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Riz Mack Jul 2019
Something awoken I long thought dead
Something broken, back from the dead
The long sleep felt too long in my head
Now I sleep with everything she said

Something smoking in my bed
I was choking while she bled
Turning hope from black to red
then back to black the minute she left

I've traced her steps and every one led
to water I can't walk on or even tread
Still jumped in, now I'm sinking like lead
Going down quicker than the sickest head

At the bottom I float not living or dead
Stuck in a limbo of my own intent
My prayers returned, unopened, unsent
All i have left is the long cold descent

my currency to the last cent
I can't seem to help repeating myself
Can't seem to stop teetering on the edge
of nothing to say that hasn't been said
I'm so tired
A promise I make
Believe in resolutions
Maybe, maybe not
To make or break...
Maybe yes
A rebel at heart right from the start

A promise I make
To my thoughts
They shall be worded
Maybe...  maybe not

I shall keep
The promise I make
I will fail you,
I will fall.
Let you down just like before.
Everything I built will burn.

Broken dreams and broken trust
Crush the hopes you held so dear.
A shallow wave,
I'm so wind tossed.
I can't find my way.

A thousand nights I've spent right here.
A thousand times I've fallen down.
I spend more time in the grave
Than with the living.

What is wrong?
Why can't I change?
I'm always lost or in the way,
And so tired now,
I just want to die.

Because I'm so tired
Of my own tired out excuses.
And I'm so done
With this over played refrain.
I've rehearsed these lines
A thousand times,
But everything is useless.
No matter how hard I try, how hard I cry,
Nothing will ever change.

Can you find me?!
Do you still love me?!
Will you save me once again?
I spend more time falling,
Than I ever do on my feet.
Tell me! Please! Tell me!
What the Hell is wrong with me?!
Clive Blake Mar 2018
Do you know what it’s like
To be required no more,
To be put out to grass,
To be kicked out the door,
To know your work’s ended,
No more will be done,
To be slung on the tip,
Pushed aside by the young,
To be pensioned off
In an unceremonious way,
To know you’ve had your’s -
Every dog has its day,
To have an appetite for work,
But be left to hunger,
To be replaced by someone
More able and younger,
To be told you’re too old,
When you feel in your prime,
To be sent on your bike,
Before it’s your time,
To be all washed up
And flushed down the drain,
To have no physical wounds,
But still be in pain,
To feel your age,
Find you’re no Peter Pan,
To see your life going
No longer to plan,
To recall when you felt rich,
But now you feel poor,
To hear your heart slowly pumping,
Alas’ it races no more,
To experience an emptiness
That nothing will fill,
To have no medical symptoms,
But still feel ill,
To be out of control
Of your own destiny,
To be constantly asking
Why me ... why me?
There is a follow up poem to this entitled 'Required Once More'
Skylar Keith Nov 2017
Reflecting into my vision
Reading between the lines of my own mind

Running away
Running back

Rotten judgement is what I seem to be
Ripped away from what I know about myself

Reviling is what I am accused of
Right or wrong doesn't seem to matter anymore

Responsibility knocks on my door
Reduce the yearning

Remorse fills my eyes
Rolling my eyes in mockery

"Life is what you make it (Zico)"
or does life make you?
Emmanuel Boyd Feb 2017
The fact you repeat something over & over again
But it becomes completely unnecessary
Is redundant

When you lead me on.
Showing a bit of emotion.
The commotion kills my brain like a  potion

But it's rundant

The more we speak around,
The more our heart will drown,
Because that bush that wasn't easy to get around
Has you down

But beating through that bush,
Will only cause me to push
Back to a reality that that will be missed

I hear it now, but I see something else
I hear it now, but I want it to be something else

Constantly exploring this muscle  
That's called a heart.
But when I search it's cold and dark

But I know it's uncalled for
Because it's redundant to think about that thought.
Mark Parker Feb 2017
A flower is poetically redundant,
I'd rather use a bomb with wires -red, green, and blue.
Cut one, let's see if she loves me!
Valentines Day at its finest.
Spike Harper Jul 2016
I have lost.
Or stopped.
On others.
I exhale.
To dispell.
As i drag.
The darkness.
I fall.
Tier after.
To tare.
Division wins.
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