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Brandon Conway Jun 2018
Do you remember when we were fearless
I would jump in the lake
Swim shoes lead to a shirt to not even swimming
Do you remember when we would go to concerts and I would body surf
Back row to ear plugs now we never go
Remember when we were sociable
I would have friends and conversate
Phone calls to text messages to not even talking

Do you remember when things went wrong?
Cody Haag Apr 2016
Babbling like a fool,
Proving myself a tool,
I see judgment in those eyes,
I know I am despised.

My mouth closes then,
This is not my friend.
They think I am dumb,
I feel oh so numb.

Mouth, know your place,
It is inferior, like your face.
Please, get in line,
That disdain is a sign.

Speaking is not meant for me,
I am a total freak.
They know it on sight,
My chest is so tight.

Put me out of my suffering,
Their judgment is puncturing.
Their eyes are deadly blades,
I wish that I could fade.
I don't think any of these thoughts are good, and I'm not trying to spread negativity to readers of this poem. I'm simply portraying the thoughts that cross my mind when I am put into social situations.
Amour de Monet May 2014
Did I tell you?

I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?

— The End —