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Perpetual Evening.

Car door.
Street light.
Your Lips.
Never felt better.

GarretT JohnsoN
oooh, wait....uh never mind.
This rose color makes me sting,
Its petals bite my soul like a knife,
Thorns pierced my heart,
My grin is lost in the dense forest,
That rose reigns in that dense forest.

Blood tears coming out of my eyes,
just like,
dew drop of the rose petals seen,
My heart is thundering like a cloud,
Tears like raining in dense forest.

These rose colors are like my sorrow color,
Red color is like the blood of my loved ones who died,
White color is like shroud of my loved ones who died.

Rose makes my eyes restless,
My heart soulless,
I do not want to see them,
But in my dense forest, roses are roses.
This poetry is based on Imagination
in which i am the part of such dense forest where only roses and roses,every roses are cause of my pain..its make me restless.
But after i'm part of such forest.
where only pain resides.
Thanks for reading
Nylee Jul 8
i expect today a sad day
a silent day
a tiring day of waiting
it is calm
with its restless way
the unknown
creeping up on my face

the first half, left up
the next right, the second call
a building floor
every home in discord
a frozen time
clock moving its hand hour
the patience
is just a thread long

the work is third cup done
the coffee cold
a look into cynic's mind
it is hopeless pit
wonder when star's align
and time be right
it has turned out plain and trite

a bare notepad,
my current head space
working for what
the life is continuously stale
it is mundane
at boredom's highest scale
i should shut down.
Parin Jun 20
I am lifeless
Such as a dry falling leaf
Dead from inside
Yet restless and rustling
In the wind
As to go far away
To separate itself from it's roots
And never to come back from where it once left.
Poetoftheway May 29
Clueless, Restless, but then the Moon Speaks!

can you see clouds at night, askes the moon,
my train, my assemblage of word worshippers,
who ask me by the thousand for clearer answers,
“one if by day, two if by night” is my evere’d reply,
bereft of confidences, steps unsteadied, full of distemper,
shaky uncertain, so answer all, once more, but only with
difficulty am I understood, for the simplicity so so great!

the moon comes to you nightly, never! never are you ignored,
your lost alone words always well heard, we are two together,
we are all
two, if by night, my lune bright, ours, your answer!

Together Nightly, Are We Not Poets of the Way?
Feels like the days are flowing by,
While I lay here, restless
Unaware of my becoming
Like an unusual goodbye.
Jennifer May 22
pile of folded clothes laying on my bed
doused in sunlight
coming in through the blinds;
today my eyes ache,
only managed to sleep in the early hours
of the morning, i could cry.
i want to go out
forget about my thoughts for a while,
focus on me and my little mind:
wind’s lashing though.
i hate the wind, it blows my skirt
and my hair askew.
wish i could go down by the river
and see all of the little painted boats;
forget i am alone.
J May 5
4pm cold brew always seems like a good idea at the time
on top of the world
senses are heightened
cat-like reflexes are activated
spidey senses are tingling
colors have taste

but that 4pm cold brew turns into 2am anxiety and overthinking
mind running in every position on all of the the 4x1 teams at states
“if only i hadn’t said that”
“what if i just gave them what they wanted?”
2 turns to 3
(tears slowly stream down temples; eyes glued to tracing patterns in the ceiling)
3 turns to 4
“where did i go wrong?”
and so on
finally the sky turns purple
eyes close
crows caw
the sun is here to say “hey”
(eyeballs burn under closed lids; jaw clenches)
time to start your day
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