Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tom 2d
There is but one thing,
That all humans fear,

Yet nothing we do,
Slows dreaded advance.  

Yes, death is the end,
No comfort in that,

But life is therefore,
More precious, more pure.

For us that will die,
Are luckier still,

Infinite lives lost,
Never to be lived.

That we do exist,
Is reward enough,

And better is now,
Than all time before.

Our time here will soon,
Come to darkest end,

And yet before then,
Life still has its time.
Nicole Sep 27
Maybe I'm just bad at beginnings

Or even moreso terrible at endings

The only thing viable is to stop seeing

The change as doors to other realms

And see the shift in my soul

As opening windows to

The parts of me yet unknown.
Thomas C Sep 14
Wandering through the days, searching for our fulfillment.
Upon the day we find the object that has no limits.
To describe the object would require the observer to see it’s entire life. Yet the object does not discriminate and absorbs time.
Slowly it fades from reality.
Until the memory confuses fantasy for reality.
Emily Sep 11
Get ready for the worst
It's almost at the end
I feel it coming closer
Every now and then
I wonder what will happen
What would it be like
When it is upon us
What will happen at the worst?
Sadness is the worst part
It is very difficult
To find a place to sleep
I laid down all my sorrows
So I could try to rest.
Calmness is impossible
Quiet is not a thing
Lying is quite real.
This is not a joke.
Get ready for the worst.

-3nwlry
You can kinda read it backwards too...
Kinda
TD Sep 9
There's a genius waiting in the wings,
but I have yet to discover him.
Once I've ventured
beyond my perch
I may by chance meet his form
and claim him for my own.
As of yet...
I'm leaning towards precarious.
Irene J Sep 8
You reminded me of a dream
that I failed to reach.

Even though I dream all the way
to the moon,
at least I fell amongst the brightest
star.

At least I didn't fall into your black hole,
that eats me alive,
and lives inside space of time,
left waiting for the unknown.
An old poem I wrote 12 weeks ago.
I sprung at the pinnacle
Unwriting my chronicle
With love non-reciprocal
I shall start anew
I laid bare in muddle hub
With beasts of animal club
I'm stuck at the stub
And solitude brew
And so I continue to clear my notebooks of stuff that seems more-or-less cohesive enough to share here.
DivineDao Sep 7
Human
Nature
...

When people on the Streets, Night Clubs, Bars
...
Start To Wink at You, Bow, Gesticulate, Nod,
Laugh, Smirk, Caress Their Heads,
Form
Different "mudras"
With Their Fingers
....
Instead of just Saying what's on Their Minds

After mutually exchanged hellos

.... Perhaps being wrapped up into Some Seriously Fabulous Conversation
Wouldn't be Wrong At All


Yet out of sheer Politeness
Or Embarassement
Or because They are too
Well brought up
Bring it on - BabyBonton
Rules
Etc.

They remain Silent!


P. S. ~When Recognised As That Poetess
People and their weird ways
and
At the same time cute nature.
Hannah Aug 29
As a writer
You are assumed to be
Good with words
Yet I spend a vast portion of time
Saying exactly the wrong thing
Or biting my tongue altogether
I hope to tell you one day
What you mean to me
Instead of just writing it out
In the pages in my mind
Next page