#gives
I want to run.
Be free.
Be the little girl they see in me,
but plot-twist happen frequently,
opening your eyes to things you didn't see.
Burning the cheerful into your mind.
If only I didn't once leave that behind.
If I could return to those naive, fun days.
But fun was out and sad was in,
so I figured "well okay."
I dived right in,
singeing my skin,
turning me to the pit.
I was told,
"don't follow your instincts",
so I guess this is what I get.
Now I sit alone,
a pitiful lump of coal,
as a dog without bone,
or soccer ball with no goal.
I'm heading to "God knows where"
on a train called "Oopsy Days,"
and when I arrive,
they will all be amazed.
For I am the writer
who will give them a story,
for I am a lighter,
and my flame gives me glory.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
She could die any day.
Just tip-toe away.
But what would they say?
They still say she's okay.
...They don't say "please stay."
They cry when good men die.
They cry when they are scared.
They cry all the time.
They cry here.
They cry there.
So why?
Why?
Why for her, they don't cry?
Here she will fly between fire and sky,
in an ocean
her only air being devotion.
Life&Death; her only notion.
Is it bad to wish for a potion?
A spell to make this spell go?
She may try so-,
but I just don't know.
Why?
Why?
Why can't they see?
The lost,
the falling,
she's calling
she gives them a sign,
she loses grasp of her life's line.
Why?
Why?
Why don't they cry?
Cry for her.
Care for her!
See her here!
Please..
one tear.
Suppress her deepest fear.
Her pain is not mere.
She WILL fall,
if there is no bridge,
between the buildings in her mind.
She WILL tumble,
down,
if no one holds her hand,
and she get's left behind.
Save her.
Savor her.
For like this she will not last.
Deprived of what she needs,
internally she bleeds.
Cry
for just one day.
Prove to her,
she will be okay.
Teach her,
how to no be alone.
Love her,
don't leave her on her own.
Cry
Don't lie to her.
Don't act so refined.
She knows those lies,
she isn't blind.
And for once,
just for once,
when her thoughts have intertwined,
I beg of you,
I plead of you,
no one leave her behind.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
The iron drips from my fingers.
The man gives out a yell.
The child launches, she launches at me.
Sadly her launch had failed.
I chuckled at her, with no pity.
Her frightened face, what a laugh.
The person she’s crying for isn't worth dying for.
After all,
he was a bad man.
It’s funny, so funny, funny the fact.
The fact, she thought if she grabbed my neck then,
maybe, just maybe, maybe I’d die.
I laughed again and finally, I gave out a sigh.
“Poor child,” I said my voice left unchanged.
“You misunderstood. I shouldn't be ashamed.
Your idol has done so many bad things,
now he’ll pay for his sins of adultery,
in a place which this blind man cannot see.
She fell to the ground befalling her tears.
This was the end of her happy years.
What? Did she think it was a fairy tale life?
Reality is sharp, just like a knife.
I laughed at the fact I took his life,
with just one swing of my most dull scythe.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
Each day is a day like day had before
I don't know if I can take anymore
There's pain in my bones; Weak feeling and sore
I question myself what this life is for
Don't know what's ahead; Don't know what's in store
As happiness hides behind a locked door
The pressure, it builds to find it before
The hourglass now has emptied what's stored
The light from me left; Although I'm not sure
If ever I had a light that was pure
My soul's on death's bed; No hope of a cure
The word's left unsaid; I'll always want more
Waves lapping against the rocky beach shore
Each time takes away; A heavenly chore
Was true of my joy; A tunnel was bored
Inside from my soul true self of me poured
I ********** out myself like a *****
Each day is a lie that I can't afford
I wish I was maimed; Insides had been gored
I can not explain; Knight falls on his sword
But I am no knight; More like one who's poor
Been chewed up, discarded; Fruit with no core
Tried sharing with you; A piece of me tore
But know you disliked; Did nothing but bore
This poem is not new; These words said before
I've whined and cried too like those I deplore
A task left to do; Must settle the score
Each day starts anew; Be happy once more
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
Love is complicated
Love requires patience
Love requires tolerance
Love require honesty
Love requires sacrifices
Love comes with trials
Love comes unexpectedly
It is involuntary
Love hits us like a ton of brick
It cause us to lose control
It cause us to do strange things
It cause us to constantly be around someone
Constantly think of someone
Love make us understand someone
Love gives us hope
Love give us courage
Love make us happy
Love makes us strong
Love makes us weak
Love makes us confused
Love makes us complete
Love is everything.
