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Isabelle Apr 2016
She was not happy
Her soul slides away
Wandering in the alley
Body, mind and heart at fray

She was lost
in thoughts and words
fingers crossed
silently praying to the lords

She was cursed
emotions wanted to burst
couldn't anymore hide the pain
so she cried a river and didn't strain

Her sobs were a sad song
in the alley wailing for so long
But nobody cares
and nobody dares,
to ask her how is she
to save her from misery

The world is apathetic
and some are sympathetic
but help was never offered
so alone she suffered

The light in her eyes were gone
Her soul slides away
In this awful place she was done
wrapped her neck with a cord and play
Erin Mar 2016
Let me hold your heart within my hands
I crave every inch of ******, beating, scarred and wounded
I want this beautiful instrument of life, to sing it's sweet melancholy melody
To convey how cruel this life can be
I will absorb your painful memories, let you feel freedom which may taste bitter at first
So unload your hurt, I cannot take it from you
But promise to stand by your side, until you do
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Please excuse me for my days of doubt
On these days I have to write it out

Otherwise these feelings stay inside
Get down in my soul and hide

Then eat away all my will
In this these feelings are very skilled

The foster thoughts of death and release
They are definitely a cunning thief

But when I write on these days, they are not sympathy
It's just to get out all the intensity
Sympathy for the devil
A phrase we all know
It means to be understanding
Of a man who cant tell

Who cant tell the difference
Between what is good and bad
Who cant desipher the code
And so they live bottled up and sad

It means to take righteous
And stuff it in a box
For its not strong enough,
Barely a bull, or an ox

We need something more
A tank would suffice
A super charged righteous
And even still...on thin ice

It takes a great man
To stand up and say
"Im just as bad as you"
The irony is plain...

How could a man with such talent...
For good...
be brought to lesser
By the very words he brewed

Sadly it is so
That great evil be marked
As the final word in all the world
When it was the good that provided the start

The start to say "sorry"
"I admit i did wrong
It is my fault too"
As they sing that apology song

Then the darkness takes over
The advantage clearly sought
They know of bad charecter,
Except their own-they know not

The devil replies with a smirk
And always strolls on
Steam rolling the righteous
The tank is now gone

My point is just this...
Please apretiate the man
Who can apear before great evil
And say "i will take a stand"

For this he is wise
And couragous as well
He knows he's not perfect
Which is what makes a perfect angel
Be righteous more than anything, u will get steamrolled, trampled, used, and abused, but all that will happen anyway, its better in the end to say "i would have done the same" and with a proud understanding, be set free of emotional obligation for revenge, anger, frustraition, or any other emotion that would harm your mental tranquility, it feels better...i learned this lesson...long ago
Àŧùl Feb 2016
If you lost your feelings to the world's ways,
Then surely I don't look for your sympathy,
But there are few who understand,
I do look for their empathy,
And their kind words of advice.
A small poem for those who only have indifference running in their wayward veins.

Got my right side floating ribs fractured. Now I face difficulty in breathing, coughing, sneezing or blowing my nose clear.

My HP Poem #1025
©Atul Kaushal
svdgrl Feb 2016
When honesty feels like your organs are exposed-
blood is slipping out numbed wounds and it's embarrassing,
then maybe at that point, it's not just honesty.
Maybe it's a blatant self-sacrifice, like a look-at-me
look-at-my-love-for you confession,
or even an I-can-rip-my-own-skin-off-
and-show-you-what's-inside plea.
Believe you me.
You'll be a Prometheus punished daily
by reiterating the truth over and over,
only to grow a new skin overnight,
before you ever lie again.
And that honest self-sacrifice should not
be for someone unworthy.
It's a truth meant to be seen by someone
with merit.
Who wouldn't take your exposure
place it over the fire for far too short a time,
and complain while they eat it up.
The right people are hard to come by-
because real honesty is barely clean,
and rarely meant to be eaten raw.
Self-sacrifice isn't light,
isn't always healthy,
and may leave you with a sick stomach.
But if the right person sees it,
they'll stitch you back up,
drink only your tears until
you have empty eyes,
and hold you and your secrets in,
like the sweetest child they could ever love.
Stop ripping yourself open
to people who can't deal with blood,
especially yours.
I am in so much pain that I can hardly see
But I don't want your sympathy
A poster of an abused to be
Just sing me a lullaby song
To distract me from all the things gone wrong
I just wanna curl into a little ball
To make the wind not as sharp from the fall

I don't want your sympathy
The only times you would look at me
The only way I would cry in pain
Was from the looks of those of shame
But I don't want your sympathy
Take it away or don't look at me
Abdullah Ayyash Jan 2016
It's a mountain
Huge rock
Life obstacle
When you see me

It's a challenge
Promising future
Beautiful glory
From my side

I am a soul
Lovely smile
Determent hope
Not a tear drop

I am feelings
Pure spirit
Nested dreams
Not a sympathy

Send me your heart
Don't walk me through
Don't hold me back
Love knows its way
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
January 25th, 2016
JR Rhine Jan 2016
When bed is a tomb,
and blankets are bricks,
and sunlight will burn,
but darkness won't fix
the absence of bloom.

My stomach does churn,
wide awake and still
eyes seeking a friend
to aid gaps and till--
Spores fraid to be ferns.

My aid apprehends--
His footsteps like breath--
The spirits who haunt,
puffing out his chest,
blows a mighty gale.

I had lain there fraught,
eyes shut in great fear,
til torments abate
and my hero near'd--
wreathed in my detente.

His walk, a great gait!
Air of triumph coasts.
A great quadruped,
eyes queerly his host,
I must stare and wait.

His hair, toe to head,
Ubiquitous coat!
Fur shines with a gleam,
his body the moat--
curls to my cold dread.

His presence, serene!
Utters not a word.
Cast demons repel
back into cold earth--
My mind is wiped clean.

And so it befell:

Silence of great sympathies.
Dogs can teach us how silence can be our greatest of sympathies.
Somebody Calls
And it remains to see
If i know them, good or bad
Or if i can believe...

Somebody Calls
And i can almost know the voice
I could recognize it in my dreams
But only a subconscious choice...

Somebody Calls
And the gears can start to turn
The beautiful voice of an angel boasts
Of  tales where hero's burn

The voice turns dark
Its known to me now
As an angel of death
I can recognize the sound

An angel calls
And shows me a light
A light i would rather live without
A light as dark as night

An angel calls
And i want to run away
But the fear that swells within my heart
Cannot for certain say...

That i am not insane
i have fallen behind in my poetry, but my vision has returned, you will be hearing from me
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