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Jackie G May 8
To make a new beginning.
To go through, but suddenly go back.
With the ability to rethink prior actions
Correcting self.
To be better at.
Redirecting thoughts.
Applying evaluation to the experiences.
Creating balance to produce better outcomes.
Preparing the mind then training the flesh to follow.
Often hard to do, because sometimes! what or who that has been obtained must be let go of.
Hope for the better, Even with mixed emotions
Step after step
Starting over could be the best bet
Not only is there a New beginning
Also comes Beautiful Endings
You got this!!!!!
Marie Apr 1
In a decades,
beautiful thoughts scattered in
my mind
Dark shadows from the past
hits me so hard
How embarrassed I was
to what I did
I'm ashamed to the words
I write
In the last poem I made.

Shakespeare says,
"What past is prologue."
But how should I start?
Knowing the past,
gives me sadness and grief
As I try to write,
I can't play any single word
And will stagger many times.

The reason,
I give up to write
I'm overwhelmed by
a melancolic ache
I know, you know,
Emotional pain is hard
to dwell
You couldn't find any strenght
to sail back again.

When I look at to the milkyway
Myself console me,
and told me that it's time to go
back and reset everything
No matter how much it cost,
Let the beautiful thoughts
be whole again.
It's been a long time I didn't write poetry. It's good to be back again. Someone reminds me that this month will be the Poetry Month. So, here I come writing again. HAPPY POETRY MONTH!
OV Oct 2019
One day I will disappear
And leave you all behind
To start all over again
To learn to love
To learn to live
To learn how to
Be human again
And after a while
I will do it again
i want to fly across the world and restart sometimes. maybe one day i will...
B D Caissie Sep 2019
When fishing, sometimes it's not what you catch, but what one releases while there that makes the trip worthwhile...
Darren Jul 2019
Take me back
To times of tranquility
In a time of peace
And mental stability

To escape my feelings
Of guilt and regret,
All the trauma and pain
I just...cannot forget

Where my mind is pure
With social innocence
Deaf to their words
Of cynical influence

Where fear is a myth
A story of fiction
Condemned by verse
To eternal extinction

I could be..

Free from the trauma
Free from the pain
I can erase my history
And walk tall again

By Darren Wall
Em MacKenzie Apr 2019
I remember the “reset” button
on my Sega Genesis
and my N64 as a child.
With a quick **** of my hand,
all my mistakes, and problems
could be solved.
I’d get a fresh start,
a new chance to win what I lost.
Almost every single day
I wish for a “reset” button on life.
Instead, I’ll have to settle
for an incomplete game
with achievements unlocked,
with no extra content,
and the lowest of low scores.
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
When I placed the squares under my tongue,
I opened up a portal in my head to elsewhere.
I never want it closed.
The mistakes I keep making once again make
a grand display on the center stage.
It's coming to a close.

Snake the internal path to a detached land,
hands and arms thrusting a T like Jesus.
I cannot let it close.
Trace the slipping blades of grass with no demand,
but to find my voice, hidden, wherever it lies.
I cannot let it close.

I'm at a stage, where stepping back reveals
my influences have transcended and become me,
when what I need, is to find myself
and then speak.
Cedric Feb 2019
‪I see people struggling with what they learned.‬
‪I’ve yet to learn anything.‬
‪My mind just feels empty and blank.‬
‪There’s nothing in it but abstract forms that ellicit vague and varied emotional responses.‬
‪Suddenly, without warning, “it” attacks.‬
‪But my apathy would invalidate “it”.‬
‪But “it” stays there.
Waiting until I feel again.
Until “it” re-triggers my emptiness and apathy.
Waiting to be filled only to be spilt and reduced to nothing.
An absence, a darkness, an abyss of unfeeling.
A deprivation of senses as if something has died.
“It” just does what “it” is intended.
At first, apathy dismisses “it”.
But soon, I regain my consciousness.
And “it” subdues my consciousness into apathy.
“It” is an endless cycle.
There’s no other word for “it”.
It is just “it”; an entity that lacks words to express, a phenomenon.
An anomaly within me.
I’m tired. Academically drained, lacking passion and dreams. Lacking aspirations, goals, ambitions and motivation. Lacking a future outlook. Trapped in a cycle of an empty mind and a broken body. I don’t feel anything but heaviness. Maybe this is depression? Lapses in memory? Random aches? Hypochondria? “It” swallows me whole.
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