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Survived May 2022
I have to make them proud
but I don't know where i doubt
They make sacrifices for me
but all I do is to let them down
I always endeavour not to hurt them
but it's me because of whom they cry.

Maybe I am cursed to make their life miserable
Maybe I am a loser who is destined to fail forever
Maybe I should stop giving them hope
Maybe I should move out from their lives

I'm hopeless, I'm empty, I'm broke, I am faithless, I'm vain, I'm a failure.

Just for once i wanted to hear them saying that they feel proud because of me but maybe I'm their doomed son and just like me my dreams will also be in vain...
MsRobota Jun 2020
Why does it seem like
people go from "Lost in life"
to "Too late to start"
Vitu Apr 2020
A vision or illusion, messing around with reality
Do you sleep for dreams...or nightmares?
Everything could be a dream or a nightmare
Sometimes wishing to have a reality in fiction
The point here, is that, facing reality
Surprises excite people or either horrify others
For some people, playing around with someone's heart
Is not a video game, it's reality
They don't have extra lives to replace their current one
A heart is like a plate
Shattered, unable to put the perfect pieces together
Feeling empty and numb is just how life works
No one is perfect in such a cruel but beautiful world
In life, you just have to let yourself down,
just to succeed
Life is not always successful
pk tunuri Aug 2018
When Successful people, On stage
Tell that their secret of success is "Luck!"

Then unsuccessful people, Backstage
Yell at their own fate, "****!"
Hanna Kelley Feb 2018
I don't talk about my problems because I don't want my problems to become yours.
I don't want you to adopt my destructive habits and thoughts. The way I avoid questions and disguise bad situations.
I don't talk about the things I have had to experience, not because I don't want you to know those things about me, but because I know that they will change you. In some way. Maybe they will change the way you see me, the way you treat me, or maybe even the way you see the rest of the world and yourself.
I don't want to tell you every detail about my relations with men because I don't want you to fear them as well.
I don't want to tell you about the harassment and torture I endured throughout the years because I don't want to reveal the things that hurt me.
I don't want to tell you about my eating disorders and the way I think because I don't want to give you an instruction manual on ******* yourself.

I avoid becoming too personal with people because it makes me vulnerable. I do not favor being used.

I get irrationally angry when I see that my friends are going through the same problems as me. Maybe it is because I care about them, or it could be because I am jealous. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I am doing a lot and not enough at the same time, and I hate myself for it. I punish myself with restless nights of crying and bleeding, torture myself with challenges against successful people, push myself to the brink of pain and defeat because I know I am cable of being successful. So why do I not just do more?
adira Feb 2018
give me attention
i'm new i'm cool
I need people to give me those views
please leave a like
I need attention i want to be truly famous
it dosen't matter whether i care about you or not
I want my money an absolute lot
I don't care that i'm not a good person or an ignorant ****
I want money and attention right now
but for some reason in all this time i haven't been successful at all
im not at all like this i was just making a statement on people on the internet who just want attention and will do anything for it often times losing their charm or coming across as jerks in the prosses
growingpains Jan 2018
There's a part of you that still grows,
within me
But you've been buried deep in soil,
beneath me
Every day, I encounter,
the thought of our possible future
But maybe that was the world's way
Of telling me you weren't meant to stay
Leila The Kiwi Sep 2017
I'm in control of my thoughts
But that doesn't mean
I have control of the reins.

You might be steering the horse
But you're not the one that decides
Whether it will listen,
If things will run smoothly
Or you'll be thrown off.

That's how my brain gets sometimes
It charges wherever it wants
And I have to hold on tight.

I'll pack everything up,
Crawl into bed
And latch on.

l.v.s
Something I found hidden away in my draft poems.
Thy birth on January 13th –
   cervical contractions
   would not abate
the pesky master (papa), strove

   to synchronize seminal bait
thence, forty-two weeks
   after ma parents did pro create
imminent lviii plus years ago to date,

this present baby boomer doth
   indubitably and inherently equate
nineteen hundred and fifty nine
   bequeathed birthed mine kempf ill fate

neurological manifestation,
   sans obsessive compulsive did grate
behavioral motif and analogous
   to frontispiece per story I hate
of my life and hard times,
   when all of a sudden out blue irate,

the onset of emotional nadir,
   where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
   decrying, detonating,
   and describing me own Pigs Bay

Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
   and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
   sphere inroads usurped no delay

riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
   scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did
   Swiss hide dill naught

   to decimate with spirited ghost
   of William Tecumseh Sherman
   determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times)
   referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
   of rebellious confederated voices
   yelling “HOORAY”

Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication
incorporating connection between anterior
cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity
bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges)

greater activity upon basal ganglia, which
synoptic description does nothing to alter
the predisposition to ingress of un control
able imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical
fixation particularly during onset of puberty,

when an emotional kamikaze nose dive
at nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow
of me former self nowhere tubby found
on account of deadly symbiotic relationship

asper the invisible nemesis – i.e. electrical
impulses faux nattering nabobs of mien nativity
whereat unseen thriving sensational riffraff
quenched powerhouse ousting nestled milk
maids, or rather pressing said resources,

sans vitality into dangerous, frivolous,
and horrendous self destructive antics,
where ballistic charges drugged eminent
domain former nerve cell size occupants,
thoroughly re-engineering sense and sensibility

with pride fullness and prejudice on par
with dousing one with ****** completely
upends functioning healthily, judging lovingly,
and managing productively versus expending
precious time and energy self absorbed

into manic, neurotic, and/or psychotic actions,
manners, thoughts, et cetera, which irrationality
got embedded within the neurological interstices,  
even as of this moment hound me
akin to wild beasts circling ever closer
to launch mortal kombat against their very housing.
Àŧùl Apr 2017
If love is successful,
It can translate as life.
If love is unsuccessful,
It can be deadly too.

If love is successful,
One may play the leisurely fife.
If love is unsuccessful,
One may start their countdown.

If love is successful,
It can bless a person.
If love is unsuccessful,
It will **** the person.
My HP Poem #1511
©Atul Kaushal
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