#ends - Hello Poetry

tracking footsteps all the way to death a missioned mind and heartfelt love.

0

May 6

May 6, 2026 at 8:07 AM UTC

nivek

heartfelt love

tracking footsteps all the way to death a missioned mind and heartfelt love.

4

Nothing end poetically, it just ends. It ends and we turn it into poetry. We gather the wreckage, turning shards into verses, smoothing it out with metaphors. All that blood shed was never pretty, it was just red. Staining the earth red without meaning. Yet we write. We write because the silence feels heavier. Because grief demands rhythm. Because if we dont write poems, then it was just suffering. Suffering without meaning.

0

Apr 25

Apr 25, 2026 at 12:46 AM UTC

lexxwrites

it was just red

Nothing end poetically, it just ends. It ends and we turn it into poetry. We gather the wreckage, turning shards into verses, smoothing it out with metaphors. All that blood shed was never pretty, it was just red. Staining the earth red without meaning. Yet we write. We write because the silence feels heavier. Because grief demands rhythm. Because if we dont write poems, then it was just suffering. Suffering without meaning.

15

I have written down our end in my poetry. Promises were bled onto paper, Screaming, crying, yearning. My soul desperately clings onto yours, All the memories are not allowed to Abandon us right here, right now. I still ache in fright, Pieces of me still cling onto the scars That you've left. I scratched them open again, Just so you could heal them, But the more I hurt The further you go away Until I won't see Your soul one day.

0

Apr 14

Apr 14, 2026 at 12:51 AM UTC

Dumba

I deemed the end

I have written down our end in my poetry. Promises were bled onto paper, Screaming, crying, yearning. My soul desperately clings onto yours, All the memories are not allowed to Abandon us right here, right now. I still ache in fright, Pieces of me still cling onto the scars That you've left. I scratched them open again, Just so you could heal them, But the more I hurt The further you go away Until I won't see Your soul one day.

15

I sat by the fountain, watching the sun play out the last moments of summer in the company of young and old, each of us attracted to its laughter. And a voice spoke out of a corner of this retreated peace "It's the end of something. At least the start of something ending. It's the end of many things that you've grown accustomed to, that have grown around you and within you - rooted. And so you may wonder - - will the roots simply die from neglect? (Has that dying already begun from past neglect? Discuss.) Or will you have to find the will to uproot them? - will the pain be worth the excavation? - will the freeing of them better free you? Or will you one day be grateful for the remains of what was? "So, for now, carry the remains. Carry the scars and the stains. Walk with confidence through this ending." I listened to the voice in the quiet. And sat with the fountain a while longer. Knowing I'll find the decision sooner or later. For tomorrow, it was September.

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Aug 31, 2025

Aug 31, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC

stevejeff

August and September

I sat by the fountain, watching the sun play out the last moments of summer in the company of young and old, each of us attracted to its laughter. And a voice spoke out of a corner of this retreated peace "It's the end of something. At least the start of something ending. It's the end of many things that you've grown accustomed to, that have grown around you and within you - rooted. And so you may wonder - - will the roots simply die from neglect? (Has that dying already begun from past neglect? Discuss.) Or will you have to find the will to uproot them? - will the pain be worth the excavation? - will the freeing of them better free you? Or will you one day be grateful for the remains of what was? "So, for now, carry the remains. Carry the scars and the stains. Walk with confidence through this ending." I listened to the voice in the quiet. And sat with the fountain a while longer. Knowing I'll find the decision sooner or later. For tomorrow, it was September.

31

Until death do us part, We do us part until death, Digging our Graves to lay, We will be the seeds here, Unyielding in this garden, Sprouts none to doom, I've dug a garden upside down, Filth by filth I've learnt a thing, Understand this Love, A winters growth is slow, A winters bloom is rare. What use is regret now dear?

0

Jun 20, 2025

Jun 20, 2025 at 11:27 AM UTC

jeremiah-mhlongo

ARITY

Until death do us part, We do us part until death, Digging our Graves to lay, We will be the seeds here, Unyielding in this garden, Sprouts none to doom, I've dug a garden upside down, Filth by filth I've learnt a thing, Understand this Love, A winters growth is slow, A winters bloom is rare. What use is regret now dear?

12

Ignore the sunset, Don't focus on the end of things, The sun will set, yet, You will fade well before, If you worry and fret.

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Apr 7, 2025

Apr 7, 2025 at 8:32 AM UTC

AbbottJHardison

Ignore The Sunset

Ignore the sunset, Don't focus on the end of things, The sun will set, yet, You will fade well before, If you worry and fret.

5

Hug me tight until I can smell you, Comforting as blissful blue, Days have passed; you’ve no clue, How much I longed for you. The warmth of your arms wrapped around me, Those hazelnut eyes - I could only see, Soft hands intertwined with mine, I wouldn’t trade for billions of dime.

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Mar 15, 2025

Mar 15, 2025 at 2:20 PM UTC

keen

A story that never starts but never ends either.

Hug me tight until I can smell you, Comforting as blissful blue, Days have passed; you’ve no clue, How much I longed for you. The warmth of your arms wrapped around me, Those hazelnut eyes - I could only see, Soft hands intertwined with mine, I wouldn’t trade for billions of dime.

13

sunday on a saturday afternoon fills my lungs with soda taste longing flinging through words never said to spit out of my head here i lie on the bedding sunday comes around to feed me to the ground silence waits til i turn to say ‘i found you’ saturday sun on a sweet afternoon week full, ate up my work til i threw up on you what was that last thing we spoke about? like, just wait til it ends just wait til it ends sun sat day to wait til it ends and then you know like it starts on a friday night we’ll tie our hands together over our new tv we’ll watch the stories as they play of a life worth living past sunday life worth living past sunday

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Feb 28, 2025

Feb 28, 2025 at 12:17 AM UTC

greenmintleaves

while waiting to move in with you

sunday on a saturday afternoon fills my lungs with soda taste longing flinging through words never said to spit out of my head here i lie on the bedding sunday comes around to feed me to the ground silence waits til i turn to say ‘i found you’ saturday sun on a sweet afternoon week full, ate up my work til i threw up on you what was that last thing we spoke about? like, just wait til it ends just wait til it ends sun sat day to wait til it ends and then you know like it starts on a friday night we’ll tie our hands together over our new tv we’ll watch the stories as they play of a life worth living past sunday life worth living past sunday

22

In life stories form all informed knowing, be it beautiful adversity universally re-co-known acknowledged with smiles, and nods, sense of yes, I know, I think, I see you think, so, I know, I did finish writing something meaningful; or, be it in every way some other way. I think you may imagine you agree. In conscience used, we take science, knowledge of beauty, chaotic clouds, bending rays of sunshine, evening the heave offering, leaving smooth cool of the day white sugar desert dunes, to an ant or bee. {KJB, viable Bible archetype, declares phonetic remenants of Eber's unconfused use of letters, towb rah translate as good and evil, but better see טוֹברַע good and bad, useful and useless to the point of wasting effort, in a take it easy world, where we know enough, drink, remember when it was, plenty of water, no real enemies yet, and only one barrier, over which those beautiful wild seeds have been carried, by ravens, and doves and rodents who surface only in the night. Let's recall an old told tale, how folks skinned in many colors we continue to be coated with, all lost the knowledge that lying was used, to steal, during lives times when we are parts in wholes, until all things continuing, combine your will to wonder what I imagined I am continuing, with my own will to wander on, meandering through the substance of hope, by my own faith, fi, upright, balanced valence in chemical terms, fit to fight for your right to think wrong, confident my pride has been filed to a point, not my right to be wrong, or do wrong, or lie. To give good reason for cost of learning. The faith that gives reason its point. To tell the truth, sheriffs were good guys, when I was a kid, a wild little goat, indeed, I have seen myself in seven grandchildren and their little heathen friends, so I know, we get more like ourselves, my mother in law said. And now, I keep the peace, wu wei easy knowing towb ra' beautiful efforting life demands in return, for freely eating from all the trees in the garden, thank you.

0

Aug 28, 2024

Aug 28, 2024 at 4:35 PM UTC

kenpepiton

War in Peace, made up

In life stories form all informed knowing, be it beautiful adversity universally re-co-known acknowledged with smiles, and nods, sense of yes, I know, I think, I see you think, so, I know, I did finish writing something meaningful; or, be it in every way some other way. I think you may imagine you agree. In conscience used, we take science, knowledge of beauty, chaotic clouds, bending rays of sunshine, evening the heave offering, leaving smooth cool of the day white sugar desert dunes, to an ant or bee. {KJB, viable Bible archetype, declares phonetic remenants of Eber's unconfused use of letters, towb rah translate as good and evil, but better see טוֹברַע good and bad, useful and useless to the point of wasting effort, in a take it easy world, where we know enough, drink, remember when it was, plenty of water, no real enemies yet, and only one barrier, over which those beautiful wild seeds have been carried, by ravens, and doves and rodents who surface only in the night. Let's recall an old told tale, how folks skinned in many colors we continue to be coated with, all lost the knowledge that lying was used, to steal, during lives times when we are parts in wholes, until all things continuing, combine your will to wonder what I imagined I am continuing, with my own will to wander on, meandering through the substance of hope, by my own faith, fi, upright, balanced valence in chemical terms, fit to fight for your right to think wrong, confident my pride has been filed to a point, not my right to be wrong, or do wrong, or lie. To give good reason for cost of learning. The faith that gives reason its point. To tell the truth, sheriffs were good guys, when I was a kid, a wild little goat, indeed, I have seen myself in seven grandchildren and their little heathen friends, so I know, we get more like ourselves, my mother in law said. And now, I keep the peace, wu wei easy knowing towb ra' beautiful efforting life demands in return, for freely eating from all the trees in the garden, thank you.

48

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Aug 26, 2024

Aug 26, 2024 at 5:04 PM UTC

bettsjc187

~•§•~ Can't Break the Cycle ~•§•~

7

Emerson and Fuller, Thoreau and Whitman, Again and again, it has been written: Nothing ever ends, death is no Impasse; So when you’re gone we’ll look for you, In our Leaves Of Grass.

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Jul 30, 2024

Jul 30, 2024 at 11:44 AM UTC

IntrudedByTheReal

Whitman

Emerson and Fuller, Thoreau and Whitman, Again and again, it has been written: Nothing ever ends, death is no Impasse; So when you’re gone we’ll look for you, In our Leaves Of Grass.

7

Be the recluse, Be the hermit, And make your assessments of others Based on short and fleeting interaction, Drenched in the sweat of "purpose" & "agenda," And be met with statements Which really convey nothing and rarely Encapsulate honest thought in brevity But are said only to end the conversation. Close knit, The threads choke, Living your turtleneck life. No collar to be turned up, The cotton already hugs your throat; Nothing to end abrupt, That which never saw its start. Those who talk Simply to hear themselves, Do they have anything to say? Those with the blinders on, They never see the entrance ramp Neither the turn-offs Till it's too late.

0

Jul 9, 2024

Jul 9, 2024 at 10:11 AM UTC

manx-kronos-pragna

U.S. Interstate

Be the recluse, Be the hermit, And make your assessments of others Based on short and fleeting interaction, Drenched in the sweat of "purpose" & "agenda," And be met with statements Which really convey nothing and rarely Encapsulate honest thought in brevity But are said only to end the conversation. Close knit, The threads choke, Living your turtleneck life. No collar to be turned up, The cotton already hugs your throat; Nothing to end abrupt, That which never saw its start. Those who talk Simply to hear themselves, Do they have anything to say? Those with the blinders on, They never see the entrance ramp Neither the turn-offs Till it's too late.

23

This story that began with hope I hope will end with hope Feels hopeless I gave up looking for answers, now I hope to find a way to cope Denied access The last ounce of hope left left when I decided to revisit dope Again, I retrogress This cat and mouse between hope and despair is an exhausting trope I'm breathless Dark thoughts fill the space left by hope, time to hide the rope Chased by darkness I don't even know exactly what sparked this But I'm sure to end up heartless regardless That's just me being honest ©2024

0

May 24, 2024

May 24, 2024 at 1:11 PM UTC

bettsjc187

~•§•~ How Honest is Honesty, Honestly? ~•§•~

This story that began with hope I hope will end with hope Feels hopeless I gave up looking for answers, now I hope to find a way to cope Denied access The last ounce of hope left left when I decided to revisit dope Again, I retrogress This cat and mouse between hope and despair is an exhausting trope I'm breathless Dark thoughts fill the space left by hope, time to hide the rope Chased by darkness I don't even know exactly what sparked this But I'm sure to end up heartless regardless That's just me being honest ©2024

14

Sitting there Supporting a friend Dropping the note Handing it over To him... For a moment Things are okay All is still Then The storm breaks loose Standing Bash it against the wall Punch it, over and over Then storming away Pulling off the covers Throwing it aside Bolting... I walk Away Hide In the bathroom Lock myself in the stall Cornering myself Curled up In a ball Of fear and confusion This is the world we live in This is the way things are I feel it Hitting me Knocking me down Like a wave Where are my feelings? Inside, Finally showing through It kills I destroy what once was I said I didn't feel it He felt it too much I broke him... I broke him... Covering my ears Half an hour later I am found "Kid? Kid?" "Hey, I found her!" "Hey, it's okay, it wasn't your fault." "Come here, it'll be okay." Held by those who love me This cause The hurricane Is loved? I had a feeling in my stomach that I hated Hearing it made it lurch He promised He wouldn't try But there they were They stopped it Held it together All let loose Ran, bolted Eventually brought away Safe... But what is safe? Just promise You won't try again... Just promise You'll be okay... Just promise You'll move on... I know he'll never read this Never see through my eyes Even so I care... Just know I care... I'm sorry... I just couldn't live a lie Crippled by who I am And what I have become What I did Ended It almost cost a life... - Jay M May 20th, 2019

0

Jan 12, 2023

Jan 12, 2023 at 10:14 PM UTC

Wandering_Spirit

Ends

Sitting there Supporting a friend Dropping the note Handing it over To him... For a moment Things are okay All is still Then The storm breaks loose Standing Bash it against the wall Punch it, over and over Then storming away Pulling off the covers Throwing it aside Bolting... I walk Away Hide In the bathroom Lock myself in the stall Cornering myself Curled up In a ball Of fear and confusion This is the world we live in This is the way things are I feel it Hitting me Knocking me down Like a wave Where are my feelings? Inside, Finally showing through It kills I destroy what once was I said I didn't feel it He felt it too much I broke him... I broke him... Covering my ears Half an hour later I am found "Kid? Kid?" "Hey, I found her!" "Hey, it's okay, it wasn't your fault." "Come here, it'll be okay." Held by those who love me This cause The hurricane Is loved? I had a feeling in my stomach that I hated Hearing it made it lurch He promised He wouldn't try But there they were They stopped it Held it together All let loose Ran, bolted Eventually brought away Safe... But what is safe? Just promise You won't try again... Just promise You'll be okay... Just promise You'll move on... I know he'll never read this Never see through my eyes Even so I care... Just know I care... I'm sorry... I just couldn't live a lie Crippled by who I am And what I have become What I did Ended It almost cost a life... - Jay M May 20th, 2019

84

The whole body is a heart, The whole heart supplies the body, Never secure the truth with a lie, For lies corrupt the whole, Foundation should be solid and pure, Every truth from a liar is void, Here now lays ruins, the body aches, The heart is sore with its echoes.

