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I even read
your famous poems
that many people
have read.

I even read
it many times
and got lost
in it.

I even thought
I might
easily remember
all the titles
of your poems
in every word
and I have also
been able to
understand it
little by little.

I even started
writing poetry
for myself.

I even sat
for a long time
just to think of words.

I even want
to be like you
or maybe more.

“Am I enough
to be able to achieve
what you once
achieved?”,
I tell you
in front of
these poems
of mine.

“I want to be myself”,
he told me in this poem
now you're
reading.
Indonesia, 21st September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Choke on the lies;
but the truth also hard to digest.
As to hunger for words,
to be fed my worth of their love;
Born by a tone of voice-
A child indeed of bless.

May the excuses be;
as wild as I am to self (Maybe)
Tamed by softest words of love.
But its only in the above;
man seeks truth of Heavens not seen.

So I will be-
better known by my words.
Even if they go unheard;
all these words are my worth.
cleobug 4d
in the backyard
lighting up a smokescreen
high on all the thoughts
of what once was and could have been

filled to the brim with these emotions
but i don't feel a thing
how tiring it is to always think so much
and still remain the same
cleobug 4d
concerned for my future, got my mind stuck in the past
barely made it this far as it is how am i  honestly expected to last
but i made it, i'm here
no applause, please, no cheers
this isn't quite how i envisioned it
not how i pictured it
still fighting for control of my life despite everything
Jaicob 6d
The perfect response..

Somebody could be a natural at many things
Like singing or dancing or drawing things
Other people are great at writing things
And I'm good at poetry

I naturally write in verse,
Poetic as I think,
I've even been caught mumbling
Words without any ink.

I'm a natural poet
(and most don't even know it)
fray narte Sep 11
I'll always feel in my chest broken Septembers. I am languishing with the days, head first to a point of no return. I am the ghost of an abducted goddess, the one who bled all over saffrons and still holds on to her sorrows. I bid farewell to the sunglow on wildflowers. I bid farewell to daylit copper fields. I bid farewell to golden hours, as down I descend to the sweetest madness, and up it goes to consume me.
Matthew Sep 10
How's it going?

okay?

Are you there?
Idk what to fricking say. I'm so boring.
Municipal Corporation
Has begun collecting
Garbage door to door
I told them
I have special kind of garbage
Accumulated over the years
The garbage of words
They refused to take
Saying it's difficult to sift this kind of garbage into categories
Their garbage processing plant
Might explode
It's been a while
since I've written,
maybe I was trying to forget
the pain that I felt
when I put words on the paper,
or maybe it was just regret
of the life gone by
people left detached,
maybe this does not make any sense at all
this uncertainty
is not good for my sanity,
all I need in this world of maybes
is just some security.
The secure people are usually non-adventurous. I think that is what you need at times.
Rama Krsna Sep 7
🎁
🎁🎁
🎁🎁🎁
🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁
🎁         if mere words              🎁
🎁      could only deliver           🎁
🎁 how i really feel about you 🎁
🎁     i’ll happily dissolve         🎁
🎁   into ink, pen and paper    🎁
🎁      to gift wrap myself         🎁
🎁    as a poem, just for you     🎁
🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁
© 2021
dedicated to all the beautiful women in my life
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