#echos
it has taken residence in my mind
seeping into the cracks
and has gotten into the echos of my sleep
what have I done for this to happen
it is wasp on a mission to protect from harm
but what is the harm that is done
all that I did was live my life
all I did was live
now it is coming back to me in flashes
like fireflies in the night
lighting up in my brain at different points in the night
as if it were the previews at the movies
now showing:
everything that you have lived to regret and wish to change
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 1:01 PM UTC
Always forgotten
Always dismissed
Why can I hear my shadow hiss
A vagabond through & through
Finds solace in a tree that’s rotten
None dare to enter the rabbit hole
Yet, it seems I have no control
Wonderland, wonderland
Chasing echos that sound like commands
Praying that it’s not too late
But their eyes were already filled with hate
-PM
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 9:35 PM UTC
I've lost your voice.
The world has gone silent.
All I hear are endless
echos bouncing from the walls of my mind.
I only wish to hear it
One last time.
Jul 23, 2025
Jul 23, 2025 at 8:47 PM UTC
Echos of the forgotten children
dance along the
breeze.
With tired eyes and weary smiles
as they
sleep along the streets.
No kind words or helping hands
from the strangers
passing by,
just echos of forgotten children
an
endless
hopeless cry.
Nowhere to turn, no place to run.
Just lonely
damaged souls.
They try to hide or numb the pain
of being left out
in the cold.
Years its been,
since they felt warmth;
most do not remember love.
So the echos of forgotten children
are quietly swept,
under
the rug.
Their tears trace familiar paths
across their
*****
cheeks.
The echos of forgotten ones
that sleep along
the streets.
Its cold its dark,
they are alone.
They fear the end
is soon.
So they numb their pain
in any way
even if it brings their
doom.
The echos of forgotten children
forced to grow up
much to fast,
dance their way
through lonely streets.
Reminders of
their
tragic
past.
Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 6:15 PM UTC
You left me — but your voice lingers still,
a quiet echo threading the hollow of my chest.
Each word, a ghost — soft as smoke,
yet heavy as stones I cannot lay down.
Tell me — does absence end a presence,
or do the shadows of love remain,
like paintings in an empty gallery,
etched into the silence of who we were?
In every corner of my mind,
your words move like uninvited guests,
rearranging memories,
leaving traces where you once filled every space.
If love is gone —
why does my heart still tune itself
to the phantom murmurs of your voice,
waiting, endlessly,
for a silence that heals?
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 11:53 AM UTC
i keep forgetting to breathe,
forgetting to take in the oxygen
that keeps me alive.
the world doesn't know,
doesn't know the pain in my chest
that drags me under.
will you listen please,
my heart echos like
lightning and thunder.
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 8:09 PM UTC
I stand alone in my mind. A spotlight shines down on me.
Portraying what I am really doing.
Staying.
Lost.
I have no thoughts just an endless echo of silence.
Fueled by hate, pain and sorrow.
Which to feel first?
It’s not like I smile anymore.
My smile was beautiful, it was simple.
Though it was so sincere, content and pure.
If only I could smile like that,
Would I be able to get out?
The world keeps moving forward.
Just like the seasons, pushing towards winter, everyone around is moving.
I’m stuck. I can’t move my legs.
In cement locked in place with no one around to rescue me.
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 7:59 PM UTC
Like a ripple...
Spreads the inner arrogant statements of self
Which you'd never tell someone else
Because even sounding them out sounds loud
But you believe in them still
In the quiet subconsciousness of self
Like the echoings of an inner cavern
There is something there
Because something that once cast shadows fell
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 6:10 PM UTC
there are days i long for
the allure of philosophy.
writing.
a less personal affair,
but only to a degree.
rather than what i do.
such responsibility, to hold
another's fragile mental
stability within the palm
of my hand!
i am no healer, i do not
offer cures. no. the
gravitation i hold
is simply an
e
c
h
o
of everything
which shall always
be nothing more than
the reverberation of my soul.
i am not a poet.
my mother tongue is not
within clever word
play or meter.
i speak the words of the
effervescent
cosmic tapestry
within the singing
of the spheres.
there is a quiet history in
that celestial symphony,
an Edda of instrumental
humming all that
was and shall be.
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
Someone help me
Help the world
These people, stop them
They're tearing it apart
Someone help me
Help the world
It's falling down
Can't you feel it
Someone help me
Help the world
The echos of a failure
Ring louder ev'ry day
Someone help me
Help the world
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Walang forever sa taong bitter
Pero pano ka naman di ma bbitter
Kung yung ex mo kasi cheater
Sa una lang magaling
Susundin lahat ng hiling
Kala mo naman gwapo. FEELING!
Chos. Gwapo nga siya
Kaya nga lapitin ng disgrasya
Ubos ang pera sa’king alkansya
Ginagasta pang dota niya
Pati sa ibang babae. Walanghiya!
Susumbong ko siya kay kuya.
Minahal ko yun nang todo
Matalino ako pero naging bobo
Ang dali niya pala akong naloko
Siya pa nakipaghiwalay
Sa chat pa. Jusq dai!
Walang itlog ka bai.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
He let them win
Somehow their repetitive chatter & noise crept right in
Quietly & unseen they anchored their lies & fabrications
Truths were quickly fading into arguments & altercations
In his head their noise just echos & echos in a shout
He battled & fought, but it wasn't well enough to keep them out
The echos only got louder & louder
More & more he began to doubt her
Thoughts began dwelling
The echos were now just yelling
Hoping truth he'd soon forget
& Trusting was something he'd always just regret
Proud of what they've done
The echos thought they've won
But his thoughts weren't able to convince his heart & soul
He knew without her, he would never be whole
Feelings, really now, this time they were true & real... truly not a chance to break
& As for the echos.....well they were just a silented mistake
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
I hope that the
Bread
Tastes good,
Because I’ve left my
Bones
In “it.”
I’ve left the bones born
Man
And bones born
Woman,
Bones once a baby
And bones now broken,
Bones bitter,
Bones bled,
And soon bits baked
Only by dust,
In “it.”
I hope that it
All
Tastes great,
Because we’ve all chained our
Souls
To “it;”
And “it” will continue to feast,
Come the hours we’d ‘ever starve,
“It” will continue to oppress
And until we say “no!”
So say, "NO!"
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
The sound of feet is isolated in the tunnel.
Echoes of the slow steps of many fill the narrow space.
We march in silence.
Alone among the many.
We do this odd ambitious walk twice daily.
Twice daily this space is filled with the sound of the travelers and the workers.
And what about the times that betwixt the twice daily commute?
An ambiance like no other.
A roaring silence.
For those who have march here
They leave behind an echo,
an imprint of sort.
More ghostly than any ghost.
Haunting these tunnels with their essence
When the sound of feet is not present.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
We all know that
Death
is inevitable.
And somehow it
always
comes as a surprise.
Prayers in whispers
echo
among lonely halls,
as if mocking our
mortality
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC