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Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
If I had a dime for every poem or song I wrote
That never made it, I'd be a millionaire,
If I had to survive by my own creations,
Be my own boss, I'd be a total dead scare.
tap Mar 2015
My heart was always
in the wrong place.
The things that didn’t
matter at all,
I gave them my all.
I wasted so much energy on
useless pish.
Terminal friendships.
Unsalveagable projects.
Lost causes.

I used up so much of my time,
hoping that I could fix them,
like a lost child
trying to stop a burning house.
A stranger stuck outside in the rain
without an umbrella or a jacket.
But sometimes, you just have to
put the water bucket down,
stop looking for shelter,
and give up.
i was never good at choosing where to invest my efforts. imagine having to choose between saving money for something important and spending every single cent you have. at some point, i'd crack under pressure and choose the latter.
Jared San Miguel Mar 2015
The rain wears on
your limestone skin
as umbrellas are held
off your center by granite others.

I extend a hand
as if you weren't 20 miles deep.
Advertise a cure
and deliver smoke to gasping lungs under the guise.

In this tenebrific atmosphere
I claim to be brave while clinging to my torch.
Endless succorance performed
and answers given from behind glass and across telephone lines.

I only know of the place
where the pace is kept
to the time of constant mizzle.
Perhaps I could spot it on a map, from far away.

How is one in the Fourth
to help another in the Third?
Folly to believe I could stop the bleeding.
Laughable when the scarless comment on how to suture.
Mile Conde Feb 2015
I am shallow.
I know I am.
I hate it about me
And I'm never good enough.

It's hard to fulfill
Ideals that belong to the past.
It's time to move on
It's time to do whatever you like.

But the chains won't loosen up.
And there's still a long road before us.
Will you be brave and go forward?
I don't think I can do it.

Neither do you.
Nobody believes in me.
Nor do they know what fuels me.
I keep getting up from the rough road.

Why do I do that?
Why don't I just let go?
I'm not strong enough to **** myself.
I'm not strong enough at all.

I'm a coward.
I can't take it.
My body shakes
My hands are trembling.

There's no way out.
Depression is darkness
That swallows me whole.
It drags me to its depths.

*It corrupts my soul
And endless night filled with sorrow and self-disgust. That would be my life.
Leo-chan Feb 2015
She was little when it started,
The constant remarks made behind her back.
They never seemed to stop and one day she listened.

They pinched at her arms and called them fat,
So she started wearing sleeves,
even though her arms were perfect.

They pulled at her hair and called it *****,
So she started wearing beanies/ hats,
Even though her hair was gorgeous.

They called her conceited,
So she believed she was ugly,
even though She was a masterpiece.

They called her teeth yellow,
So she stopped smiling,
even though it was beautiful.

They called her annoying,
So she stopped talking,
even though her voice was lovely.


They told her she was useless,
So she stopped trying,
even though she meant the world to some people..
Samantha Jan 2015
you have eyes
you have a sight
but you didn't see

you have a mouth
you have a voice
but you didn't speak

you have ears
you could hear
but you didn't understand

you have a head
you have a brain
but you didn't think

you have a heart
you could feel
but you didn't let it beat
not even a little bit, not even at all




(samber)
1/28/15
stargirl Jan 2015
Everyone is so sick and tired
of being sick and tired.

I'm sick of writing poems
for the same person,
and I long for the day,
where I completely stop feeling
the constant necessity
to reach out to them.

I'm tired of not being able
to say the word "love"
and I wish every night,
that I will eventually have the courage
to scream it from the summit
of every building
in the whole world.

Oh, we complain,
and we ache,
but in the end,
nothing's changing,
and we're the same
useless beings
we were before.

You're sick tired
of being sick and tired,
but when will you actually
do something about it?
wrote this months ago but whatever I guess
Wasted Youth Jan 2015
Trying is just another thing to keep me down
Smiling is just stretching my engraved frown

I saw the world around me up to a  standard
I'm below it with the environment making me stranded

They say I have potential
I don't think I can leave my mind's shell

Long ago I exposed myself to the truth
They don't see that I'm just wasted youth

Hope comes with a cost
The hopeless who made a future for themselves because among those who are eternally lost

They think I have it all together
They're confused when my mind is somewhere else
Handicapped by the world I've been forced into
They don't see what I have to see every day
I'm not worse off
Why couldn't someone less fortunate switch lives with me
I'm never going to be anything
I just waste air and resources on earth
I'm wasted youth
I'm well aware this is garbage
Five Fingers Jan 2015
my life
is at
a stand still
everything is
broken
into these tiny *******
little
pieces
that i cant put
back
to
gether
and i dont understand any of it
and i cant move to change it
its like a nightmare
its like quick sand
its like nothing
but all at once
and
i
feel
so
alone
i hate who i've become and i dont even recognize myself anymore and i dont know if i even want to cause im so useless and ashamed
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