Hello Poetry
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#concern
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0
5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 7:59 AM UTC
written down
Every slap of fury, making holes in my soul - holes that bullets can never make, holes that can heal, but break his heart that no surgery can fix. Like a plant, I was nurtured, groomed and planted with care in the depths of that heart. Every time he cuts and trims, chlorophyll bleeds onto the moist soil. Pain is drilled into my green face; it pains him more than it does me, just so that I can reach for the skies and touch those clouds that he could never touch. That tear in the flesh burnt stronger than ever. I wailed like crazy, but he comforted and cured me. He cleaned my wound. He cleansed my unholy soul. That scar never left, yet fixed every hole in my dehydrated chest. When I broke the promise, I fractured at the seams, but he fixed me, even though I wasn’t sharp as a bar of soup - more stubborn than bark against the blade, beaded with pesticides; yet he persevered. The darkened hero never left the city; Hercules of gold towered my blemished soul. He continued being that wolf blowing away the pigs’ houses. He wasn’t that wolf you see in every story. He made it better, rebuilt me with his bare hands, with wood and sticks - more precious than any jewel you can find. He was my father.
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Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 11:22 PM UTC
My Father
I cried out, when they ***** the young girl, and no one believed. I cried out, when they stole from the old man, and no one believed. I cried out, when they shoved salt in the young boy's wound, and no one believed. I cried out, when they crushed the old lady's hope, and no one believed. I cried out, when those we trusted became monsters, and no one believed. I will cry again, will you believe?
0
Nov 24, 2025
Nov 24, 2025 at 11:51 AM UTC
I am the boy who cried wolf~
I stand here, torn between two worlds, love pulling me forward, but fear holding me back. over and over, the doubts which whisper in my ear, vows of safety that promises nothing, every beat of my heart feels like a war yet, her eyes calls to me, filled with unspoken hope, only I’m trapped in the shadows of my own mind, underneath it all, I want to run to her, torn between the hope of love and the dread of loss. every step toward her feels like stepping off a cliff, still, my feet hesitate, heart pounding in my chest, suffocating in the space between what I want and what I fear.
0
Jul 14, 2025
Jul 14, 2025 at 5:30 AM UTC
Split
I worry a lot, And I know I need to stop, But I can't just leave anxiety, It's a human instinct inside of me. I worry for your safety, I worry for mine, It's a cold world out there, Without enough fire to keep us all warm. So if you're struggling, Please confide in me, I worry so much for you, For your happiness.
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Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 8:20 AM UTC
I Worry
—a poem for the broken quiet of Hello Poetry This was meant to be a haven— ink-stained sanctuary where silence could bloom into verse, where hurt could heal in soft stanzas and shared breath. But now— every scroll feels like stepping through shattered glass. The comment threads, once stitched with kindness, now rip apart at the seams. Accusations buzz like hornets, each reply a stinger piercing deeper into fear. Names thrown like knives, defense and damnation fighting for dominance in spaces meant for peace. I see poems not of love, not of loss, but of monsters lurking behind usernames, of children caught in digital snares, of moderators gone silent, as if safety were a forgotten draft left unpublished in the void. I haven’t spoken— not yet. But I feel the shadows pressing against my page, wondering if one day they’ll find me, slip through my poems with sugary words and hollow hearts. What if I mistake poison for praise? What if I smile at a trap thinking it’s just another reader kind enough to care? I haven’t been touched by it— yet. But that doesn’t mean the fire isn’t creeping closer. I write in hope, but I carry worry like watermark— invisible until held to light. So I ask, not just for myself, but for every young poet finding their first courage here: Where are the watchers? Where is the warning bell? Who guards the gates when predators write poetry, too? I want to believe this space can be better. That we are louder than the silence that lets evil grow. That we are not just witnesses— but protectors, word-warriors with sharpened pens. Because poetry should not be a hunting ground. And no poem should end in a wound.
