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Bongani G-kay Sep 19
They say....
Man are trash...
They say...
We broke their hearts
They say...
We do not give them attention....

They say...
But never see their wrongs...
They say....
But they never loved us back as we did
They say...
But we are the one sacrificed alot broken hearts we carry...

They say...
But they never understand...
What damaged they did...
Silent we remained....
Label us with names...
When you didn't give me a chance to love you and you choosed him...

Silent i remained...
As they say
Man are all trash...

Man are trash
Shane Leigh Sep 14
God, I loathe you.
Everything that you represent ...
it ****** me off.
You just lounge,
Not doing a **** thing!
you scream and taunt and -
Oh my ... you just ...
UGH !!
So ugly !!
I really should throw you away.
You make the new couch look bad.
I hope you enjoy. (:
I apologize in advance for my sense of humor lol
Let me specify: I have what was a really pretty pillow BUT it’s old and worn out and my mother likes to keep sewing the edges ... it’s just bad. I’ve really come to hate it. My mother has trouble getting rid of it because it was a gift but I just hate the transformation it’s undertaken lol
© Shane Leigh
Adi N Sep 11
It wakes up to the warmth of the morning rays,
The dew starts evaporating from the grass blades,
when the first joggers and pet dogs make their way.

As the day progresses, it becomes a playground
for young lovers, artists, birds and nature’s sounds,
Kids join the drama after school, and many more *** around.

My park is loaded with innumerable memories everyday
but all that is left is trash and dog poo at the end of the day,
Only to wake up again to the warmth of the sun the next day.
Spriha Kant Sep 1
No regret , no descent of gloomy drop from eyes and no pain in heart for falling for a man dressed in courage.

No shivering in hands for emptying all those love poetries into trash which unknowingly embraced a spineless in the ****.

Flowers of love and trust , though , trampled but I am still a flower who is yet to be wilted !
Thomas W Case Aug 29
We are a
of poets,
the heart's
spread upon the
A collection of
birds and fish,
flowers and trees.
We all whisper
and scream
from the soul.

the world has
turned to collecting
stones and trash,
dead matter that
doesn't say a word.     this is where I perform my poetry.  Or if this doesn't work, search thomaswcase on Tic Tok
E Jul 18
TikTok is pure trash
Except for the girls and gays
All of them are lit
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