#freshstart
a fresh start
i haven't had one of those in a while
after being insulted
told my poetry was not art
i could use a fresh start
such an amazing site
not social media,
not quite,
which was what she said i needed
well, susan,
maybe you need social media.
maybe poetry isn't your thing.
i call myself a poet
that is a large title to carry around,
especially since i am so young
i wonder why people talk to me as if i am nothing more
than some piece of trash,
littered on the side of the road.
so i give myself a thing many people give themselves,
a fresh start.
my poetry was something many enjoyed
and i will decide if it is necessary to post it here
not susan
susan
a stranger
i don't know,
i mean, really know
anyone by this name
susan is just a person
out there in the world
who judges people by the words they write
and insults them with the same words
just in a different order.
i'm sure it would be quite difficult to have my account
put "on hold"
stupid
i published a funny conversation
that i had with my poet friend
it was about
writing
and
sleep
or the lack of sleep
and spelling mistakes
nothing bad,
i don't think
nothing inappropriate,
but i am not one to judge that i guess
i wrote some poems
about the way i felt
because as a poet
as a human
with
rights,
i have feelings
and sometimes they feel too big
but susan said
it wasn't poetic
so susan
this is to you
because it doesn't have a rhythm
or a specific structure
let alone correct punctuation or spelling
so,
here it is
susan
Nov 25, 2025
Nov 25, 2025 at 1:26 AM UTC
Fruit uneaten to the seed,
A glance at the heavens
Halting inescapable rot,
Here it lays brown and withered.
A chronic flicker of a lamp
In the corner of the room
A temperament that festers
Frustrated at the change of endeavours,
Waning moons missing pieces,
Resentful, longing for the sun
Indescribable hunger for a glimmer
over torrential nights,
Yearning like a fire
Begs to be fed
Reaching out to darkness
The bed, now half slept.
Restlessness crawls within bones
A tormenting
Unrelenting
Wind in the cold,
A soft low hum within the safety of four
Walls,
An unrecognisable sound
Without an ear, joyful to be here at all.
Fruit will soon bitter with frosty mornings,
Unnurtured,
I plant myself in grounds
Sullen with the season.
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 4:51 PM UTC
He was somber for most of his life
Until one day, he simply said no-
He wanted to explore, to be as he is,
Not swallowing storms just to cope.
So he'll make the changes, and drive all the miles,
Blue eyes lighting up in the sun-
Feeling lighter with every breath,
His traveling soul on the run.
He’ll gather stories of a life well-lived,
Dark days fading into the past-
A history he once held way too tightly,
Now softened by joy at last.
Maybe he’ll sing after drinks at the bar,
Or trade tales with unguarded delight.
And though it’s all so wonderfully new-
You can tell by his face: It’s just right.
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 7:05 PM UTC
"It’s never too late to move on and create the life you’ve always wanted to live."
Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 8:35 AM UTC
tick tick tick
the clock is ticking
closer and closer the day will come
when I leave this school
and never look back
I'll look ahead
at my future
and my new beginning
a fresh start where I can be myself
freely without the fear of judgement
going to a more accepting college
where my identity is more than
a cruel joke
to be used against me
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 1:14 PM UTC
The morning spills through the cracked window,
soft gold brushing against tired skin.
Eyes blink open—not heavy, not lost,
but lighter, as if the night
left with the smoke of yesterday.
No rush, no dread—just breath.
A stretch, a pause, the quiet hum
of a world still turning,
and for the first time in a while,
he wants to turn with it.
The phone buzzes. A name on the screen—
Dad.
He hesitates, then answers.
A familiar voice, steady, warm.
"Son, I just wanted to say... I believe in you."
A lump in his throat,
not of sadness, but something softer—
a thread pulling him back home,
back to himself.
He stands, looks in the mirror.
Not a lost boy, not a failure—
just a man, still walking, still trying.
The city hums as he steps out,
the weight of yesterday left behind.
A crisp shirt, a quiet smile,
the rhythm of feet moving forward.
A new day.
A new fight.
And this time,
he knows he’s not alone.
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 1:51 AM UTC
Two birds
waiting for seeds
squirrels hog the feeder
boy girl cardinals a patient
red pair
Jun 18, 2023
Jun 18, 2023 at 6:40 PM UTC
The face you remember, not that.