0
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 12:41 PM UTC
Whispers in the Comment Threads
—a poem for the broken quiet of Hello Poetry This was meant to be a haven— ink-stained sanctuary where silence could bloom into verse, where hurt could heal in soft stanzas and shared breath. But now— every scroll feels like stepping through shattered glass. The comment threads, once stitched with kindness, now rip apart at the seams. Accusations buzz like hornets, each reply a stinger piercing deeper into fear. Names thrown like knives, defense and damnation fighting for dominance in spaces meant for peace. I see poems not of love, not of loss, but of monsters lurking behind usernames, of children caught in digital snares, of moderators gone silent, as if safety were a forgotten draft left unpublished in the void. I haven’t spoken— not yet. But I feel the shadows pressing against my page, wondering if one day they’ll find me, slip through my poems with sugary words and hollow hearts. What if I mistake poison for praise? What if I smile at a trap thinking it’s just another reader kind enough to care? I haven’t been touched by it— yet. But that doesn’t mean the fire isn’t creeping closer. I write in hope, but I carry worry like watermark— invisible until held to light. So I ask, not just for myself, but for every young poet finding their first courage here: Where are the watchers? Where is the warning bell? Who guards the gates when predators write poetry, too? I want to believe this space can be better. That we are louder than the silence that lets evil grow. That we are not just witnesses— but protectors, word-warriors with sharpened pens. Because poetry should not be a hunting ground. And no poem should end in a wound.
Continue reading...
68
Concern yourselves not with others Worry not about what they will do I will concern myself with them And you, for your part, follow me You know nothing of my plans My ways are higher than yours Fix your gaze upon my light And keep the goal in sight Conduct yourselves in upright bearing And, in robes of virtue gladly wearing, I will mind my other children They are mine to mold and guide Do not be blinded to your own sin How can you help someone else When you can't first help yourself I concern myself with you I worry, but I so dearly love you Stop comparing where you stand I want your best and not your better than Don't you know you are the one I love Always and forever from Heaven above
0
Dec 17, 2024
Dec 17, 2024 at 10:07 PM UTC
Concern Yourselves
Why be weary in the perfection of your blade When the flaws in your step are much fiercer? What is the point of your bruises and cuts When you still lack the distance to pierce her? Just how many more of her blows can you take? When will you stop holding back? Loosen your grip, and sunder your stance, Don’t your opponent their slack. Though, she is not the enemy.
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Oct 28, 2024
Oct 28, 2024 at 9:45 AM UTC
Villainess
Thoughts have stopped being my own An unknown finger presses play And when I get surprised by an original That which I think becomes difficult to convey What I want in life and from life Has no meaningful connection with the following day Forced into this empty role No two cents in the character I display Prewritten by something else No angel but not a devil per-say Rather an capital punishment believer With zero concern for my welfare either way ©2024
0
Sep 25, 2024
Sep 25, 2024 at 6:02 PM UTC
~•§•~ Difficult to Convey ~•§•~
I try to show 'em how it's done, no one's there to hold my beer I wonder why I really care I know it's never gonna matter I would bet money I don't have on the fact it'll never get better So I never concern myself with later After the first couple pages flipped through a calendar You'll never find me there Most I know will cheer Saying, "I told you so dear" Now everyone's a future seer Go figure ©2024
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Jun 1, 2024
Jun 1, 2024 at 1:39 PM UTC
~•§•~ Bet ~•§•~
I wish it was as easy As you say it should be To turn concern inwardly Then, ultimately emerge again when successful in identifying the key to victory I wish it was that easy But I don't have it in me I can't make clear the complexity Of why I can't even be the me I need me to be to feed my family properly I know I make it easy To shame me, to pity me To chain me to the pit of my own misery Just don't let my last breath be what finally makes you take my plea seriously You know as well as me It's not as easy as "To be or not to be" No further questions please Until I free me, I'll be in my headspace if you need me... ©2024
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Feb 1, 2024
Feb 1, 2024 at 5:27 PM UTC
~•§•~ Not As Simple As "To Be Or Not To Be" ~•§•~
Boo toward color which explains why ye esteem attendance often unseen Hence ye don't have to believe Though show concern toward those whom either fated or destined to embrace likes of no species
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Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 6:38 AM UTC
Hueve
What flawed design is this? Framed by greed, eyed by chance, Do you think so easily you can entrap me in this dance? It is a marriage contract in which I have no choice - I have no ground, no sound, no voice... I cannot. What? Either it is my future or my siblings' in jeopardy. I exaggerate - We can afford this, but barely. Minimum student loan: The bane of many, the burden of many Burden of unrealistic measures. You ask me to live off borrowed money On borrowed time? You ask me to learn as others did off reflections from the past, When time has moved on, and moved on fast? When the world is barking at these measures, and still it continues, And I, at risk of being denied an education, cannot refuse To do things, not just by halves, but by even by eighths. And would I, I would refuse another year, and hope the Fates Prove kind. Do they prove kind to those who complain? Who ever loved a rebel, when the rebel was alone?