0

Sep 26, 2022

Sep 26, 2022 at 2:52 PM UTC

jeremiah-mhlongo

CITE

The whole body is a heart, The whole heart supplies the body, Never secure the truth with a lie, For lies corrupt the whole, Foundation should be solid and pure, Every truth from a liar is void, Here now lays ruins, the body aches, The heart is sore with its echoes.

8

Remember that all things fade. All creatures must have an end To bear new beginnings. And all new beginnings Come from resolution.

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Jan 29, 2022

Jan 29, 2022 at 12:42 AM UTC

kelsey-12

A Quote From My Novel

Remember that all things fade. All creatures must have an end To bear new beginnings. And all new beginnings Come from resolution.

5

I woke up and forgot it was October On the front steps, I shook a little less Than the last time we decided to rush A season, shaking branches and wearing Sweaters with the sun beating down Tomorrow, it still won’t feel like home But I am learning that nothing does Except for autumn and that first cool morning Where the air smells like it did when I was ten Before I knew that life would ever feel as unreal As it does now, standing on one side of a door Stirring up the courage to pull it shut

0

Oct 5, 2021

Oct 5, 2021 at 11:06 AM UTC

madisen

1/31

I woke up and forgot it was October On the front steps, I shook a little less Than the last time we decided to rush A season, shaking branches and wearing Sweaters with the sun beating down Tomorrow, it still won’t feel like home But I am learning that nothing does Except for autumn and that first cool morning Where the air smells like it did when I was ten Before I knew that life would ever feel as unreal As it does now, standing on one side of a door Stirring up the courage to pull it shut

12

If raindrops are formed from our chats, The silly memes we sent one another, Before hating each other became habit, Surely, it might not rain again. For the better…

0

Aug 25, 2021

Aug 25, 2021 at 12:57 AM UTC

coffee-with-cream

It might not rain again

If raindrops are formed from our chats, The silly memes we sent one another, Before hating each other became habit, Surely, it might not rain again. For the better…

4

for if one day, one day, we're destined to meet again let's pretend, that you and I, vous et moi, are complete strangers who stumble upon one another for the very first time. for the history of us, the you and I of the old renaissance, the you and I, who even made Paris and Helen envious has ceased to exist.

0

Aug 20, 2021

Aug 20, 2021 at 5:50 AM UTC

eye-vivre

étrangers.

for if one day, one day, we're destined to meet again let's pretend, that you and I, vous et moi, are complete strangers who stumble upon one another for the very first time. for the history of us, the you and I of the old renaissance, the you and I, who even made Paris and Helen envious has ceased to exist.

12

You drag me along Fields of glass Pushing my face in the Shards resembling dirt To your crystal cliff Release me down The spectral drop Might be beautiful If it weren’t the end

0

Jul 23, 2021

Jul 23, 2021 at 12:06 PM UTC

Icksalan

Glassworks

You drag me along Fields of glass Pushing my face in the Shards resembling dirt To your crystal cliff Release me down The spectral drop Might be beautiful If it weren’t the end

9

love always start with yourself or maybe ends with others

0

Mar 11, 2021

Mar 11, 2021 at 10:53 PM UTC

leeaaun

how your love starts?

love always start with yourself or maybe ends with others

3

The sun and the moon In the same sky, not left out In the cold darkness

0

Feb 1, 2021

Feb 1, 2021 at 12:50 AM UTC

aditya-roy

Love is... (Haiku)

The sun and the moon In the same sky, not left out In the cold darkness

3

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌, 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖬𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈'𝗌, 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗒, 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇? 𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝖲𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇, 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌.

0

Dec 8, 2020

Dec 8, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC

jeremiah-mhlongo

In Between Ink

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌, 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖬𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈'𝗌, 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗒, 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇? 𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝖲𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇, 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌.

10