Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
sushii Sep 1
as i walk upon this ground—
your ground,
i suddenly miss you,
my native brothers.

the oak trees twist and turn
signaling the return of my soul
and the loss of yours

on behalf of my kind, i truly apologize
we stole your land
and murdered you all

your statement was right—
no one can own the Earth.
we have tried,
and look where it brought us.

now we are burning up
at the expense of prosperity
and sacrificing longevity

native american blood
flows deeper, beyond fossil fuels
underneath the fracking
there’s truth buried somewhere

i can feel it, i definitely can
i wish i could scream to everyone,
“they were right!”

i wish i could scream to everyone
i wish i could bleed myself
to show them what we have lost...
to show them who you have lost.

native american blood
dries and coagulates accordingly
to our war rules

native american blood
flows no longer
stagnant in our marginalized hearts

native american truth
was our last hope
Jaxey Aug 25
I'm sorry I stole your sweatshirt
I was aiming for your heart
This was the closest I could get
Without completely falling apart
I'm sorry
Kay-Rosa Aug 23
almost caught around cold marble corners,
stealing strawberries
never noticed by the common crowds,
painfully singled out by the mobs
snatching frozen kisses through double sided mirros,
make me look conceded
silver moments savored by golden windows,
showing worlds who never cared
wondering why we are labeled as villain,
they are the crude smokes that filling ****** skies
contaminated by pleas of those who perspire over you,
fall me upon silent ears
slink around in dark damp under-secret tunnels,
intials engraved within an immature heart pressured into perfection by natural issues
pollution, famine, war, death
four horsmen ready to ride unto an unforgiving world,
but i am the best
the horsemen can never outrun me
i'll always be just behind the almost-loyal congregations, lying in wait amongst the shadows not cowering,
waiting for their side effects to set in
it never takes long
for the noble steeds stomp upon my seeds of doubt,
pressing them firmly in with blood, sweat and tears
first, little sprouts, then large blinding leaves and rolling suffocating vines with poison thorns
don't ***** yourselves children, the fear will set in
hello, freshman year
roumen Jul 29
You told me
You don't want to be stolen.
Sleep is stealing you from me.

You told me
You don't want to be stolen.
Town is stealing you from me.

You told me
You don't want to be stolen.
World is stealing you from me.

I will fight for every inch of your body.
I will fight for every drop of your tears.
I will fight for every smile of your soul.

I am warrior and can do that alone.
But not lonely.
In the dark.
In me.
For you .
In the world.
But not alone.
YOU ...
mine treasure hiden and lonely...
Monisha Jul 24
One night one day, stolen moments,
an unfinished bottle of wine and some conversations still paused;
Eyes locked, lips docked, raspy breathing out and in,
tangled sheets,  heartbeat to heartbeat above all the din.

Surreal, magical, sensual and true,
Mind Body Soul, in some moments, so few;
Forbidden, thrilling and a tantalising high,
A  fantasy of a rendezvous, my oh my!

What were the chances of two strangers connecting,
Baiting, mating and clandestinely fating,
serendipity thou art a magical brew,
Oh! Now estranged one,  this is my ‘while waiting’ ditty to you...
vern Jul 15
how could I be so blind
to the stolen glances you gave me
was there always such a loving intent
within your gaze
how was I so oblivious
to miss your eyes on me
writer's block has been so rough
here's something until my writer's block goes away
annh Jul 7
You build your nest of pretty words,
Sly threads of verbiage,
Plucked from outworn phrases,
Secondhand sentiments and frayed metaphors.

A thorny simile, a faded pink ribbon,
Of rhetoric woven with silky streamers;
A warp and weft of fond and found,
Borrowed references and stolen verses.

You recycle the shining heart,
Of another’s penmanship,
Modelling it into a tarnished,
Uninspired and untitled composition
...OF YOUR OWN...

‘I get a lot of big ideas, and occasionally I actually come up with one myself.’
- Bauvard, Some Inspiration for the Overenthusiastic
Bhill Jun 10
Sitting here in total amazement
I am stunned by the beauty of her soul
What is it about her
How could she have stolen my heart

I’m lucky

Brian Hill - 2019#140
Are you lucky?
SMS Jun 9
~
Your lips paused, pursed and plump
Eyes on the road, heart on fire with mine
As I leaned over the armrest
One. Two. Three.
Little soft caresses
And your hand on my knee
~
I gave you
My heart
Now I’m scared
You’ll take it
Run away
And break it
Next page