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What is reality?
Is everything a lie?
Do we live just to die?
And should we even try?

What is reality?
Is it short and sweet?
Is there a God to meet?
Does it matter who gets beat?

Is reality in the air we breathe,
Or in the people we love?
Or the heavens above?

Where can I go,
in order to find,
this pleasant reality,
that you speak of?
My reality check came in, it’s blank.
Max Mar 12
Enjoy your dreams, reality is cruel enough.
Ammar Mar 12
Popped two xans
Nicotine coursing through
my veins
kerosene flooding
my mind
yet if they knew
I'll be labeled as an addict
but in truth
who isn't addicted to
even a glimpse
of happiness
even if it's temporal

At times
these substances
gives sobriety;
a realistic picture
to everything else
I'll be fine
Dustin Dean Mar 12
A palette of every hue, tells a tale
Visions of terrestrial views, we shall fail
As a community, burdened by ****
For green, in paper, until dust

Vehicles in bloom, make the distance
No question to intentions, incentives
For a reality, structured in somethings
A mere reflection, for greater summits

In days such as this, in my mind
Shrouded in willow green, I find
Must I question, a beckoning call
Before the season’s quilt, shall fall

I am blinded, in peripheral vision
To carry on, toward no provision
For anyone, or anything in my way
Until the white light graces me
In my wake
Jenny Gordon Mar 12
Keats swooned over a world that never was, except in dreams, and I've no use for that.


In lieu of aught we know:  blue skies t'avail
Sans blot of clouds 'til puddles mirror thence
Heavn's eye...take up the chalice to drink hence
That fragrant draught which yields as if to scale
More heady visions than we've drunk, t'exhale
Like sailors on the faerie seas, pretense
Our dainty meat; as lovers swoon for sense
Oer plighted troth, not as we know; sans bail.
Go into raptures likeas Keats would stir
And Byron knew to write, as Shelley drew
Up in his Ode, faint cuz ye know in tour
What minstrels sang in ballads, weaving to
Effect those silken strands to snare souls fer
The Devil's heights.  Cuz what we have won't do.

NOTE:  Who knows of L.E.L. ie Letitia Elizabeth Landon?  I prefer reality though it's far too shallow.
The windmill rattles around
‘the weather here is really nice, the sky is good-looking, and there are a group of happy friends’
So hey, buddy.
Come down to earthly heaven
Enjoy the very best of every minute
Relax in the midst of reality
And succumb when one chooses only to.
Becoming a teenager was the hardest thing I’ve accomplished.
I stopped playing with Barbie dolls, instead I tried to become one.
Thousands spent on makeup, hair, nails, and clothes.

And for what?
Because I actually believed society’s opinion of me mattered.
13 years old, waking up an hour earlier than I used to, to apply layers of makeup and hairspray on top of the person I wanted to be.
I loved the person I was until the age of 13.

There are bullies wherever you go.
There are going to be people that don’t like you, no matter what.
I wish I would’ve known that running away wasn’t the answer.

I thought being pulled out of public school would be better for me and everyone else but boy was I wrong.
Being alone all the time never made me lonely.
I was stuck inside my own head stuck with the bullies I’ve created, clones of the people I’ve come across from before.
The people who hurt me and degraded me.

Depression, anxiety, PTSD, Bipolar, Insomnia.
At the age of 14, I thought a noose would suit my neck better than any kind of necklace.
Pills upon pills turned into pain
Pain turned into shutting everyone out.

Being a teenager was the hardest thing I’ve ever accomplished.
Amanda Mar 10
I am feeling confused about what to do
This is really what I want
Both know it isn't my style
Lie or put on a front

We fight our emotions so hard
Live every day in denial
You really don't sense our love decreasing
Has been happening for awhile

We are just biding time until
Someone better comes along
Using one another for different gains
Symbiotic romance is wrong

Abusive to you at times
I cannot control my anger
You're just as abusive emotionally
My mental health in danger

Substance after substance into bodies
Distract ourselves from reality
Pain has ruined our beautiful love
All we planned we'll never be
I wrote this when I was upset but the truth is I do think we can have the life we planned we just have to work harder than we have been
Chantal Mar 10
It’s a funny thing; knowledge. Your perception is simply an illusion, along with everything else you know. Where there’s a third party, there’s a fourth. It’s maddening really, to be unable to express the depths of your heart, to be unable to form a coherent sentence. All that you know is all that you’ll ever be; But how does one bare it all? Even if You think you did, you haven’t. There are things about you even you don’t know. And no saint ever thought themselves holy.
Everything will look confusing
At a time.
You will think you are been clogged behind
By life's various misgivings
You will be bored
You will be lonely
You will be all but
At peace with your situation of

Then a conflict will occur
At a time.
You will suddenly be surged
Into a labyrinth of labour
It will be fun
It will be occupying
It will all but
Sleep, rest, and ease to the brim.

Then, there will be foreshadowing
And flashbacks too
At a time.
You will reminsce those distant old days;
You will call them 'good old days'.
You will sap by the mouth of a distant future
Where you stand before the world,
Free as the ocean water.
And you will be nothing, but
A convoluted plot
And until death lowers you down,
You will be a fragile indefinite resolution.

You will see
That this, is the story of your life.
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