Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
When I met you I thought my life would change
I thought my life would have meaning
I thought I was becoming a man

When I met you
My life changed
Not the way I expected though

I stopped doing drugs and smoking
I found love and loved it
I found friendship and cherished it
Friendship betrayed me soon after
Love sent me on my way
I became a party animal
And drug addict

When I met you
I thought my life would have meaning,
But my thoughts were deceiving
I was blind to what I was seeing
And lost myself

Tomorrow I'll send you on your way
And there'll be no way to make me stay
I'll never forget you
I'll never regret you
I'll never miss you
Tomorrow my life will change,
But wasn't that how all this started
Just frightened about leaving home and joining the military
There were many, it was illegal to have a pessimistic weekday, a worn out, useless desk and a climbing Sisyphus ticket: Insufficient - mostly - and sufficient. The crossfire of promising grains of pride, and the pathetic judgment of the Inquisitions lurking in the eyes: “Let's see! Who dares to do more and more ?! ” - There was a murderous rage in the hearts of the people,

"What did I know then: What can I expect?" "Destroyed nervous system, suicidal pessimism?" Nice promises or Janus-faced compromises? In which the victim is always his own scapegoat! "In the conscience of the people, they beat a homestead and strangled it with stigma stamps, handing it to you as the title of loser, as an honor in the camp of innocent fools!"

There were many, it was illegal for the pessimistic weekday, many were the self-destructive consciousness of Nothing: that you would stay that way, but only the Apocalypse-bad guys rushed at me every day; miserable, trampled on, destroyed! If I look back, I can still see it as fooling and humiliating the germs of youth in slavery, the reliable cornerstones of spiritual libraries, because “someone” mentioned the word in defense of imaginative and new ideas! And still, I can only guess: Did I get the magic D-letter document in exchange for the omniscient silence of my silence, or just for the awareness of my sooner liberation ?!
estie wari Oct 8
i walked out the cafe with the usual pride in my stride
as a young lady, portraying my vigor.
they knew me for the scornful maiden i was,
for my heart was a cold place.
had i not been desired by the gentlemen since young,
my soul would've probably known better.

but as the breeze outside the diner hit my petite build,
i saw him with his cold brew contrasting the warm weather.
i recognized the university cardigan,
surely must he be brilliant.
what happened that moment,
i remember it all well for an aphant.

now, he strode into the cafe.
my eyes hunted for the sight of his curly hair,
for i couldn't ever get enough.
the curiosity rose in me
as i took a few steps towards the cafe.

then i knew, i wasn't that cold afterall.
for now; i yearned for his slight fingers locking into mine.
i needed the brown eyes gazing into mine.
i wanted the soft lips pecking onto mine.
or maybe;
just lay on his chest in his university sweatshirt.
Jessica Sep 17
I'm not leaving home.
Not yet.
most of my friends are
But I'm not.
And I feel at a disadvantage.
Like im too reliant on home.
On my family. Its no fault
Of my own that I'm not leaving home,
I would be wasting money in an apartment
When I'm only for a couple hours a week.
Cheaper to travel.

I feel like im doing it wrong,
Right now I should be travelling,
to my new home, with new people.
But I'm not, I'm going to be lonely
This year, just like the others.
Unable to connect, stressed and
Just a mess of an outsider.

I want my independence,
But its not worth the current
Expense. Stuck in the same 4walls,
With the same close family.

God if I last a month without losing my mind,
I might be fine, or not.

I just want to be my own person,
But I'm stifled for now.
Forgotten and just lost
In my home.
C Jul 14
Coming up
Reminds me of
Waiting for the high to hit
Never enough
Never as good
As last time.
The new discovery
An addiction
To new discoveries.
Never satisfied
In that
Maria Mitea Jun 7
We met on a University hill,
when eyesight
for sky's eminence,
and you served your
spirit of excellence.

Wearing jeans and turtle-top,
upraised head and safe high heels,
fairy dreams and wishful hearts,
venturing the odd.

I remember one night
you thought me
how to drink beer
on a Unversity hill, later
it was hard to walk
and the golden watch fell
on the ground
"There is nothing to be found
in a bottle of beer my dear"
I wanted to die,
on a University hill,
I did.

