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thelemonpolice Sep 2019
doubt seeps through
my head
the questions I've said

don't really make much sense
have I passed?
I beg

You, please tell me
I just can't wait much more

I wish I could be her
Or anyone

Somebody good
And professional
Just down right nice

If I could switch my place
Or just switch my eyes

But that's nothing
I need to analyse

But the more I find
The more I want to cry

They don't stop
pouring
I just think too much

I know just what to do!
But never know enough.

I need to scoop my brain out
Empty it like ice-

Cream, lay the contents out
and hope that would suffice

Me, I should mix them up
And see what I'm made of

Which flavours do I make
Which flavours are made up?

Because I'm done today
B R A I N F R E E Z E
Sort it out!

it's my mess to clean
It's my success I doubt
Mimi Hachiko Jul 2019
The girl with many faces
While trying to embrace it
Took an unexpected turn
Looking for more to learn
Rough roads ahead
Even with the meds
Swerving left and right
Speeding into the night
A crash has yet to come
But the night is young
She tenses for the impact
Prepared she is to react
The hardest part is the time
It takes for events to unwind
Into something less abstract
But now the damage is contract
Farhan Ahmed Jan 2019
Why are we in a hurry?
and there is so much to worry...
When everything has already been there
And we just live it through
About the choices we care
About the moments of me and you

Why are we in a hurry?
And there is so much to bother
When the book was published long ago
And we just read it through
About the different chapters
About the ends and beginnings like the pages are new

Why are we in a hurry?
And there is so much to achieve
When the doubt is you believe
And we just cry it through
About the facts and decisions
About the lies and what is true

Why are we in a hurry?
And there is so much at stake
When the dark nights are awake
And we just count it through
About the minutes and seconds
Hack the system of life just to pretend
Running out of time?
Then one day
After a long wait, he did return
Our eager adventurer
The roving ambassador
His old glimmer and gait intact
He appeared unchanged
But when he narrated his tales
There was a queer pitch
The air was different
The unfamiliar words he spoke indecipherable
The strange places he had visited
Could not be known
And as we listened we wondered why
Influenced he certainly was
For, after his efforts
He had forgotten his native tongue
He had unlearned his past
Could it be
His visit to a new world
Had rendered him vulnerable
Made him lose track of his actuality
And forget what he ever was
Maybe he had created a world for himself
And only returned to include us
We might never know
pri Sep 2018
i have not written since my last disaster.
the hopelessness, and the empty,
they were horrible feelings, but they held a beauty not worth having.

today, i worry. because tomorrow, the world demands results.
today, i worry. because so many people have told me so many things.
today, i worry. because so many people want me to join their laughter.
today, i worry. because no one knows what i’m doing.

the sun came back -did you know?
however, it is so much easier to study in the rain. i feel the need for my life,
when in reality my life should be tomorrow -because the world demands results.
because those results i also demand of myself.

yet, my heart, ever persistent, collides.
it whispers to me -can you believe it? she knows about that?
and it tells me -you can’t miss these things.
even though i can’t solve these things, they won’t let me rest until they’re solved.

but the world demands results. it wants a girl with a voice,
a girl who can turn circles and spheres and make something out of what she’s been given.
most importantly, it demands a girl who can solve any problem,
reason out every thought for hours. those are results.

and day after day, i change from i to she. because i am me. and i’m also she.
she, who can be the girl the world demands.

she has no time for this, she knows. her whole life is results.
as it should be. and when she’s done, she rests her shoulder against her bed.
and once, long ago, used to wonder who found her beautiful.
once, used to dismiss that feeling.

now, she carries it. each time the world demands, she gives.
she gives everything for results, and everything else for those people.
expect one thing. one, who she can’t see. one has held her hand twice,
one who makes dreams with her.

one, who she makes dreams with. because when the world is done demanding,
she’ll send her letters in the form of keys,
and think about what they’ll become.
she rests her back against her bed, and wonders what it would be like if she was sitting next to her.
holding her hand under the moonlight and holding her in heart as she allowed the day to seep out of her.
I believe that every conscious being travels this road
Where nothing is completely given or reached
Where everything completely stop but never goes
This road diverged into either the left path or right
plagued with the  decision of making a choice
The pressure of that inner voice
Speaking to you
of the consequences of each action
the good never out weigh  the bad
The consequences never worth the results
The action of always sacrificing something in terms of ganging
It is the  road that you cannot venture away
No matter where you turn
you always end up returning
this road is one who tampers with your mental capacity
Your morality
Your happiness
Your individuality
It happened too those before
and will to those after me
what a progressional tragedy
İlayda Korkmaz Apr 2018
I hate results,
Consequences are better...
Studies are fun,
When the findings don't matter...

For consequences postpone finalization,
And keep the story unfolding...
When research continues,
Things to be learned become never-ending...

Progress is birthed by process,
That's why it's the journey that counts...
Rigid conclusions are dead ends,
Cages which nothing new surmounts...

The happenings on the way,
Outweigh the destination...
Everybody remembers what took place during the holiday,
But not the moment one reenters their houses after a vacation...

When one disregards the ways things come to be,
It's frighteningly easy to become careless...
One might stop fighting for what's right,
And doing things properly becomes meaningless...

It also keeps (s)he who overlooks from enjoying the little things,
From appreciating dainty flowers and enjoying the fiery waves...
It makes one numb, and that is the worst of all,
For nothing alse matters but the moments and companions before we reach our graves...

When we die, then we die,
Nothing more is to come...
Death is the most empty part of our lives (if it is indeed a part of it)
So really it is none of our concern to consider life's outcome...

We should try to live for the moment and the moments after,
Just make sure it's not death for which we strive...
So let us not live for death,
But rather for life...
I refused to use periods in this poem because they end sentences and that's againt the entire point of the poem
exist Mar 2018
i believe it is wrong to say "it's not about how you get there, its about the end result" because when you finally make it to where you want to be will you be proud of what you have done, when there's no where to go, not even back.
idk if this makes sense just a thought
zero Aug 2017
I feel useless,
and there is nothing you can do to make me feel better.
The thoughts in my head are carnivorus,
and the self harming jealousy of my peers
slit my wrists just to watch me bleed out.
To my parents, I apologise because I can't do any better,
I've tried harder than I dare to think.
Although I have failed,
grant me this moment to be proud of me,
your child,
or forever hold your peace.
To my parents on this day,
I tried my hardest.
Please grant me this.
-Zero.xo
Emily Chambers Aug 2017
There was this time in middle school when
I kissed a guy and shouldn't have
And left someone and didn't tell them
Acted ****** up when I wasn't
Now I am
(It hurts so bad)
Fell in love
Destroyed myself
Contemplated, contemplate, contemplating
Cried in the high school bathroom over some guy that didn't matter
Took Tylenol without food
Never stole anything
Should've stolen something
Kept everything a secret
Didn't stand my ground
Was too forceful
Lost myself in the lost and found
Yes. Many things.
But it doesn't matter now that it's over and
Done.
I was writing a lot in a journal of mine then packed it to go to college when I wanted to put the poems in, so hey guys I'm back! Some of these will be a little depressing but it's ok it was me working out my problems I guess.
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