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axel 4d
nothing is worse than mixed signals
do you still want me
do you still love me
please let me know
so i can act accordingly
Shadow Dragon Nov 2018
I paint over
the true colors
that they show me.
But they blend
and I no longer know
what color it is.
It's a mix
and that is how
mixed signals are created.
They are not made by them.
They are made by you.
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
Sending all signals they possess the soul
Feel a jolt from clouds of lightning

This is all true I know
They have taken my soul

Replaced by something new
Just to get a new aspect view

Free the eternal soul within me
Not a question of why or what is with this

Songs I sing can not be replaced
The thought of that can not be erased

Things these days have no means to an end
I hope that someday there will be a another message I can send

Feeling the pressure I release a gift that will surface
Hoping someday something new will serve it’s purpose

They all confused me
Confounded because my talent is not lazy

Help me survive where I want to be
Because they all diluted me
ashley marie Sep 2018
its not a good sign when
you stop writing your words
for those that may be willing to lend an ear;
its not a good sign when
your computer doesn't recognize the hello poetry url
that used to be so deeply embedded into its system;
its not a good sign when
you feel your poems no longer have meaning
it is pointless to write anonymously to no one
its not a good sign when
you have to fluff your scripture
to make it more believable to readers,
or maybe yourself.
Andrew Mar 2018
You're a satellite that relays pain
Synchronizing circles in my brain
While signaling shame
To come join the game

You present a mighty mystery
That makes my sanity history
From agony that is blistering
That's what your wit serves me

The ambiguity
Is slowly ruining
My innate ingenuity
Yet I must act intuitively

You're a satellite in the air
In desperate need of repairs
I ask to see your schematics
I'm told I'm being dramatic

I float through space and time
After losing this race of lies
Along with the grace of mine
While stuck in the pace of grind

Before too long I answer wrong
A one-sided game of ping-pong
And your attitude is singsong
Not caring if something's wrong

Outside of the Earth's atmosphere
The sun is to be feared
Because it doesn't care
I experience a solar flare
Then the gamma rays poke holes in my cells
Until I'm eventually in hell
With a satellite that can't communicate
Only ruminate
On information already gathered
So there is no room for me
But until an asteroid splatter
There will be signals I see
yellow soul Jul 2018
His childhood went up in smoke when his mom got sick
He found out, he could hide in that little cloud of smoke,
he made, when he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette.  
He lost the girl of his dream, because of the smoke
that went down to his lungs, out of his mouth and into her hair.
He tried to show her, that he needed her help by make smoke signals,
because he had heard that that’s the way to ask for help,
when its serious and nobody is around.
She never noticed his cry for help in the smoke.
his life went up in smoke.
Oh, how nice it would be
To live supple minded fantasy,
Where subtle signals from the skies
Augment virtues of humanity;
To look upon the Gods and see
They've--relinquished all morbidity,
And as the evil within us dies
So too, the epic of tragedy.
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