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Angel M Apr 2018
It’s hard to imagine that fate
Would bring us back together
To leave me with only the memory
Of your touch, Your kisses,Your embrace

The timing may have been flawed
For our love to truly began
But, hopefully the stars will align
And our paths will cross again

My heartbeat will be like a beacon
Signaling like an alarm
Who’s sole purpose is to one day
Lead you Back into my arms

Until then....
This poem is in hope that one day things will be different and I can have my love. But for now we need to be apart.
xaiv vos Mar 2018
I was a welcome mat for your muddy and blistered feet
an open entrance for your troubled mind
a shelter for your shattered heart on nights where the silence became too loud

but soon, you took your refuge for granted,
my view of you over time became slanted
your ***** dishes in the sink were quicker to clean than being able to see what you were doing to me

a friendship that once felt like home became broken
and I became a pit stop that was conveniently placed on your
daily route
and you only paid in self-doubts

you were a wounded traveler that could never give, but could always take
and always left the next morning with pieces of my own sanity
I needed to lock my doors before I ended up losing everything
Silverflame Oct 2016
You make me feel so miserable.
But I can’t blame you for these feelings.
Because you don’t know about them.
You don’t even know I love you.

My light and will power is fading away.
Because she stole your heart without struggle.
A chosen one has claimed you.
And that chosen one is not me.

Giving you up is what I should do.
It’s hard, but you will never know.
Still I want to thank you, for being you.
Thank you for making me feel alive.
The riddled mind,
Speaks only in twists,
Hoping that way, to conceal,
The truthfully intended wits,

Hiding behind a glass door,
Thinking no one can see,
Only a foolish mind,
Would run from the ones who seek

for you to unleash your heart,
It will be a mistake you wish you made.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
Do you only touch in anger?
Do you have the habit of hugging your kid?
Or do you prefer not to
Just like the parents of criminals did?
Do you think hugging
Will make your child turn out to be soft?
With nobody home to turn to
Would your child then be better off?

Does your son or daughter
Go without being touched in love for years?
Is the only emotion allowed
Obedience and silence, never any tears?
Does your perfect child idea
Amount to something like a stuffed toy?
Does your list not involve
Things that are normal for a girl or boy?

Is everything else important,
But not the issue of your child’s happiness?
When your child asks questions
Do you treat it as just smart-mouthedness?
If your child questions bad ideas
Do you take that as a personal attack?
Do you find yourself thinking,
And saying, you want your freedom back?

If any of the above is true
You are not being a loving kind of parent.
If your child’s image of you
Is of an angry person given to swearing
And calling them names
That should be reserved for enemy,
Then wake up and realize
That’s not the right behavior to use on family.
l i z a Oct 2015
can you blame me

for tryna get you to open up more?

I’ve allowed myself to become vulnerable 

now I don’t know what for?

when you’re unavailable 

am I still yours?
Lynn Greyling Dec 2014
Will you forever stay
A man of dreams?

You can never be
Included into my reality.
For one does not induce
The fall of preciousness.

Even when you are
In my gaze all day,
Even when I imagine
Your hand upon
The small of my back,
Or your eyes laughing
Into mine exuberantly.

You are painfully
None of this.

When you occupy
My state of mind
And alter my thoughts
Into wayward longings,
I cannot reach across
To establish your warmth
Into my memory.

I will pretend that no imagining
And no affinity binds me
Inexplicably and unquestionably
To your loveliness!
Fred Schrott Aug 2014
It is nestled deep inside the fertile
Shenandoah Valley.
There is a river that runs amok
like a rabid, winded wildcat in
the shadows of temptation.
And then there’s a back-country
woman that just won’t leave my
hesitated mind.
Taking time
to worry all about her,
risking heartache
to forever go
without her—
it seems like such an unfair penance,
like the result of prison’s popular
undeserved sentences.
Getting by without a proper windshield,
it’s starting to look as if my drummer
really is too far off the mark.
Wishes to again cross that princess on
that old and dusty road.
In the end it’s a crime that, quite
simply, has no motive.
And I’m paying my sentence daily for
being a prince—and not the most
handsome toad in the land.
From, "The Transitive Nightfall Of Diamonds" - available at Amazon, BarnesandNoble, iUniverse and Google ebooks - @badboypoet

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