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The older I get
The more I regret
Not being 25 anymore

Some look upon their pastimes
With drugs and fine wines
And with memories that they abhor

But some of us feel
As though those times were real
And now reminisce and laugh all the more
A poem about no regrets
Laokos Oct 12
just thinking back
my twenties and cracking
smile for every tree I hollowed
to make room for a new universe.

in my thirties, I laugh at windows
on top of Mercury's head as
           Venus covers her mouth and hides again.
Ceyhun Mahi May 11
The times of existential angst are done,
And so are times of reckless assumptions,
Pretentiousness of insecurities gone,
Along the astray ways, and their seductions.
I have become twenty-two, and my eyes
See differently; no darkness anymore,
They're open wide like rosy morning-skies,
With a steady gaze, brighter than before.
But I don't claim to know it all, no – never,
For I surely know that I do not know,
Seeking meanings with all my heart forever,
Making me human, and making me grow.
    There is much left to see, and learn, and sing,
    I'm curious; let's see what fate will bring.
“Honey, you can’t keep living your life to please people.”
But that’s how I survive.

I won’t be quiet
When I want to scream about injustice.
I won’t hold myself and cry,
I’ll cry in plain sight
And show that what someone said wasn’t okay.

I’ll leave when I want to,
I won’t talk to those who hurt me.
I’ll tell people when they’re rude,
I’ll speak up
When I want to.

But now...
I’m at the mercy of others.
I live to please
Or I don’t get to live.

This is the time of my life
Where I raise my hand
And ask permission.
When I nod politely
At unfairness,
Where my knuckles are clenched white
Behind my back
As I accept whatever treatment I receive.

I do dream of being free,
Make no mistake,
I’m not happy this way.
But this is how I must stay
To survive.
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2019
I thought that daydreaming
Was  allowed always,
That  no age  could
Stop you  from  doing  so,
Far  away,  to lands
With a precious gaze,
Who no one  other  than  yourself
Would know.

There would be  many
Pastel  meadows there,
And  storylines
Of  characters unknown,
Some  ugly,  tragical  or  only  fair,
Who still  all  have  to be
To people  shown.

But  no, it's hard  to think it is allowed; I  should be  serious,
Only  think of the  things
Who're  near,
And  not  be  like  a  cloud,
Always  o­n well-known  earth  –
Not  up above.

Now  I  am  in my
Twenties and reflect,
If  I  should embrace  this,
Or  only  neglect.
This poem is actually a rhyming, iambic and Shakespearean sonnet but I made it look like free verse :p
Eva Aug 2019
Impermanence is tattooed on me

Saturday still tastes like tequila and

all the slow lazy kisses blur between boys

that won’t matter in five years anyway

Half a person and still a girl,

Everyday I think

I’m too young to be this age
Leigh Marie Jan 2019
I’ve been learning what I deserve
Who I deserve
What makes me happy
Who makes me happy
Still sprinkled with self destruction
And holding onto fond memories
I’ve got a ways to go
But my how far I’ve come
Isaac Aug 2018
in only three
days I will be
pushed out of
the category
of being super young
my twenties have begun
I secretly hope
that I won't lose the fun
of life and living
getting and giving
dancing to the tunes
my heart is singing
dreaming dreams
scheming schemes
excitedly studying
captivating themes
hoping big hopes
crossing thin ropes
and climbing over
giant big slopes
as the next lot
of years slot
their way into me
I hope I will not
lose my inner child
by becoming mild
may my heart forever
burn free and wild
Written 17 August 2018
Sal A Jul 2017
I receive an average of 1 text per day.
It's usually a bill payment reminder.
I have no friends.
No, literally, none at all.

I'm on 3 dating websites,
sending 50 messages a day.
Zero replies.

I'm fit. Gym 7 days a week.
Well-groomed and clothed.
I've been called handsome.
None of that matters.

I can explain a
thermodynamic chemical equation to you.
And it'd still be easier than for me
to land a date.

I'm going to settle for a woman when I'm 40.
She'll be in her 30s, desperate to conceive.
We'll have some children but no interest in each other.
And that'll be the end of my romantic life.
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