The voice you heard, not that.
The laugh you longed, not that.
The scent you recall, not that.
The memory you miss, not that.
This is new, fresh and different.
Let it sink.
Let it sit.
Let it grow.
Let that go.
PLEASE!
Mar 11, 2021
Mar 11, 2021 at 12:18 PM UTC
In this world filled with worry
I hope you find peace in your heart
In this world where heartbreak is just another story
I hope you find courage to have a new start
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 1:29 AM UTC
Everybody has hopes & dreams
Dreams that still do exist
Dreams that are going to be accomplished
Everybody has hopes & dreams
Those dreams feel far but they are closer than you expected..
You know that feeling deep down inside that you can’t explain but it brings a form of good energy...
It’s your hopes & dreams starting to form.
Get ready for the new growth
The new opportunities
The several eye openers
Everything is starting to feel fresh.
Free_ minded_lee🤍
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 6:09 PM UTC
Writing a new book...
With new characters...
And new story line...
I have been fooling myself...
Holding on to an older book...
With past characters...
Which have already wrote new chapters...
Without me...
May be it’s time for me be part of a new book...
And not the rusty old book...
Even though the rusty old book was once my life...
Let you be reference for my new one...
Not my griefs or broken promises...
— Joanna Adam
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
A short walk
Awkward stops
I look through
No window shopping
Just plain criticism.
Fire spitting hate
A long path
Ends abruptly
Because it's unwanted
Past can be
Both excavated
Or buried
Like seeds
Giving rise to
New leaves.
(C) Anavah 2019
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
i can finally breathe again,
no longer does my love for you
restrict the breath fighting to escape my lungs
like a killer's hands
to his victim's neck
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:02 PM UTC
One day I'll be gone
I will leave everything
and everyone behind
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 5:07 AM UTC
True love seeks a silent place,
A peace of unburdened voice,
Where lovers speak face to face
Without the past’s background noise.
Experience digs a pit
Crumbling love’s foundation,
For two lovers must commit
To a brand new creation.
Lessons learned in agony
That true love should leave behind
Are the cruelest irony,
And so hard to leave behind.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 10:00 AM UTC
I am starting afresh, starting new,
not with the many, only with a few.
I left behind what did not grow,
held the door open, asked them to go.
For this year, my head is very clear,
who doesn't uplift you, really ain't your dear.
For this year, my heart is very aligned,
who is not kind, really ain't worth your time.
-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:09 PM UTC
Between last night and this morning,
Between the full moon and sunrise,
When dark descended like a sheet,
And heavy lids covered my eyes,
The stars emerged and receded,
Nocturnal hours ticked away,
A carpet of frost was laid down,
There between last night and today.
Ere dawn blackness interceded,
Taunting me, “Where is your light now?”
Yesterday had been locked away,
And I must start again somehow.
The nightfall came to curse the past,
I embraced it to block the shame,
Because soon the sun will come up,
And I will never be the same.
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 11:36 PM UTC
A fresh rising sun, grass glazed in dew
thhe sweet sweet sound of the robins tune,
Sounds of the storm begin to brew
humming along to thhe robins tune;
inside the palace,
-the guilt,
-the shame,
it grumbles and growls
but you're not the same.
Slaughtering deafening silence
in you,
continue to follow the robins tune.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
A couple hours from now, as we are toasting a farewell to a neoteric past, a new year will emerge from the ashes of 2017. Like a phoenix, it will rise again, and sing sweet songs of new beginnings and manifest hope for a better year. We wait for this day in anticipation praying the months to follow will be anything but a repetition of a life once lived. We convince ourselves that we will be more productive, that we will be more active, and that THIS is the year that will change our lives. So we set New Years resolutions, we mark our calendars with exciting new adventures, we establish new goals and reimagine our old dreams hoping that in this new year, we can accomplish them all. But, for many eager and willing people, months will go by without any true transformation. And as the year draws closer to its end, they are again transfixed by old habits and excuses. Their excitement and determination will have faded into the mundanity of reality setting them back to where they were before. For a new year can’t be the driving force for change. A new year shouldn’t be the starting point for innovation. Because refinement shouldn’t be pushed to a certain date and time. And if someone really wants to revolutionize their life, why wait?
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC