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Noah A Baker Mar 2014
A lot of time spent
having miscellaneous conversations with the air.
Even stupid questions like "how's your day" acting as if it'd give an answer, or, even more,
a whisper of inspiration
It's an obligation, or, maybe a delegation, or, a confirmation?
that we will create a masterpiece before insane peace
With a piece of our minds becoming a little less peaceful by the day.
Soon our minds will turn into violent catapults hurling out sentence after sentence making our paper bleed
                                                     Black, Blue, Red, Gray
Joining a cult created by the letters we created ourselves
falling into the abyss these stanzas and paragraphs invite us into
And don't get me wrong, it sounds terrible, but it's home.
There's no place like it.
Where these words are so much more than words,
they're family.
But frequently, we get into arguments that erupt into something sinister
and our desks become littered with papers that wilt and wither into nothing more than liters upon liters
of a type of alcoholic beverage that'll tempt us into becoming outspoken drunkards
But that's the goal:
*to be outspoken.
hm. I need criticism on this, please.
Lua Mar 2014
Please don't try and correct me.
I'm not broken. I'm maybe free-spirited and a little out-spoken but I've got methods that water would even soak in and when you confuse me with that ****** J.R.R. Tolkien just because I'm burning herbs that Gandalf would be smokin', I'm going to brush it off like you're just joking and I'll get back to the life that i'm continuously toking, kick it back like it's all easy stroking, become at one with nature like an invisible cloak and be that dream but still get awoken by the ground as if something is choking me by the hands of some celestial bloke and hence why i feel like evoking some people with words like they are subliminal pokes and hopefully I'll please whatever it is that had me initially provoked then.
I don't know about this one..
Ralph Albors Mar 2014
My heart aches when I remember
The time we spent together
Talking, laughing, smiling, loving.

But time fades memories away
Like an old Polaroid without an owner.
All that's left is pain and torment.

A few tears can bring a whole fortress down,
As long as the pain is directed to the heart,
And nothing is left, but a terrible scar.

I want you, but I don't want you.
Unfinished poem from a while back.

— The End —