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alexa Sep 7
i'm overwhelmed. overworked. under appreciated.

the work of people like her goes unnoticed. she feels as if everyone's under the spell of a lotus. all she wishes is that everyone could focus.

focus on the ups and the downs. the ins and the outs.

the work of people like her goes unnoticed.
i'm both mentally and emotionally drained. i dont know what to do anymore. my head hurts. all i want is to sleep forever.
Nik Bland Jan 24
You are more
Beautiful
More brilliant
Reminiscent of stars
And librarians
With their glasses
Hooked on strings

And yet I am
Here
Wait for you
To notice me
To find me
To love
Something
About me

And you speak to me
And post your
Little
Self deprecating
Harmful
Hurtful
Thoughts
Of how you’re
Unloved and alone

The room
You’ve locked yourself
In
Is shut
Unopened
Do not disturb
With walls lined
In black

But with
The light off
And your hands
Over your
Beautiful
Wide
Tear-filled eyes
You fail
To see me
Wanting to
Love you
rinnette Jan 2016
I am the lion
That leads his pack with pride and honour
Who protects his loved ones

I am the pillar
That supports every building formed upon it
It would never let them fall

I am the buoy
That does its best to save every life
It will pull you away from danger

I am the joker
Who laughs the most under the ridiculous
Who makes sure you stay happy

*I am the cub
Helpless to the wondering hyenas

I am the tiles on the floor
Supporting weights and lifting hearts

I am the anchor
Sinking to the bottom of the sea

I am the broken
Laughters lost, tears overflowing
To the masked.
Because I respect you.
Destinee DeSousa Jan 2015
What would it take to get on that level?
I've done so much.
Been there.
I'd do anything.
And all I want in return is to be thought of,
To be on that level, too.
And to not be taken for granted, ever.
I must say
those of arts
writers and painters
so often trivialized
too often

how ironic then
for those who sweep us under
since we--
of words and lines
however similar or not
--are not the ones at expense.

Where's the magic
neither seen nor experienced
in reality,

and where's the escape
from your homes of present
but from us?
the minds who labor away
without showing
but upon the page, sheet or canvas.

— The End —