We, are created to fall in love.
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 9:48 PM UTC
She gives me the love inside her warm beating heart as a meaning of true love for me
She gives me her whole heart
Which I will always truly love her.
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC
Reality gives richness back to those who make it richer.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC
Soup from the great big garden
and we canned it all just so
helped to wear the weather through
when the land was dressed in snow
and checker lesson Saturdays
with two lefties at the board
you helped to teach me fairness
when I lost, and when I scored
you kindled my love of books
and encouraged me to grow
i learned the best ways to say yes
and subtle ways to say HELL no
while writing this I realized
you're one of the few whom I can say
if my young life was a fresh spun bowl
your hands would be covered in clay
i remember most the times we'd play
and in the game of life, "I'm all in"
since you happen to be [MY] grandma
looks like this time I win
but seriously,
there is so much more to speak of
but I have a life to live
and I promise when I am done with it
I'll have taught how a grandma gives.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
as poets
thank the pain
thank the sorrow
for it gives you something to write about
as poets
don't take the beautiful moments for granted
don't be afraid of happiness
because that too is something to write about
as poets
appreciate everything life throws at you
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 8:20 PM UTC
Life lives.
Life dies.
Life laughs.
Life cries.
Life gives up.
Life tries.
But life looks
different through
everyone's eyes.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
I don't know whether im chasing a mirage
I don't know what to do
I don't understand which decision i should take
To make him fall in love again
Time is so cruel
We were so good together
I really don't know what happened
Why he suddenly changed
Im sure i did nothing wrong
But still he is away
I don't know why he is avoiding me
I don't know what's the truth
All i sense,he is with a karmic
But i wonder that im the karmic
Im so confused with his silence
Once i wished to be his twin flame
As i thought he was the one
But now i don't know why i doubt
Is this a nightmare i see
Or is this the reality
That he is betraying me?
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 10:06 AM UTC
Your smile gives hope
Becomes sunrise each morning
Just more beautiful
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 12:00 AM UTC
Faith makes faces shine
Like crumpled tin sheets in the sunlight
Gives the backing of Giants
To those once considered meek
And shows one's own ability to believe
In all that ever could be
Faith brings both warmth and luminosity
To the cold, small, twisted mind of man
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 2:12 PM UTC
The spirit
TESTKASE I STAND
by vwey collectly guessing
I am human like, minds ways work
ways akin to water wu wei more wei
easy am big is use, I use to think we used
to make time keep pace with progress,
to here, precisely, as seekers sent to find,
the mission being, as sought, so found, now
true
what. Exactly, out going, in coming, whying,
trying the spirits, precisely as commanded,
prethinking early readers are as receivers,
re
always, already realized recognition,
messengers in this medium, words, read,
thought, already realized recognition,
reigning gnosis sets fit to courts of acclaim,
rëignitable jots and tittles called immutable,
child of the system, listen,
what art imitates is life,
not the other way, see,
we teach children the truth, young,
may be, winter does not care, this is life.
When our old men can labor no more,
we let them think all day, and then,
where my superstious habits be,
back in no electricity at all days,
not so long ago in Gaza, and Kiev,
well, not so, in Gaza and Kiev,
there was some electricity,
there were, aha, now, there are,
indeed, alive, from beneath the veil,
the wounded Mohammedian boy child,
hidden ****** for heaven's sake, taken,
hidden in old stories, jinn, or engine, ides,
midway summer to autumn, Indian summer,
some called such days, 80 degrees,
in November, on Lake Gitcheegoomee,
some thinking is logical like logos linked
thinking next is bound, ah, we imagine,
knowing if this, then that must be, just so,
the befriended sad old Kipling lover, Kim,
was a favorite, they'd a said, in the trenches,
for real, Kipling, if, he'd known, from
a father's point of utmost imaginable pain,
when asked, once more, why
did the boys get sent to war
for calling the Wind Mariah?
should any ask why we died, tell them
because our fathers lied… old Kip'd say.
The truth in If wishing, if we had been
friends in the common sense boys used
to be the local boys always keeping time
happening as randomly as possible, raising
hell, in fact was not an accident, order bores,
heaven, really? many mansions, no contested
best , we throw our crowns down, then
what's the custom, we get shoes, we
wear'em… seeing alla god's chillen's got'em
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 6:48 PM UTC