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#diseases
Sparkling droplets fell from the sky, Trees and fields shone bright nearby. Birds flew free with shining wings, Joy returned with the rain it brings. But within days the water stayed, Clogged in streets where children played. Clear reflections soon turned black, Foul smells rising, health attacked. From ***** pools, the insects rise, Spreading sickness, silent cries. Neglecting this, the city lies— No one cares, even if someone dies. I would request everyone who's reading this poem to please once go through the long description I wrote and suggest me something to get rid with the mosquitoes or do something about drainage I dont wanna again get infected with DENGUE
0
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 1:18 AM UTC
Rains in Plains:(
beneath the ground many thousands of souls lay they had their lives taken prematurely songs of the requiem play in remembrance never shall the world forget the disease's marring scar that which dimmed a human's light of existence
0
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 7:38 AM UTC
Songs of The Requiem
Hey, why can you hear and not see? When the sun stopped by a locked window If there was a choice in the way we could chant To the way we strut on our feet. If there were choices how we touch, To beyond our dreams. If there was a choice in the ways we meet, And how we leave behind the people we greet. She sees there is a choice in their actions, intentionally, the way they react to  over reactions. There is a choice in the way we treat, Important not to repeat in the  Explosions which create disease and confusion If there was a choice in how we raise our  Voice, To apologies and resent for the  White noise that were not meant. If there was a choice to be free, To move away from ever going  Tragedies. We knew the choices where we can leave, To create a life to breathe, Out of moon, No shadows but shine. As you knew her choice Unreasonable demand, will Not to be dictated forever by  Demoralizing, our secret happy path
0
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 9:05 AM UTC
Choice or path
I've heard so many people tell those who suffer depression to just 'cheer up.' I wonder if they can really believe that it’s that simple. Depression isn't just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just ‘has depression.’ You suffer from it. This is depression: You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7am, feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep. It’s likely you did. If you don't have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another 3 hours...too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of you bed. Or maybe you will sleep until 1pm, because it’s so much easier to sleep through most of the day than actually live it, and you’re so unbelievably tired anyway. You will push through the day, knowing that every hour will be a struggle and not knowing how you will feel tomorrow. People will ask what is wrong, and you will simply smile and say 'nothing, I'm just tired.' Yes you are tired. You are so tired of drifting through every day, with no will to actually live. But you simply smile, and they'll believe you. It’s so much easier to lie anyway, and most of the time you can push away the guilt.  Sometimes you might find a way out, temporary as it may be. You might write or draw or sing. Or you might cut, burn, binge, purge, drink, starve, scratch, pull, overdose...anything to take your mind away from the utter misery it seems to be so obsessed with. What you don't know is that soon these acts will take over your thoughts. You will spend your days not only lost in the haze of depression, but your mind will be so consumed with these thoughts of escaping and self destruction that you think you could explode. You will see a series of lines, and think of the lovely scars you could make, where you will make them. Your mind will be permanently spinning with thoughts of this pain, and different ways you might destroy yourself or, more precisely, this monster inside you. But of course none of this will work. You will still spend your night alone, sitting and staring at nothing, completing mindless tasks as if they have some importance, as if you are really there. Be careful where you let your mind wander. Night time is the darkest time in depression. That's when all the demons come out, when you become weaker. It is when you will hurt yourself simply to make the urges stop for 5 minutes. It is when you will spend hours crying or screaming for no reason other than the agony inside. You will shake and feel as though your whole body will cave in or explode. No one will understand. You do not have hospital beds, drips, bandages or needles to make people worry. To make them realize that this sad little girl is actually sick and needs help. Of course the depression will have destroyed any self esteem you might have had, so you'll be too scared to ask for the help you need. You just go on, hoping someone will notice your slow, meticulous self-destruction. Don’t worry, it won’t always be so bad. Some days you might even feel stable. You might walk tall for one day, feeling a glint of hope that maybe one day things will get better, that things are getting better and you have the strength to fight. Then one small thing will go wrong, and you’ll fall apart all over again. You feel stupid for even considering that things could get better. Have you ever felt as though your whole body could just crumble any minute? Just crumble and fall apart, like it’s lost anything it had holding it together. That’s what it feel like all the time to be depressed. That raw fragility. It feels as though the smallest disruption in our life, or in your head, or in the world, could send everything spiraling downwards. And it can. The tiniest mistake can cause you to hate yourself more than you could possibly imagine. The smallest crack in your world can make it all seem pointless. Depression destroys any resources you have. Any strength or courage you kept stored away for emergencies. So if the tiniest little storm hits, you are left to trying to survive the ravages of a cyclone without a life boat. It wears you down and even the smallest crack can seem like an earthquake and every minute is spent waiting for the next shake. And then one day, you will find yourself curled up on your bedroom floor, sobbing, because you can’t find anything to wear. Every little thing is just more proof of how worthless you are. Eventually, you begin to expect it. You anticipate the bad times, because you know the good times are just fooling you. And they are filled with fear and anxiety over when everything will come crashing down again. You are always waiting for the next breakdown. You’ve become so accustomed to feeling miserable, that happiness is a foreign feeling that you won’t even let yourself experience. You don’t deserve it. So you become numb, which at times, is worse than the full-blown screaming and crying depressive ‘episodes.’ You find yourself begging to hurt again, because any feeling is better than feeling nothing at all. Depression is one of the cruelest of all illnesses. You see, it’s much easier to fight when you can see an end to it all. When you know that in the end you will either win or lose. But whatever the outcome, the war will be over. The thing about depression is it blurs your perception of the future and makes it near impossible to see that end. You start to think that there’s no such thing as ‘winning’ and why bother fighting if you already know the outcome. It gradually strips you of any hope you previously had. And without hope, it’s difficult to see a future or a reason to fight. 06/27/2004
0
May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 6:51 AM UTC
Depression.