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Sep 16, 2021
Sep 16, 2021 at 5:02 PM UTC
FortnightForFatigue Poem #4
I come here to this island rich in growth clear warm fluid to catch its currents and swim its nurturing depths where I can breathe underwater and leave traces of my darkness to float like drops of ink in a glass bowl. These tropics reside on the map of my heart for me to locate when covered by layers of sand in the desert on gray slate days barren days of lost inspiration when I am turned in on me and my tottering self the me I see on my pockmarked well-traveled and aged face each morning in the mirror. I arrive here each time with a glimmer a hope I can find within me a point of light some soft and pure place a source a force where I can rise again.
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Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 12:02 PM UTC
This Island
I am so restricted to me That I don't see the world around me The universal sea I am caccooned to a well My well-being at that I don't see the obvious It does concern us It is all dubious Too hard to understand the truth Till it is too late Wait, I should do that Hey, I can't help that Well there is no end to my rant Wait it is happening fast Isn't it just great! You know, you know I know but I don't It just doesn't show Too caught up in me I lose moments of my sanity Losing on my vanity.
0
Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 4:17 PM UTC
Me, well!
I pledge to Nigeria my country. From between the heavens and the earth lies. I pledge to not be a betrayer, but loyal. Even when our leaders turn slayers. I pledge to be the voice That echoes above a mere noise. I pledge to fight off vices with my pen. To inspire, educate and liberate all our countrymen. I pledge to be faithful, loyal and honest. Even thou, our leaders proved to be dishonest. To serve Nigeria with all my strengths. In times when we were left with impotence. And to nourish the great work of our forefathers. As she stopped being a douth mother. I pledge to defend her unity, Uphold her honor and glory. None will be left out- not a single entity. Moment speaks, as all now become a past story. Together we shall conquer. Together we shall strive. Together we shall set the pace right. Together we shall rise up to the light Nigeria @ 60—TOGETHER is the theme. TOGETHER WE SHALL STAND……… =====SO HELP US GOD.
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 2:53 AM UTC
TOGETHER..... NIGERIA @60
To all my contacts I'll    not be answering anything more. By the time you have woken up,                I'll be slumbering, you couldn't have saved me,             I couldn't even save me. Just know that this is here to say,                     you all meant something but to me I meant less than a message...   DELETE IF YOU CONCERN IS LESS...
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Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
The Last Text I'll Send....
The suicide note was blank,             I hadn't thought up a good enough excuse yet    for why they killed themselves. This one was a tough one,   as my hands aren't as strong as the used to be, took ages to suffocate... But as I hung them up like a piñata,   covering the ligature marks smoothly. I pushed them to get a rhythm  of what                to write.. I was tired, uninspired... I'm getting to old                for this manual labour, time to retire and write love stories... "To whom it may concern,                          "tested gravity.. "I got a D- oh well....
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May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 6:21 PM UTC
Blank Ideas Of Death.
Doe eye My baby girl Sweet and shy , coveted with monsters eyes . I didn't realise how mistreated and misplaced she was . I didn't realise she was seeking comfort trembling with fear . I didn't realise my little rose is withering . By the time I realise , i was crying holding the stone carved with her name on it . I hope when your daughter says I don't want to go to school ,you hear her . I hope you notice the way her words seem to sink in the air . I hope you notice her words coming out with such a heft that cannot be supported by her breath. I hope you feel how icy her surroundings have become I hope you push the hair from her face and look into those doe eyes , And ask her to open up her wings . Please be bothered for what is keeping her from seeing her friends . Take her into your arms , hold her , mantle her . A
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May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
Doe Eyes