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Wayward Dec 2018
Family: a group of persons of common ancestry

What is a family when they make you cry?
What is a family when they don't hear your sobs?
What is a family when they let you down?
What is a a family when they don't help you back up?
What is a family when they condemn you?
What is a family when they don't appreciate you?
What is a family when they can't support you?
What is a family when they don't value you?

Why call it a family?
Being bound by blood does not justify the term.
Where is the love, the respect, and the happiness?
Don't they see the suffocation they put me through?

Been a little isolated from my family recently.....
I don't really like this poem lol but I wanted to let it out somewhere
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
In the cold seconds of the dark night
When a message from another is frozen
Does not solitude answer?
Speeding back to reply
With a smooth and resounding silence
And most would place this
Next to the bins that they empty
But I see it
As unblemished beauty
One midnight rose
Whose pedals blend in
So that only sterling starlight
Can define its edges
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
Carrying me upon the path
With cracked and calloused
I sing merrily
The least I can do
Yet I see the obstacles ahead
No need to struggle
With them
Wayward Nov 2018
She watched as the predator made his move,
Red flags of caution flashed in her head.
She knew his feelings wouldn’t be true,
Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him as she lay in bed.

She had seen far too worse in the name of love,
But something about her predator seemed to captivate her.
She promised to be careful, that was her vow,
But every time she saw him she knew they’d end up together.

A glance turned into a chat and a chat turned into a touch.
With every passing day he stopped being a predator.
She told herself she'd be stubborn and not budge,
But she was breaking and his affection was her sedative.

It wasn't long before their hearts bridged the gap,
It wasn’t long before their lips met for a kiss.
It wasn’t long before she fell into the trap,
It wasn’t long before she couldn’t resist.

She was finally being accepted for who she really was,
And could bid her insecurities farewell.
She allowed herself to move on from the scars,
And cherished being the girl who fell.

                                                          ­    -Wayward❤
This is a chick flick in the form of a poetry. So I tried my best to portray an alternate rhyming scheme. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Pauper of Prose Oct 2018
She lays along her porch
In clothes of comfort
Enclosed in comforts
A modest house
A ancestral skill
A family purring in peace
Yet I’d only want a piece
Of her
None of all that other
Such a western reality
Is rooted in my mentality
To see her behind a glass
As children gawk and gasp
Wayward Oct 2018
I look into the mirror, admiring what I see,
Oh the soft curves, there's no one else I'd rather be,
Is she a queen or is she a *****?
Who is the girl that I see in front of me?

Now I see a woman, independent and sweet.
A respected wife and a loving mother of three.
Is she really content or is she just compromised?
Who is the woman I see in front of me?

As time goes by, so does my age,
I hate what I see, we're no longer on the same page,
All these liars praise my non-existent youth,
But oh the mirror shows me the truth.

Mirror mirror on the wall,
Why are you the cruelest of them all?
Show me the day that I once believed,
That I was the prettiest maiden that ever lived.
Beauty and vanity is such an unexplored concept. We spend hours admiring or hating ourselves. It takes a certain level of maturity to love yourself and accept what you are. Much love xoxo
Wayward Sep 2018
A fallen angel, is what you are.
They cut off your wings and left a scar.
Uniquity was a crime that was unforgiven.
And forever you were banished from heaven.

What dragged you down to the depths of ****?
Was it really necessary to rebel?
It was your courage to take a stand.
Even when you knew you’d receive reprimand.

Fallen or not, angel you remained.
Follow your dreams, love, don’t be ashamed.
You don’t need wings to rise high,
You are your own limit, not the sky.
I'm at a cross roads in my life right now. I recently dropped out from an engineering college to follow a field of my interest. Somewhere in the middle of all the drama around me, I whipped this little poem out.
So, for anyone going through a similar situation, don't let anything stop you from following your dreams/passion.
Wayward Sep 2018
I told myself I'd never fall again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I wouldn't love again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never trust again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never truly smile again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never be able to laugh again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never be loved again,
Yet here I am.
I  told myself I'd never be happy again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd stay happy.
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never cry over you,
Yet here I am.
I told myself you'd always be there for me,
Yet here we are, far apart.

Oh the beautiful lies and the false hope we gave ourselves.
When will we learn to descend
From the fantasy that we built
Farewell love, I'm glad that we met
Random, hazy, raw, and true
That's what I was going for.
Exploring out of the rhyme scheme and basic metaphor.
Wayward Aug 2018
The silver light reflected off of the blade.
She knew what she had to do to numb the pain.
She had seen too much, but lived too little.
She couldn't go on, her heart was brittle.

The light that reflected, danced in the night.
She blocked her memories, and blocked her fright.
She reminded herself of the reasons she had,
And forgot about the ones that weren't that bad.

She watched the blade tickle her skin.
And blinked the tears that ran down her chin.
She looked at herself for one last time,
And pushed all her thoughts out of her mind.

She felt the blood gush out her veins.
She let out a sigh, and took pleasure in the pain.
She felt the life slip out of her body,
And let those around her feel sorry.
This is completely inspired by 13 Reasons why.
Wayward Aug 2018
She watched the flames consume her land,
She watched her castle turn to ash.
All she wanted was to be saved.
But there was no King to her salvage.

She knew she'll make it out alive,
But she looked out at her kingdom with a sigh.
She knew she built her walls too high,
Locking up everything she loved, inside.

She knew it was time to move on,
All that she'd ever known, was now gone.
Her frayed gown swayed to the wind,
As she walked away, leaving her kingdom behind.

I have no idea why I wrote this or what I was trying to convey. Probably, my worst ever poem. I'll work on a nice one today. This one's specifically inspired by Alec Benjamin.
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