Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sara Jones Jan 2016
Well, we had a good run
And alls fun and games until someone falls
But what you dont realize is that you made me fall for you
And thats not the kind of love i wanted for myself

Because if one FALLS one can GET BACK UP
so if I have FALLEN in love with you chances are I'll just STAND back up and keep walking.

So gather your things, my darling
And I'll help you out the door
And the last few words I'll speak to you will be
"I don't love you anymore"

Because I'm done falling and I just wish to stand
I'm kneeling now and they're giving me their hand
They're helping me up instead of bringing me down
And now I'll say goodbye
Because this is the last time you'll see me cry
Akash mazumdar Dec 2015
Today i got some papers written  by you for me,
In reply of my limitless feelings,
Most of the replies are not about the questions i asked ,
Your most of writings about your frustrations & problems from me in vast ,
Every new letter got nothing new to read,
Even when I expressed every phase of me,
In the starting of our relationship,
You accepted all but already putted a limitation,
But i still believed in you ,
& what i got in response that am not loving you through,
With your expectations,
Our conversations depicted a theory,
That i was living in the feel of primitive real love story,
In which a boy& girl loved each other,
From the soul and spent their life together ,
Less calls less communication,
When i asked the reason,
Your response forced me to realise,
I was not there from any corner or in any size,
Bundles of word I wrote & hardly heard any appreciation,
Likewise before me my fellows sensed,
You lost interest in me like the previous guy who caught and banned,
Just because he opted another girl also,
Alongside to support you from head to toe,
When my eyes opened & i understood the circumstances,
I asked you that we're gonna apart,
But **** it was done your side & heart,
Okay on valentines day the breakup it was,
Ink letters freshed up the eighteen months experience again ,
Let's close it until i open my inner locker to get ur maintain
Step away from the window
Or you may get hit and die
From the lead bullets
Of a car passing by

Don't drink city water
It's full of poisonious lead
Don't trust the governor
when he says it won't mess with your head

So he was bullied
One day after school
Drug  into the alley
His funeral was cool

Stopped because your
Left turn signal was out
Beaten and shot
Because there was some doubt

There is no North side
South side , East or west
It's all no man's land
Don't be foolish and second guess
Unpuresoul Dec 2015
If only "sorry" where more than just letters.
ConnectHook Nov 2015
REVELATION: three, seven – the Kingdom of Heaven

The key to unlocking both glory and shame.

Philadelphia knows He’s arriving in newness

inscribing on foreheads His city and name.

(Though it could be on tee shirts or baseball caps, true –

unless someone takes time to decipher the text…

is it Greek? Aramaic? Amharic? What next?)

Don’t be mad – it’s not me but old John who’s to blame.

Of names and on numbers of Savior and Beast

I have lately been pondering, trembling, wondering

mushroom-cloud raptures in mind’s eye a-thundering.

How will we get to that marriage-day feast?

Will my garment be ready or filthy with fall-out?

(The song says His blood will make clean if we call out

in faith for forgiveness, in humble repentance

believing that grace will abolish the sentence.)

You may wish my rhyme to be likewise abolished.

Bear with me. Forgive me, I grant it’s not polished.

I speak what I feel and I write when I’m able;

which brings us to heavenly thoughts gastronomic:

what dishes we’ll meet as we dine at that table-

strict Jewish? Angelic? Or pre-Abrahamic?

Shall they serve us from silver or common ceramic?

Being clay to the potter, an unfinished vessel

I leave all these questions for others to wrestle.

Yet there’s still one more realm I explore in conjecture:

the sounds at that gathering.  Classical?   Rock?

Unending revivalist Christian refrains?

Shall we headbang in heaven with glorified brains?

Psychedelic/Psychotic…? or  Handel and Bach?

(Lighten up. It’s the end of my bible-school lecture.

You’ve seen a few rooms of my castle-in-air,

and we ALL know it’s reggae they’re playing up there…)
more notes:♪♫♫♪
Chiibe-The-Rebel Oct 2015
I know I'm not poetic,
Just typing what jumps out to me.
Its not prophetic,
Its easy you see.

People say its hard to write,
Rhyming all the time.
I defeat that, with a fight,
All you need is to Rhyme.

I'm messed up,
Mix-matched too.
But its not anything like the flu,
Its just me, and thats true.

This is just a poem,
Making the truth shown.
Beautiful and solem,
No need for post-pone.

In the cascading shadows of the moon,
I'll be there holding your hand.
Whether it be morning or noon,
I'll be there for you, My friend.
I wrote this for my friend, Its true.

I find poetry beautiful, I can't explain it. It's like a soft story or musical in the slight rhyme and flowing in the lines.
Chiibe-The-Rebel Oct 2015
Inspiration, Music to my ears,
Don't got any, need some ideas.
What rhymes well, What sounds nice?
If i don't do well, I'll face the plight.

Do or Do not, There is no try,
I listen to this, and sometimes It lets me fly.
Free-fall writing, helps my spirit,
Trap me with demands, It'll lower my merit.

I'm trapped in expectations and greed,
I'm giving you what I can to save me.
My poetic muse, trapped in clues,
God himself, can't remove my blues.

But I still do,
Not try.
If all you do is try,
Means you don't believe...

You can truly succeed.
Wrote this during class, Because in English we are doing poems, ack. Atleast I'm good at it, *shrugs* May The Force Be With You! Because of the Star Wars Reference In The Poem
Next page