I've heard so many people tell those who suffer depression to just 'cheer up.' I wonder if they can really believe that it’s that simple. Depression isn't just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just ‘has depression.’ You suffer from it. This is depression: You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7am, feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep. It’s likely you did. If you don't have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another 3 hours...too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of you bed. Or maybe you will sleep until 1pm, because it’s so much easier to sleep through most of the day than actually live it, and you’re so unbelievably tired anyway. You will push through the day, knowing that every hour will be a struggle and not knowing how you will feel tomorrow. People will ask what is wrong, and you will simply smile and say 'nothing, I'm just tired.' Yes you are tired. You are so tired of drifting through every day, with no will to actually live. But you simply smile, and they'll believe you. It’s so much easier to lie anyway, and most of the time you can push away the guilt.  Sometimes you might find a way out, temporary as it may be. You might write or draw or sing. Or you might cut, burn, binge, purge, drink, starve, scratch, pull, overdose...anything to take your mind away from the utter misery it seems to be so obsessed with. What you don't know is that soon these acts will take over your thoughts. You will spend your days not only lost in the haze of depression, but your mind will be so consumed with these thoughts of escaping and self destruction that you think you could explode. You will see a series of lines, and think of the lovely scars you could make, where you will make them. Your mind will be permanently spinning with thoughts of this pain, and different ways you might destroy yourself or, more precisely, this monster inside you. But of course none of this will work. You will still spend your night alone, sitting and staring at nothing, completing mindless tasks as if they have some importance, as if you are really there. Be careful where you let your mind wander. Night time is the darkest time in depression. That's when all the demons come out, when you become weaker. It is when you will hurt yourself simply to make the urges stop for 5 minutes. It is when you will spend hours crying or screaming for no reason other than the agony inside. You will shake and feel as though your whole body will cave in or explode. No one will understand. You do not have hospital beds, drips, bandages or needles to make people worry. To make them realize that this sad little girl is actually sick and needs help. Of course the depression will have destroyed any self esteem you might have had, so you'll be too scared to ask for the help you need. You just go on, hoping someone will notice your slow, meticulous self-destruction. Don’t worry, it won’t always be so bad. Some days you might even feel stable. You might walk tall for one day, feeling a glint of hope that maybe one day things will get better, that things are getting better and you have the strength to fight. Then one small thing will go wrong, and you’ll fall apart all over again. You feel stupid for even considering that things could get better. Have you ever felt as though your whole body could just crumble any minute? Just crumble and fall apart, like it’s lost anything it had holding it together. That’s what it feel like all the time to be depressed. That raw fragility. It feels as though the smallest disruption in our life, or in your head, or in the world, could send everything spiraling downwards. And it can. The tiniest mistake can cause you to hate yourself more than you could possibly imagine. The smallest crack in your world can make it all seem pointless. Depression destroys any resources you have. Any strength or courage you kept stored away for emergencies. So if the tiniest little storm hits, you are left to trying to survive the ravages of a cyclone without a life boat. It wears you down and even the smallest crack can seem like an earthquake and every minute is spent waiting for the next shake. And then one day, you will find yourself curled up on your bedroom floor, sobbing, because you can’t find anything to wear. Every little thing is just more proof of how worthless you are. Eventually, you begin to expect it. You anticipate the bad times, because you know the good times are just fooling you. And they are filled with fear and anxiety over when everything will come crashing down again. You are always waiting for the next breakdown. You’ve become so accustomed to feeling miserable, that happiness is a foreign feeling that you won’t even let yourself experience. You don’t deserve it. So you become numb, which at times, is worse than the full-blown screaming and crying depressive ‘episodes.’ You find yourself begging to hurt again, because any feeling is better than feeling nothing at all. Depression is one of the cruelest of all illnesses. You see, it’s much easier to fight when you can see an end to it all. When you know that in the end you will either win or lose. But whatever the outcome, the war will be over. The thing about depression is it blurs your perception of the future and makes it near impossible to see that end. You start to think that there’s no such thing as ‘winning’ and why bother fighting if you already know the outcome. It gradually strips you of any hope you previously had. And without hope, it’s difficult to see a future or a reason to fight. 06/27/2004
Continue reading...
