ever be the same.

This is only proving to me what you've been trying so
Hard to erase from my mind: that
I can't trust ANYONE, or maybe I just can't trust adults,
Since I told plenty of friends and they didn't care

Truthfully, I'm getting a bit tired of all this. What's next?
Obviously, my whole center of gravity is about to shift.

Maybe everything will be ok? No, this is the beginning of the
End
Difficult to organize my thoughts into acrostic form while in fight or flight
cleo Jan 14
so scared of losing yourself
to a future disease
you forgot about the rage inside
and your family's grief

there's a lifetime of love here
but it's getting hard to see
this thing you think you're fighting
well it's really fighting me
Sojou-
rning, sco-
rnfully, to J-
upiter's red s-
***. The circu-
lar, scarlet rage,
it, roundly, and, r-
ubily, rotates, into
whirlwinds, of ste-
aming, magma, hot.
The firef-lies, lay, t-
heir eggs, in; truth,
and, hope, that, d-
eceptions, hatch.
The batches, fl-
y, never, brou-
ght to, light.
Oppressi-
vely, the-
y, stay.

© poormansdreams
Have you ever been so angry that you feel the incandescent rage propelling you with a magnitude of force to write a poem about it?
polina Jan 11
no
Are you a bad person?
Or are you just hurting, and
You lash out at every single person
Who actually cares?

Do you think it makes me feel good,
Or sympathetic, when you
Spit in my face and disregard
Every beautiful moment we had?

Do you think it’s better this way,
To have so many people apathetic to you
From repeated insults, and screaming
And broken trust?
Is that better than having people love you?
Ember Jan 9
storm rages without,
woman rages within.

no meteorologist,
no man,
could have seen it coming,

blind to the greying clouds,
senseless to the burning-wire scent
of building fury.

it seems all blue-sky beauty,
a bearing akin
to cumulous tufts of vapour.

she is sunny and bright,
until fluffy clouds are ripped open
with shouting thunder and lightning strikes.

then man-meteorologist
is blind to the storm
no more.
Jesse Jan 6
“You know what, she’s actually right”
Suddenly, the chatter faded
The only sound that I can hear is just a blaring horn echoing through the busy street
And thousands of voices in my mind
“Thanks dad for the heads up"
It actually feels really good to have someone defending you in the middle of arguments with your mother
Because I know that I will never win against her
“Thanks dad for understanding me”
As I let those feelings sink in, i start to realize,
i shouldn’t think like that

My 15-year-old self will never think like that
I used to hate him, you know
I used to hate my father.
Yet here I am now,
thinking like he would think
saying the things that he would say.

I still remember how it felt,
When I have a big fight with my mother
She looks at me right in the eye
Her sight is filled with rage and tears that dared to fall
And she said,
“you know what you sound like right now? you sound like your father”
13 words I wish I’d never hear again

That was a few years ago but the weight of her words still lingers in my mind to this day
I never wanted to be like him
But the more I think about it,
The more I realize
That I have so much of him in me

Now, I wonder
Did i slip into his shoes without even realizing?
Have I turned into him?

-N.J
i think about this at least 10 times a day #lol
Raziel Dec 2024
A spark ignites, so small, so sly,
Born of a glance, a word gone awry.
It leaps to life, a sudden flame,
Feeding on fury, stoked by blame.

A roaring blaze, fierce and wild,
A tempest untamed, untender, unstyled.
It sears through thought, it burns through care,
Consuming reason in its glare.

For a moment, the world is ablaze,
Each breath, each pulse, a molten haze.
Tongues of wrath lick at the soul,
Devouring warmth, devouring whole.

And then—it fades, a cruel retreat,
Leaving silence sharp and bittersweet.
The ashes settle, the embers die,
Cold winds rush where heat did lie.

Empty now, a hollowed shell,
No comfort left, no tale to tell.
Anger spent, it leaves behind
A frigid void, an aching mind.

Oh, fleeting fire, so quick to start,
You scorch the soul, you break the heart.
Yet in your wake, a truth is told:
A flash of fury leaves only cold.
I'm burning inside
firstdraftfolder Dec 2024
how eerie it is to watch the unfathomable happen
right before our eyes, burning through
our privilege, destroying our make believe borders of protection.
neatly trimmed bushes, newly painted streets
yet there it is, the pandemonium of
the violence, the fear
scrolling through feeds to see lives taken
by the tip of a fuel raged knife
or by the impact of a charged bullet.
what was once seen on our tv,
now happening two blocks down
how unraveling to see that
our backyards are burning.
what are we doing? our backyards are burning
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