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LaCayla Aug 20
I want to be a mental health social worker.

I want others to not feel the pain that I am feeling.

I want to teach others how to understand
their emotions,
their doubts,
their worries.

I want to help others learn
how to be happy,
how to cope
how to find a hobby.

I want others to know that I am here,
and that I'm not going to leave.

I want them to know that I can help them.

I want to lower the depression rates,
make people

I want a lot of things,
so I'm going to
get up
do something
help others

I want to make a difference
so I'm going to

Until my goal is met,
I will repeat

I will repeat
over, and over, and over

Until I have what I want

Until I can find peace with myself
Jack Jul 28
I feel like a puppet in suspension
Like I'm not really myself

I'm just watching this world from my lonely little self

I'm forced to see the same **** things go by
Every single morning and every single night

I don't have much to say in the matter of this plight
Even if I did I wouldn't try to fight

Because no what you do
Or what you say

It always repeats
Every single day
Wake up.

Wait a moment after you open your eyes,thinking and wanting to just go back to bed.

Realize you can’t.

Sit up and look out the window. Contemplate jumping out.

Distract yourself and tell yourself you’ll jump tomorrow.

Get dressed, wander to the bathroom thoughtlessly, and do the same mundane tasks you do every morning.

Start to smile. Who knows,maybe you’ll fool yourself.

Repeat the next day.
Nylee Jul 9
Cold feet.

Moving the feet
Left and right
Belief in belief

On this wintery night
Beneath the starlight
Looking at the dark blue

The racing in the head
All the things left unsaid
The messeges never sent

Non escapable, this
non answering pleas
No ease, no fire
all smoke, left cold

So making
Is breaking
Life is a lie

A ramble,
What a life

The cold feet,
A defeat,
Another repeat.
Nylee Jul 5
In dreams
A sequence to memory
Everything that happens
Is a lie
Everything that happens
Is a truth
It is beyond comprehension
I dive into every night
Repeat everything
Forget it next thing in the morning.
Poetic T Jun 27
I repeated every lesson,
          hearing every drowning

Every syllable that was recast,
       but I never learnt a single...

done over,

Reproduced as another version of
              the same verse..

Everything was!

redone, remade..
   In the fashion of what was before.

But even though I sat in every class..

        I never took a single word in..

The teachers changed, but I remembered
                     that one who made me resit

every lesson....

I cant see anything in this crammed space...

                    But hopefully one day some
one will cover me for a toilet break..

And I'll be peace....

I resit every lesson and still
                      all I see is deathly words..
                                       Never heard,
   but reverberating though hollow bones
Poetry is for the lost and the broken,
People like me and you, who come here to feel our emotion.
Poetry is for those who want to express our desire for the world in our hands...yet in a subtle way where someone can understand.
We think and write to publish for the world to hear, but are they truly listening?
Make a song, people will listen for the upbeat it brings,
Music & Poetry get along,
Because they are both ******* to our human souls,
Something we never seen or heard before, meant from the heart and expressed with passion.
We dance to the sounds of our emotion
We cry to the feeling of your emotion,
but when its over, we hang it on repeat, so we can continue to feel that emotion someone else makes us feel. How so much more relatable can it be,
that someone ordinary like you and me, can feel the exact same way?
We read each other's poetry and finally can feel through a strangers heart that we have never met before, because music & poetry truly get along.
Sweet symphonies of our heart waves connecting through a distance touched bring fourth an illusion love.
How we can all come together with our emotion through song and poetry.

Sometimes I wake up out of breath
Questioning if I am living only for death
My bed holds bad dreams and demons
No peace comes when I am sleeping

Questioning if I am living only for death
I hate my life and I have nothing left
No peace comes when I am sleeping
Only thing keeping me sane is books

I hate my life and I have nothing left
I care for others more than I do myself
Only thing keeping me sane is books
My friends wear makeup and cute looks

I care for others more than I do myself
I can hardly stand getting out of bed
My friends wear makeup and cute looks
While I can't stomach my own reflection
Sometimes I wake up out of breath

-A Black Girl Untold
of a repeat image he did employ
which was akin to an advertisement
this being the artist's own singular ploy
did he do it for some little amusement
in galleries these very works can be seen
where they will feature an alike object
as if the viewer needed a copy screen
to understand the picture's subject
a dozen or more on the white background
they displayed a famous maker's name
who did blend the tasty liquid's abound
that was captured in a pop artist's frame
on this night I've written about the man
known far and wide for depicting a can
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