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Annie 1h
Proudly standing, rigid trees
   Swaying gently in the breeze
We watch the shadows fall
   Switches whip, the twigs are severed
   Yet the mighty wood persevers
Awaiting its next call
   Day becomes night; sunshine ends
   Branches soon begin to bend
Raw bark peels in strips.
   Autumn comes; the trees must fight
   For each burning speck of light
Drudged from unwilling lips.
   We watch them quiver in the breeze
   The axe-man comes to fell the trees
The thinnest shall go first.
   Year by year, the seasons change
   We ignore the passing strange
Stiff bodies, in one hearse.
   No one knows if it shall end
   The loss of foe, alike with friend
Means sunlight for the living.
   “What shall happen to them all?”
   Still we watch the shadows fall
A gift that keeps on giving.
Heera 16h
If you are still up there,
Trying to watch out for me
Among millions of sufferers
My prayer, has been altered.
It has become a last wish
Instead of the general cries.

As a believer,
Even As a kid
Was never of wealth, health or materialistic joy..
I knew i could get them with hardwork...
So, I only asked for your togetherness in it all.
But as i grew
There was one more thing my heart desired
the touch of true love
The way it feels true enough
Someone who would put with me
Through it all
But i guess even to ask that
Was too much
In this cursed world,
No one has time for others.

Hence, i threw that wish away.
So, for one time,
If you really exist,
Even for a second...
Listen to me
To every word i say
I have always believed when a theist turns atheist
The universe conspires to make their belief right.
I wonder, just because i was loosing all hope
You played this cruel joke on me?
That i became indifferent,
You started reminding me
It isn't me who holds the ties in hands
My controls are mere illusion?
If this is some sick joke like that
Pardon me,
I'm furious at you.
I know you have a lot of them out there
Worshipping you crazily
Why would you even listen to me?
But i have a reason..
Because  i'm the weirdo
Who took you as a friend
Who didn't ask for much but love
Who was mad at you
And tested you, for a change
I never really lost hope
Even up until now
Now too, this stupid heart believes you would help this tormented soul.
I don't know if you are listening,
If you are
For one and a last time
Heed my plea
Unlike those humans of yours
Please let me be free
For once and all
Let me sleep
Into a peaceful death
I make you swear on my love, rightfulness and friendship, and belief on you, that i have kept for years...
I don't ask for love anymore
Not even my beloved
Just * death.
Emma 2d
Don’t pick apart what I feel for you.
No, there has never been anyone before you.
But, I am not an emotional cripple.
I know myself, and my mind.
Am capable of recognising what it is I feel.
Love you. Kind of. Maybe. By half.
I am on the way to love, at least.
You vacillate in the doldrums, a land of grey uncertainty, rather than travelling in either direction.
I’ll wait. Not forever.
It’s like having a part of my body outside of itself.
Vulnerable and full of the absence of something divided.
Something that was previously mine given to you.
I knew love would be hard when it came.
Not this sad, or this sort of hard.
I expected modest love, and humdrum hard.
This is like being the wife of a sailor gone out to sea.  
Interminable longing and painful waiting.
My heart pulls in my chest, the steady drumbeat too loud, loud enough to feel in my fingers, feel in my legs.
It tightens in discomfort, and sends me spiralling.
I wish I could hold you.
I wish I could heal you.
But neither is possible without you.
And I’m still waiting.
Tones 2d
waiting for the clouds to pass
waiting for a tree to grow
waiting for the doubt to shrink
waiting for the day I'll know
waiting for life to begin
waiting for the sky to turn blue
waiting until the end of time
because I said I'd always wait for you
skez 2d
he was just a passing rain
and i'm looking like a fool
waiting here
to be poured again
Holly M 3d
Blank page;
Early age;
Trying to set aside my rage-
But all I find is sorrow.

My lips sing the same old tune;
Passersby stare at me like I'm a loon;
Perhaps they wouldn't if I found a new song to croon-
Maybe you've got one I can borrow.

In the streets, we walk so close;
In my head are a thousand poems I'll never compose;
But I know I'll never be your morning rose-
Cupid must have missed when he shot his arrow.

Tonight I lay in my bed,
Thinking of all the words I have and haven't said,
Wishing I'd just opened my mouth instead-
Maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow.
My voice cries out from forced silence,
Thunderous volume in my ears,
Words preparing to do violence
Against my fear to face my fears.

The times I spoke I have been heard,
But poetry’s not for today.
The world needs action, not a word,
Though I’d prefer to run away.

I wish my writing would suffice
So that I never have to be.
But still, I make this sacrifice
Real life needs the real me.

O silent voice, speak through my pen!
A spirit to articulate!
You will be heard, not if but when!
O voice, it’s you I cultivate!
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
RedD Sep 7
The hardest part is letting you walk out the door
Back to your life
That I know hurts you
That I know exhausts you
That consumes you

I want to be there for you
To take away the hurt
I want you to be yourself again
To be happy
To be free
To say and do what makes you content
Without regret

I adore touching you
Kissing you
Loving you
The taste of your lips on mine
The touch of your tongue on mine
Every caress carves with such intensity
Sometimes too unbearable
Because I want this so much
With you
Your touches
Your closeness
Your warmth
Makes me whole again

I will wait for you
My door remains open
I will let you in
The terraces and neglected cafes stays pretty, and even quiet.
The weight of day. The sunset sugar pills. Blue lamppost, a big blue.
Teasing bastard friend, mocking the boy with the piercing on this left face,
The lipstick was twice priced, yes so, A one, five and two with two makes ten.

The chit chat after more chat of short people, talk people, spokespeople
and Notpoeople. Strike twelve, now boredom. His huffing flu resolved itself
"Yessum," he tried saying. For whatever reason. Was a boyfriend of hers.

Indecisive of the next blow. With his little socks and socks of red and green
Put on orderly. Hopes to avoid his thickening, unforgiving secret. Still mixed clues.
A puzzle, a puzzle piece in the centre of question. Arises the attitude remedy.
His only skill is comedy.  A blaze morning sun rises now. Oh dear, not now.

Strolls about resembling exactly of kings. A King, he told himself to be like.
Waiting, waiting, in a hurry he's waiting to wait for the girl to come, presently.
In Proportions, he waits presently. So easy and a little hasty, here she comes -

Sugar on ice, not all but a slice delight, my precise precise. Having lunch,
Delicacy lemonade, in likeness, with a perfect meal with sauce on fries.
There's too much honey in his drink - Tender change, good meal they say.


They lost each other in April,  A signal of hurt was played in a collection of rue.

She was left with a blister, mostly solemn, absent and good.

The terraces and cafes remain pretty, and even quiet.
Life at Seventeen
O with what heavy heart
And steaded blissfulness
Doth I burdened start
Dodge the dreaded crinkles.
My soul is aching,
Much to my chagrin
As she stands their alone,
Sullenly basking.
How I Wish to be freed
From this forsaken place
Allowed to wander by steed
At a vagabond's thorough pace.
Yearn for adventure
I shall
Through the bitter years that follow,
For I myself a lady
Stall not the humble morrow.
An infinite wait spent in solemnity
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