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Written word used to be an
extension of my mind; my
       thoughts imprinted onto paper
   in neatly formed sentences.

but now                              
they are jagged
uneven.                    
         tired.
                      torn.
malformed.                    ­            
                               incomprehensible.

I can't seem to put the words
together into sentences that  
have meaning.                      

The razor edge of my words
cut me, bleed my body dry
until there's nothing left    
but dust.
I'm tired....
Pseudonymous S Aug 2020
sometimes
i lay in bed
and
wonder

is this all that life is?

or is there some grandeur
some mystery purpose

that i'm too dumb to understand
Vranda Punjabi Aug 2020
People with the tired souls,
Are the most beautiful ones
to be with!
Even though they're totally empty,
All they do is "GIVE"!

They Give their smiles,
even though they're smileless!
They give their support,
even though they're supportless!

They are the ones,
who are in search of hope to live!
Everyday they sleep tried, thinking,
" why do I have to live ? "

Despite of no dreams and aspirations,
They still inspire others around!
They are filled with negativity within,
But always choose to spread happiness around !

These souls are always near us,
& are really difficult to identify!
Because they are the smarty ones,
Who can hide anything behind THEIR smiles!
Dear Readers,

The great singer Mukesh sir wisely sang the beautiful song written by
The great lyricist Shailendra sir,

"किसी की मुस्कुराहटों पे हो निसार
किसीका दर्द मिल सके तो ले उधार
किसीके वास्ते हो तेरे दिल में प्यार
जीना इसी का नाम है| "

This song inspired me to write a free verse
for all the lovely souls out there ! Who are tired but still have a smile that can heal others!

इसलिये ,ऐसी अद्भुत आत्माओं के लिए यह प्यारा वाक्य!,

"रिश्ता दिल से दिल के ऐतबार का
ज़िन्दा है आप सब से नाम प्यार का|🤗"

I hope yo guys like my next poem "Tired souls!"

#lotsoflove! <3
#dedicated ❤️❤️❤️
Kaylee Aug 2020
I’m tired
I’m tired of you
I’m tired of me
I’m tired of waking up every day, of this persistent exhaustion that never leaves
I’m tired of telling you I’m simply tired when what I really mean is that I’m tired of being alive.
Tired of living in this foreign body in this broken world
But you wouldn’t understand
So I’ll just say I’m tired
pea Aug 2020
you take flight
high, in the sky,
above the clouds
toward the sun

the wings I wear
are broken, damaged,
weighed with despair

i search for the sun
but it’s only in vain
human adventures
with expiration dates

you took my hand
i felt finally free
when you let go,
i fell to the sea
not a fan of this title lol!
i hope everyone is doing well during these times
Kaumal Borah Aug 2020
It feels as I if
She is
is stabbed
By a
Knife from inside
That breaks
Her soul
Into pieces
Like a glass
Maybe
It's the taunts
Or the praises
Or the fear of being
Losing oneself
Too much
She
Was
Burried in
Thoughts of  
Pain
Maybe of
Failure
Or
Of disgrace
It's just making
Her a puppet
Devoid
Of the control
Of herself
A soul
Shattered
Drastically
In the hands
Strange
Of circumstances .
Today I am feeling as if everything someone is telling is hurting me so much...some people are so sweet but a backstabber ... sometimes it just not feels alright to be treated like this....it literally breaks us down.. something it feels that I m losing myself in this journey....maybe I m tired of getting failures or
I m too scared to overcome another one to face people everything...it's just enough sometimes...I just wanted to share my feeling with u dear poets..

Thanks you for reading.
kier Aug 2020
the space in this skull is claustrophobic
the words of this mouth are clumsy in movement
with every willingness for a silence of a thousand centuries
my brain is growing exhausted of me
Isaac Spencer Aug 2020
There's a pit-
      In my soul,
We'll find what might fit,
     Well, that's the goal,
A pound of Grade-A marijuana?
A lil' *****, yes I wanna',
A couple pills for the thrills,
Needles sure give me chills,
I'll try anything for the thrill!
...
But there's still a pit.

Plus, there's a hole-
     In my heart,
What'll make it full?
     Here's the art:
Driving sixty-nine in a thirty-five,
Punching the first person acting snide,
I'll eat my words till I burst,
Drink poison friendships; I feel worse,
And forget this vile, no good, gods-****** curse!
...
But there's still a hole.

And there's an ache,
     In my dome,
Keeping me awake,
     Yet I can't seem to leave it alone,
There's something busted in my head,
I bet I could fix it with some lead,
Or a sharp-as-sin knife,
Oh how Hell hath such tiring strife,
Oh don't, don't, don't, don't tell my wife!
...
But there's still an ache.
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