#happysad - Hello Poetry

You can't spell friends without ends

0

May 22, 2025

May 22, 2025 at 2:26 PM UTC

Lp_1993

They come and go

You can't spell friends without ends

1

You may not remember But I do The night you said "I kind of miss you."

0

Apr 20, 2019

Apr 20, 2019 at 9:16 PM UTC

Entity_

Untitled (4/19/19)

You may not remember But I do The night you said "I kind of miss you."

4

1 represents my existence on planet earth A good 9 years of innocence childhood fire 9 more to exhibit my love to the girl who lift my heart higher Here is 8 years to begin a new path

0

Nov 12, 2018

Nov 12, 2018 at 11:49 AM UTC

sacred-johnson

1998

1 represents my existence on planet earth A good 9 years of innocence childhood fire 9 more to exhibit my love to the girl who lift my heart higher Here is 8 years to begin a new path

4

I want to hold you And trap you in the sap of these pines Because I know you would not run, You find beauty in the ugliest of places. I want to lock you in a cedar box And leave you be until you beg my name Because I know you like the smell, You always were more with nature than I. I want to hang you up in a great oak For the whole world to see Because I know you think you're wretched, But you're beautiful to me.

0

May 2, 2017

May 2, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC

insomniatrical

Forested

I want to hold you And trap you in the sap of these pines Because I know you would not run, You find beauty in the ugliest of places. I want to lock you in a cedar box And leave you be until you beg my name Because I know you like the smell, You always were more with nature than I. I want to hang you up in a great oak For the whole world to see Because I know you think you're wretched, But you're beautiful to me.

12

The hermit and his hand Sticky fingers and solitude kama sutra of the fingers

0

Jul 1, 2015

Jul 1, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC

Yao

****

The hermit and his hand Sticky fingers and solitude kama sutra of the fingers

3

The Peanuts Christmas Music is already playing on the radio It's impossible to grab a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk with out hearing So many memories it makes me so sad to hear The sound of the piano a part of me hears it, dies inside thinking of those times that are gone but were always kind of sad in the first place But then why does a part of me secretly love this feeling Why does it feel good to be so utterly sad? Similar in effect to the child watching a scary film through strategically placed fingers they do not want to be scared but deep down they secretly love to be afraid Why do we do this to ourselves? And why are most not honest about it? Why are we broken? Or maybe we are not I never liked the Peanuts anyway

0

Nov 7, 2014

Nov 7, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC

josh-bass

Peanuts

The Peanuts Christmas Music is already playing on the radio It's impossible to grab a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk with out hearing So many memories it makes me so sad to hear The sound of the piano a part of me hears it, dies inside thinking of those times that are gone but were always kind of sad in the first place But then why does a part of me secretly love this feeling Why does it feel good to be so utterly sad? Similar in effect to the child watching a scary film through strategically placed fingers they do not want to be scared but deep down they secretly love to be afraid Why do we do this to ourselves? And why are most not honest about it? Why are we broken? Or maybe we are not I never liked the Peanuts anyway

23

she said, you're like the dark you are mysterious I call out for you and something else answers me back there are no friends no lovers just opportunists under covers There is emptiness in content Folly woven deep within success It isn't the darkness that scares us Its the light, or lack thereof at the end. she left me like a continental divide little did I know we were sleeping on a fault line I called out for her but she's too far to hear me now there's no coincidence no second chances just opportunities and circumstance There is emptiness in content Folly woven deep within success It isn't the darkness that scares us Its the light, or lack thereof at the end.

0

Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC

imadeitallup

It Isn't The Darkness

she said, you're like the dark you are mysterious I call out for you and something else answers me back there are no friends no lovers just opportunists under covers There is emptiness in content Folly woven deep within success It isn't the darkness that scares us Its the light, or lack thereof at the end. she left me like a continental divide little did I know we were sleeping on a fault line I called out for her but she's too far to hear me now there's no coincidence no second chances just opportunities and circumstance There is emptiness in content Folly woven deep within success It isn't the darkness that scares us Its the light, or lack thereof at the end.

37

i. in my dream, you ask me to connect your freckles with my 19 coloured pens. i create the constellations reflected in your eyes. you kiss me. i wake up. ii. you ask me to play the bars of the same song that made us both cry and shiver on different continents before we knew each other. i leave the airport the happiest and the saddest i've ever been. happysad. iii. you sing at 3 am at the back of the bus. i sit at the end of the same row. my head hurts from banging against the window while i try to look at the moon, instead of you. iv. we sit on the tram and pretend to fix all your problems. v. i sit up at 2 am and cry at my mistakes. i wonder if i make you the happysad you make me.

0

Mar 28, 2014

Mar 28, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC

madcli

five

i. in my dream, you ask me to connect your freckles with my 19 coloured pens. i create the constellations reflected in your eyes. you kiss me. i wake up. ii. you ask me to play the bars of the same song that made us both cry and shiver on different continents before we knew each other. i leave the airport the happiest and the saddest i've ever been. happysad. iii. you sing at 3 am at the back of the bus. i sit at the end of the same row. my head hurts from banging against the window while i try to look at the moon, instead of you. iv. we sit on the tram and pretend to fix all your problems. v. i sit up at 2 am and cry at my mistakes. i wonder if i make you the happysad you make me.

5