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I, you, they
People of demeanour
They are not artists;
Yet they painted me black

We, us, ours
People of expression
Not the way they said;
Yet, they misunderstood our character

Now, then, and again
People of intellect
They understood my personality;
Thus, they knew me beyond my flaws

Understanding, the highest level of prowess
Power to make sense out of no-sense
But even more, the ultimate secret of coexistence
If only we understood ourselves a bit more.
Ever told someone is bad but on getting closer you found their sweet part? This poem is about how understanding someone can make the difference.
Juno 3d
And so my sweet lullaby’s
Hold my hand there
Pull me along these treacherous roads
Hold me tight
Through the darkness
And keep me going
You always have
I need you now
You are- always- forever
I rely on you
You could not let me down
Not like everyone else has
You wait with me
Through the horrible times
Not trying to pretend it fine
But understanding
Being there
And with that I am eternally grateful
Then when I am ready
you guide me gently -back to the light

-JJ
13/05/25
Kushal 5d
What do I do to find peace
What do I watch to find joy
Where do I go to escape
The minutia of the toil.

I’m tired of every decision,
And feeling like none of them take me where I wish to find myself.
I don’t want control…
It’s not as if I ever had it.
I just want peace
And quiet.

I’ve lost the will to go on.
I don’t even care to end it.
Guess I’ll suffer eternity…
An eternity only man perceive.
**** it all. Just... **** everything. The world is ******...I'd never chose to live here if I had a choice.
Raven Kuhn May 20
For the first time,
I hold
and
I see you.
Originally a blackout poem.
Viktoriia May 20
you know you're touch starved
when you start having dreams
of hugging someone
and of being hugged.

i have one at least once a week.
Dency May 19
Never try to understand everything,
Some things are stars,
Meant only to be watched
From the safety of wonder.

Some silences are whole poems,
Too fragile to carry with words
Some people are seosons
You don't ask them to stay,
You only learn to bloom
After they have gone.

There are moments folded in shadows,
Where time forgets to ask for reason
And in that quiet,
We find the space to breathe
Without the weight of knowing.

And so I let the questions rest,
Like leaves released to the wind
Knowing some truths
Are meant to live quietly,
Beyond the reach of my grasp.
Its a gentle meditation on accepting life mysteries.
Kshamata T May 17
As a child, I never understood the need for basic necessities. Strangely, even as a teenager, that understanding never came.

Then one morning, everything changed—not because I craved a luxurious lifestyle. I never asked for that.
Growing up, I always watched my mom earn every penny. So naturally, I started walking in her footsteps. But now, I find myself on the other side of the table. I’m the one in need.

When you've always earned everything, asking for help feels harder than working endlessly. And now—I’m supposed to ask.
The picture I had of myself at 16 never included asking for the bare minimum.

And yet, here I am, staring at myself at my worst. Seeking help. Trying to understand the blurred lines between the bare minimum, basic needs, and luxury.

Back then, talking about everyday chores was part of small talk. Now, finding someone willing to have that conversation feels impossible.
I never knew growing up would mean lowering my standards—in food, shelter, clothing... even companionship.

Being the elder daughter has always meant one thing: earn everything, ask for nothing.

The strange part? Earning is still easier.
New to the world of writing!
Trying to improve the journey ...
Kalliope May 16
2v8
You and your romantic ways, your countless list of reasons, your lovely lilac haze
Shadowed only by your fears there's not a universe where I stay.

Battled me.

And all my disarray
The timing and the distance, my thoughts that force resistance.
My lack of patience sure put up a fight, and mix her with my temper and we'll be here all night.
My fear, always ready to run, pulling me back behind the wall I built, away from the warmth of your sun.
If we matched our armor, and coordinated our attack
Perhaps we could've been on the same side, instead of bleeding back to back


I know you hate that game mode
But I thought the chances were better
January May 13
Dear books,
I love the feeling I get when the series of sentences you hold make me feel understood in the perfect manner.
To be honest, I sometimes envy that those words didn't come out of me
but mostly?
I love you for carrying what I failed or never even tried to bring out of my mind.
I hope you realise your importance and how much you mean and how it brings comfort to me especially at times when I feel low, you're always there.
I'm sorry you have to wait on a coffee stain sometimes or even untouched under heavier books
but mostly I love you for always being there.
Love,
January
Nat Lipstadt May 6
how odd, how rare. eyes connect,
and the irrelevant falls away, so,
to the end of the beginning we go,
how odd, how rare, she tired of
players, gamers, inevitable disappointment,
so she assays his
approach, snd speaks first:

What are you after?

no hesitation no guising, no uncertainty, he states with surety,
product of grace added to sadness of series of serious accumulations of
disappointment,

"A shared understanding..."

Equals in their shocked surprise,
both stare, hard, then harder,
examining faces and rising heat,
suppressing the intriguing intensity,
imagining outcomes, not endings,
futures, not casualties, and the
assessing silence, not uncomforting,

indeed, the silence soothes, the
attraction stirring and they answer
the overhanging questioning answered simultaneously, with a
yes, a simple supposition, an agreed upon proposition, a mutuality
calming, and the ending of a
shared understanding...and the beginning of a who knows untold
possibilities
may 5/25
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