Wake up in hell,
with my mouth and tongue
hanging on a toilet roll,
embarrassed guts by the
scratched golden watch
telling that I have  
a geometry class
on a University hill
and the great professor
was waiting for me
venturing into bizarre
geometry ...
Ryan May 17
School's coming to an end,
and it's GCSE's,
using all my expertise gained through-out the school years,
It could all end in tears.
Teachers say it's a big deal,
that's what they convey,
it is for them, anyway.

The last few weeks of term and you hand in your coursework,
that was fine, I wish I could shirk the exams,
not very good at revising,
but our teachers are advising us to watch GCSE Bitesize,
but it doesn't really cover what we've learned,
which is a bit of a concern.

We all cram into the exam hall,
it's a bit last minute,
but I'm trying to recall my revision notes.

An Inspector Calls by J.B Priestley,
something's stirring,
Arthur Birling,
a public scandal is too much to handle,
Eva Smith,
Eric and Gerald both had affairs,
but the latter actually cared.
That's a start, I guess.

The exam invigilator sets the clocks,
and permits one hour and forty-five minutes.
The Science exams are multiple-choice,
Biology is fine, but Physics and Chemistry haunt me.

Geography next,
tectonic plates,
and the traits of EDC's,
as well as Less Economically Developed Countries.

That's all over,
we await our mark,
the best part is still to come,
everyone meeting down the park,
and that too me is the abiding memory of my school days,
one last time we're all together in glorious weather,
before going our separate ways.
A beginner who is looking for some constructive feedback.
Mansi Apr 16
I graduated from
university today

I want to thank my parents,
My friends, and everyone else
Who helped me to get here

But most of all I want to thank
My past selves for not giving up
Despite everything

This achievement is dedicated
to the
10 year old who continued on
Despite not knowing what tomorrow looked like
To the
16 year old who lost sleep thinking
About the future
And what it holds

By God's grace
We made it!
I'm sure one day
I'll be thanking
my 22 year old self
As well!
I can't believe I'm done! I wrote this poem 2 months ago when things didn't seem this severe. So now it feels anti climatic due to COVID but regardless I'm happy I'm done. I have no idea what future is going to bring but I'm sure it will be okay, eventually.
I pray this pupil’s prayer,
penitent for desiring
an end to this madness
of clearing away snow,
only to find more, compact,
beneath the loose surface
      No two snowflakes alike
each snowflake falls with grace
absorbed by tuition fees,
books, books, books!
O the books pour down
clusters of refurbished
cognitive technicalities
      Each unique in its crystal formation
drench my shoes to full with repositories
of Professor gods’ wounded knees and sore egos
do I leggo my Eggo
to feast on academia’s wine
glut on the ambrosia of fine whine?
      What privilege to live in Snowflakia
the snowbanks are too high, Sir!
-still I climb, seeking purchase-
It takes too much time!
-yet I wade through the drifts-
of alabastards’ Judas kiss
       A Snowflake ingrate nation
in turn taken for madness
I cannot find a flick
to fling away wet sopping masses
of absence from classes
brain drain juices taste like molasses
I revile the texture of their pasty *****...
       You haven’t a chance in Hell-
-Ye Gods! Mea Culpa!
I am sorry, O Ponderous Purveyors,
for my blasphemous prayers
I will see the glass is
full of wine not molasses,
I will be a good snowflake and fall
into my pre-planned place
       Your liquid body will purify the well
I want to fall with grace
so I may rise without disgrace.
There is a rush to throwing yourself into a wave.
A certain giddiness or
a daring hope,
that this time
you will make it to the other side.
Head high and anxiety low,
Able to reassure yourself that
Yes, you can do it.

It is such a rush
that when the ocean breaks on your head,
you know that underwater is temporary,
And bearable.
So here you go.
Set your eyes on that wave,
tell yourself,
this time I will do it.
I will never know
If I don’t try after all.

So what if I have been here,
been trying, for years?
The water laps at my neck, as I cough.
I have been at sea for so long,
my muscles ache, heart most of all.
I keep trying, though
My lips are blue,
glabrous flesh has wrinkled,
And I can hardly see
for all the salt in my eyes.
I can’t tell.

Though I crave to rest,
The sea does not care.
Each attempt leeching heat,
and locks growing green as kelp.
I fear that should I rest now,
I would never see shore again.
But rather,
find my new bed is one of the sea,
Where I could sleep,
undisturbed by the crashes above,
and never drown.
Being neurodivergent in university is a heck of a time.
Next page