8
A virus lives quietly Until one day it appears As suddenly as a madman Raging in the desert In quest of methamphetamine. Or an outlaw on ***** Shooting up streets And striking people down. It has no origin we can see, No place that it calls home, But ravages civilizations And adopts their clothing, Wears their armour And steals their ships, Like the Sea Peoples Of ancient times. Feared even by god-like Pharaohs, The kings of Knossos and The Mycenaean warlords. It attacks the very essence Of its victims, becoming like them. Walking through their streets, Dancing as they do and Welcomed into their houses— Hiding in plain sight. It drifts down as they sleep, And bonds with their cells at night.
0
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 3:11 PM UTC
Stranger
If I die of the Plauge I would want to be remembered Not as a victim But as a healthy And happy If I die of Ebola I would want to be remembered Not as a victim But as a beautiful And diligent girl Who created art. If I die of rabies I would want to be remembered Not as an aggressive victim But someone Who brings compassion And kindness.
0
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
Disease
Symptoms of diseases, Diseases never heard of, Symptoms were pain, agony and tears Tears never shed Diseases which took eras to be discovered, Diseases that lay hidden, Hidden behind smiles Smiles hiding pain, agony and tears Tears never shed Because there was no one to see the tears, Tears lay buried Buried behind 'I'm fine' 'I'm fine' was a cover To shield the delicate heart The heart which was scratched and torn millions of times And millions of times the memories were reminded Memories which were to be forgotten To be forgotten and thrown away Thrown away like the heart was The heart now only had tears Tears never shed Because there was no one to see the tears, Tears left to dry To dry without being wet The heart also dried Dried out and fell Fell like the petals of roses Roses which are only left with thorns now Thorns which ***** and the heart bleeds The heart bleeds the blood of hatred Hatred risen from love Love which led to the diseases Diseases known as heartbreak, dejection and desolation.
0
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
Tears never shed..
I live with many diseases, my life is not simple I don't know which is worse the physical or the mental It depends on the day As to what I will say And on very bad day's it is both Those day's I loathe I stay in my bed And pull the covers over my head And wish that I was dead That being said I just trudge along Wishing I was strong Strong enough to at lest kick one diseases *** Strong enough that I don't relive the past But that is impossible when the past visits you He comes by every year or two And if your wondering how I am today Well ....in my bed I stayed
0
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 11:56 PM UTC
My Diseases
The very worst of demons are the ones that can't be destroyed because they are a part of you
0
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC
Untitled
Cuter than those With the plague, or rabies, Or fungusy toes, Or a bad case of scabies, Or one extra nose, Are zombified babies. O.O
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
Cuter than Those
*What if I tell you that This world is going to end And that end is not too far, You probably won’t believe me. Allow me to take you to a journey A journey to the end of the world. A world without a hint of greenery. A world with all sorts of armaments but no food and water. A world congested with people. A world infected with diseases. A hot world on the verge of a cold war. A world with numerous machines but no fuel to run. A world with no shred of humanity.*
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
A Journey To The End Of The World
she was a fierce girl: her wild, red hair stood out among the rest her hazel eyes sparkled despite the angsts. she worked hard, refusing to sell herself, even if his deadline was nearing. (she promised him.) her hope and naivety were smashed into pieces as she slowly ran out of time. (his time.) without his knowledge, she degraded herself. ("As long as it's for you, this pain doesn't hurt me.") her health deteriorated as his became better. curled up in a corner, naked and bare, she counted the money she earned. and smiled. he was a plain boy: his brown hair wouldn't stay flat his blue eyes, dull. he thought of others before of himself and that's why she fell in love. (it was the same for him too.) he collapsed one day, pain spreading on his chest. (he knew that that was it.) he tried denying her support, but her earnest eyes refused to let him. ("Laughing with you by my side—I'll be fine with just this.") he slowly became better, and he planned all sorts of trips for the both of them. they'd go have a romantic dinner by the beach in summer, they'd spend new year's cuddled up together, hot chocolate warming them up. after his surgery, he searched for her—his heart, filled with gratitude he never found her again. the scar on his chest would never fade.
0
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 7:01 AM UTC
from the deepest corners of my heart
it’s the skin disease that is my sickness It’s the red dots (hurtings, blemishes, scars) and not my face I see It’s the d e s p e r a t i o n on display of my insecurities, and so it worsens my insecurities The hermeneutic circle; fact is fact So, on my face desperation is visible sadness in my mind; emptiness in body; — but explosions on my face That is all I see It's all I am. I am a sickness. august 2014
0
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
Acne,
People are not flat and uninteresting, they are more than their sexuality, more than their race or ethnicity, they are more then their diseases and their disorders, a person should not be judged based on a single factor of their lives, they shouldn't be hated for loving a show or finding comfort in reading something you may not particularly care for at all, people are more than their singular qualities, People are complex, People are beautifully and undeniably complex in a thousand bound and unbound wires that knot and twist and turn to form a being, People are not these things at all, People are these things as a whole.
0
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
People are not
we live in a world of concrete who needs trees anyways? we're happy with our gases the ones that suffocate us but not as much as the fresh air. who needs a healthy environment anyways? we have our hospitals and cures to diseases. peace of mind? that's been eradicated completely and quite successfully might i add. because life's just not fun without any complications and in our case, they're not even natural.
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
a world of concrete