I believe in the Sun even when it isn’t shining
I believe in Love even when I am alone
I believe in Happiness even when the world is crying
I believe in the Lord even when it seems I’m on my own
I believe in tomorrow even when I feel like tonight will never end
I believe in all these things because they always come back again
For every dark night, there’s an even brighter day
For every hollow path is a more fulfilling way
In every dark cloud, you can find a silver lining
So I keep my faith, and my faith keeps me grinding
Against the icy metal, like the rose that grew
From concrete, with its scratched and hardened petals
When no one in the world was here to love me
I held my head to the sky above me
And I was happy because I kept my faith
If you don't need love....
Then what's the point of me....?

I guess In the end I really am useless
If I'm a constant reminder of pain then is there any point

I'm not sure anymore, feels like your distancing yourself from me anyway

I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted.

- from a poet with a broken heart that still holds hope that everything will work out
Cries for help
Are not cries for attention
I mean
A little attention
Is all that person
Ever really needed
Just to know
You're not alone
You're not the only one
Who lies awake at night
And waits to die
I'd be a lie
If I said
I haven't tried
And these people
With their masks on
They tell me
All you ever write about
Is suicide
But they're wrong
I write
For hope
I write
To cope
I write
To let you know
You're not alone

It's ok not to be ok
I’ve been a ghost
For some time now
I didn’t realize it
With the lights out

It was less dangerous
Like he said it would be
It wasn’t painless
The way they said it would be
Falling free

I can’t hear my cell phone ring
Whenever they’re calling me
So more transparent than pale
Just like the ale
That always reminds you of me
Falling free

I fall in deep
No one can see me but you
And you’re all I see
Kivanc 3d
I'm going mad, there is no doubt.
children in my brain,
whose dreams are broken,
screaming in eternal silence,
wanting to find their relations
in the merry-go-round.
volcanos burn me inside,
their lavas killing my emotions.
if all the things will be shuttered,
why volcanos and merry-go-round,
and the children mouths'
are open now?
madness still make me alive, there is no doubt...
sheila sharpe Jun 12
I see them still, even here, once more secure and safe,
stilled by a stiff whisky, and a good book by my bed
I’m secure, safe, yet still they inhabit my weary head
funny, because when I was out there in those war struck streets
scanning shards of glass still hanging in the blackened frames
they did not appear but then
they are skilled at not being apparent
even when their handiwork is evidenced
in shredded mouths agape in rictus’d grimace
we were trained to seek out their devices
before they blossomed in scarlet death
we were trained to watch for those youths
innocent eyed as agile fawns
faces aglow with dissident idealism
seeing only differences, not brotherhood
though we were scarcely older than they
I see them still, even here, secure and safe
in old familiar surroundings
I see them
absurd, I know, yet, still, I see them
but, I console myself for there is time
and  images can, with time, fade
Warfare nowadays
eli Jun 11
The pain is still present,
steady as my heartbeat
but is no longer overtaking me

My heart aches
literally aches just by the thought of you

I want you to know that everything I said was true
and never have I doubted my love for you

So goodbye for now
hope to see you in my de ja vu
Aa Harvey Jun 8
There is no money in poetry

The foundations have been laid, now the money needs to be made.
I want to become a full time poet; how do I make this pay?
Is there anybody out there willing to offer a helping hand?
If poems were worthy £1, I would have made a grand.

What is poetry worth?
I know the value of words;
But what hope is there for a future,
When poetry is all free, just like music?
We live in a changing world.

Still seeking a publisher;
Still seeking inspiration.
Still seeking enlightenment;
Still in need of a vacation.

I write at least one poem a day; now I’m on book twenty two.
I like that Twenty One Pilots song they are playing;
I wish I could know what you think.  What will it take to prove,
That people like my poetry and the words that I use?
No other job will ever inspire me, I have a vocation;
This is my truth.  This is what I do.

Please send a sign, or a contract to sign;
It’s a sign of the times, that there is no money in rhymes.
I’m not asking for much money; just enough to live comfortably.
I dream of having my books published; no I’m not being funny.

I’m deadly serious; this is what I need, what I want.
I want to be a poet; I will do whatever I must.
My life is too short on this Earth to be lying, in the sun;
I must write, I must yearn; I must believe and I must trust.

One thousand poems written; some good, some bad.
But the majority are welcomed with open hands.  I gave it all I had.
I am still a novice; I am always honest.
I am getting better with age; even if this poem doesn’t show it.

This is truth, this is real; now let it pay for my meals.
I am humble before all poets; if you ask I will kneel.
I will beg you to just take a look at my works;
Do not judge me by just one poem.  That is all I ask;
Surely this I deserve.

No poet can always be perfect;
My style may be different to theirs,
But we are all worthy of your notice…

Let us know that you care.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
eli Jun 7
and in a room filled with people
i still feel lonely

i want you
i need you
i only want to be lonely with you
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