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dead poet Dec 2024
pulverized by desolate winds;
brutalized by ungodly kings;
capsized by the violent waves;
neutralized by the scorpion’s sting.

terrorized by the thoughts of morrow;
legitimized by a trademark of sorrow;
authorized to live in vain;
generalized - like the streets,
and the boroughs.

synthesized by the alchemy of remorses;
romanticized… like the dark horses;
mesmerized by the notion of vengeance -
hypnotized by even darker curses.

digitized by the ways of future;
mystified by metrics, and conjectures;
specialized in the pursuit of reality -
'civilized' by the grand architecture.
Todd Sommerville Dec 2024
Giving up feels worse than dying.
But giving in,
Is falling, it's hurting, and crying,
at least you're trying.

Right?
At least you're trying?

Giving up feels worse than dying.
But this time,
Giving up is surviving.

Not growing, not living,
not thriving, just surviving.

Today I'm surviving.

I'm not giving in, not falling,
I'm hurting yes, and crying too.

Because today I had to give up.
Today, I gave up on you.

Giving up,
It feels like dying.

But I'll Survive.
Todd Sommerville Dec 2024
She bowed before him and he struck her,
so she kneeled.
She kneeled before him and he kicked her,
so she lay.
She laid before him and he ***** her,
so she cried.
She cried before him so he cursed her,
and walked away.

But this was not the end,
it happened time and time again,
until one day she found the strength to rise.

She Rose from the floor,
crying and quaking,
She rose from the floor,
hurt and aching.
She rose from the floor,
scared and alone.

Alone but alive,
today she survived,
and tomorrow she will survive again.

And every day she survives,
every day that she's alive,

Is another day the monster didn't win.
May we learn to tread lightly on older and newer paths in our personal lives that lead onwards and upwards into the continuing
restoration of our inner worlds rising like Main Sequence suns to aid in replacing that which was lost in an ever-darkening world.

©2024 Daniel Irwin Tucker
NOTES:
Start or keep on
shining into the darkness of this
world through your own
individual element, regardless of the
size of the bulb or its wattage.
anthony cantrell Dec 2024
The only reward you get for your resilience
Is more tests of your mettle
Everyone you care about will lean on you
Because you can take it
Can't you?
You are bleeding out
Every deed done
Another cut
More blood spilled
You can save everyone
Except for yourself
It's a fitting death
Drowning in a pool of your own blood
Every loved one is another blade
Stained in crimson
Sara Barrett Dec 2024
"You made it look easy," they whisper—
A phrase that echoes, hollow and sharp,
Cutting through the quiet of my solitary journey.

Navigating parenthood alone,
A military spouse stretched thin by distance,
Selling dreams as fragile as glass,
Balanced on the edge of every choice.

A diagnosis presses against my chest,
One child in my arms, another learning beside me.
Battles hidden behind closed doors,
Invisible to those who see only the surface.

When I bared the depths of my soul,
Resilience bloomed like wildflowers—
Not a cry, but a roar.

Judgments swirl around me—
A storm of misconceptions,
Echoes of untold stories etching my truth.

Others glimpse my path only when they walk similar roads,
Their perceptions shifting like sand,
Revealing the landscape of unseen struggles.

My journey is not a blueprint,
Nor a promise of simplicity.
Each step a singular rhythm,
Each challenge a raw, unscripted melody.

I didn't make it look easy;
I made it look possible.

Resilience is not a performance,
But a quiet, fierce rebellion.

No shortcuts, no easy roads—
Just forward motion,
Carved from determination,
Etched with survival's raw grace.
This poem gives voice to the unseen struggles that accompany strength. It challenges the idea that resilience is effortless, peeling back the layers of solo journeys, hidden battles, and quiet determination. With striking imagery and a steady rhythm, it speaks to the reality of carrying on—not to make it look easy, but to make it possible. It's a reflection on survival, perseverance, and the unspoken grace of moving forward despite it all.
Flea Dec 2024
Dear 14 year old me
You were a strong and still strong
Human being
Who still has integrity
In her heart
The way I see
You had to
Hide you dreams
For survival and I don’t blame you on that
It would have been a horrific
Fate if you were still
Like a peacock 🦚
But not you can show your feathers
In a safe place
You don’t have to fear torture
If you want you can do 50 pull up if you want
Now show your brilliance and shine
Nigdaw Dec 2024
the night is darkest
before the dawn
but I can still see
the breath
expelled from my lungs
Zelda Dec 2024
Fascinating,
adapting to survive in nutrient-poor soil,
By any means necessary,
even if the method seems harsh—
it's natural, it's inevitable.

Consuming over-populated insects,
masquerading as "butterflies," unapologetic—
careless minds, thoughtless words,
misusing your name,
feeling foolish, wilting,
self-dissolving.

It wasn’t your fault.
Some plants need different pots to grow—
deeper roots, stronger hands.
Do you see it now?
It was only survival.
I’ve got you now.

A marvel of evolution,
you grew in unique and creative ways.
Many won’t appreciate you,
but I do.
I’ve got you now.

They were never butterflies—
only illusionists,
fooling you, using you.

Venus – goddess,
Fly – rise high, embrace your
Trap – not you, never you,
not by their hands.

I’ve got you.
I've got you now.
Venus, Fly, Trap.

I got you

Venus Flytrap
Dec 7 2024
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
I have endured through the shadows of despair,
chronicling the haunting spectre of suicide,
Each word a desperate attempt to vanquish
her insidious thoughts, that creep back into
my mind.

As long as I draw breath - I live to write,
and write more so, to stay alive.
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