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Anastasia Aug 29
and lilacs
and white
the scent
of sweetness
makes it
my tongue
with blossoms
the swing
and there
we sat
just you and me
your hand in mine
for eternity
Anastasia Aug 1
She was made
of gold
and marble
and she stood
the water.
A boy of stone
less looked at
stood hidden
the ivy.
by most
he loved
the girl
of gold
and marble.
loved her
loved him
and they whispered
their love
in the night.
what do you think?
Brayden Allen Jul 30
Eventually we all grow old
but I’m truly ready to watch
their love grow old,
stronger with each day.
My brother’s love for his girl
resembles that of my Dad’s.
My parents aren’t the perfect couple
they bicker and they fight and they learn
to take everyday as a new
and use the ashes of yesterday
so they can fertilize the new morning.
When I look at my brother
and see his hand holding her’s
I know they worked to stay intertwined
like the most beautiful ******* vines
you’ve ever seen.
Anastasia Jul 28
covered in vines
and wildflowers
lays the best part of me
with thoughts of you
floating around like clouds
a heart-shaped hole
contains my memories
of when i was happy
of whispers
sang to the stars
and secrets
sang to the moon
of fireflies
in my hands
and sunlight
on my skin
of stretches
in the morning
with anticipation
of seeing you
that what's hidden
in the deepest part of me
if you look
hard enough
you'll see a smile
and a hand
that held
by an angel
by the name of
and if you try
you'll find
I wish I could go deep enough to rescue it, but I can barely swim.
maureen Jun 18
a tangled mess is
what most would call it,
wrapped in a series
of unblossoming madness.

i was blinded by the fact
that i'm letting these roots grow
that i've forgotten to **** out
the thorns of all my sorrow.
Ickabobroe Apr 15
I'm watching the vines pull you down

So intently focusing on the horror ahead of me

I don't notice sinking myself
Nathalie Apr 14
The vines blended
in perfect union
mixing the perfect
blend of reasons
why one
should not deny
themselves the intoxicating
feeling of tasting the
the sweetness on their
lips and savouring
the inviting warmth
it produced.

Clueless Mar 6
It starts with a seed of an idea.

The vine begins to grow from nothing,
Just like the thought in my mind coming from nowhere.

The seed of an idea sprouts,
It grows,
Thoughts make their way onto my paper.

Words are now developing,
The vines grow longer,
The idea becomes stronger,
The stanzas get longer.

The vines are now growing exponentially,
It seems to never stop,
It seems to come from no where,
Thoughts are the fuel,
And inspiration drives the growth.

Leaves sprout from the trunk,
They begin to cover everthing,
My vines of words begin to cover the page,
It grows and grows,
Enveloping everthing,
Until it reaches its longest length.

The vines are now stop growing,
It starts to retreat now,
The leaves turn brown,
Then fall.

The trunk is getting weaker,
As my mind begins to stall,
My thoughts cannot keep pace,
Everything winds down.

The trunk thins,
The vine recedes,
My thought decays.

Soon the trunk dies too,
There is nothing left.

My vines are gone along with my mind.
Just a way to describe all my poem writing processes. Whenever I write the words I use seem to sprout from nothing and rise to great lengths and than fall until my mind is blank.
I wrote this starting with 1 line in the first stanza then 2 in the next increasing up to 6 lines. After that, the stanzas retreat back down to 1 line. This is to show the rise and fall of my "vines." Hope you enjoy, any constructive criticism is always welcomed.
fig Mar 6
wrap my wrists.
they reopen the scars,
dismantle the defenses,
tear down the walls.
i will rebuild.
Khrome Mar 4
the day you sprouted into my life,
I was intrigued by you immediately,
like a newly grew seed of ivy,
it invaded my lawn without fail.

but just like many lawns that needs mowing,
I tried to shake off your existence.
planting roses and daffodils, but to no avail,
ending up fertiziling the feelings i have for you.

your untamed and cheerful nature,
enthralls me even more towards you;
And as your vines crazily crawls unpredictedly,
I steadily stood my ground to stop it.

but still, I once again failed.
Like a kid who's slowly being binded,
binded by the love i feel,
a love like vines that I know would never bloom.

but as time goes by, and day by day has come,
I'm learning to live by the vines,
the binds started to become ropes,
ropes to move up to sunshine.

As the vines nurtures even futher,
and starts to burgeon lilac colored flowers,
I'm starting to understand the untamed and cheerful nature,
is for it to bear blooms that are delicate and precious.
dedicated to my delicate and precious ivy.
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