Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#report
I’m seventeen, moving from class to class with a backpack full of “almost.” Almost good enough grades. Almost the right choices. Almost the person everyone wants me to be. My parents sigh before they speak. My teachers write comments like has potential as if potential is supposed to feel like praise and not a reminder that I’m not there yet. Even my friends sometimes look at me like I missed something— like I didn’t say the right thing, didn’t show up the right way, didn’t get it right. I try. I really try. But it feels like I’m always one step off, one answer short, one version of myself away from being enough. My grades are “okay,” my effort is real, but somehow I still feel like I’m failing at life in ways no report card shows. I carry this quiet fear that no matter how much I do, someone will always be disappointed. And after a while, you start wondering if the problem isn’t what you do— but who you are.
0
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 10:46 AM UTC
Who You Are...
Describing the world as I understand it perhaps as I wish it to be Observing myself, the world and the people who hold their own among themselves, so intently that I remember it and can pass it on as if the readers are getting a view into them, into me, and into themselves seeing how little it means the work, the achievements, and even less so the erudition of the show-offs and the self-importance of the managers and society
0
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 2:20 AM UTC
Inside view
Guys don't open any messages from sgg. In inbox please report as the message they send is linked to a virus. Please report and block so we can crack down on this asap.
0
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 3:41 PM UTC
Scam inbox mail
Allies: absent /Beauty: botched /Curiosity: crushed /Dreams: defeated /Energy: extinguished /Friends: forgotten /God: gone /House: haunted /Ideas: idle /Journey: jinxed /King: killed /Land: lost /Memories: mangled /Names: neglected /Opinions: opposed /Prayer: prohibited /Quest: questioned /Reason: rejected /Smiles: stripped /Truth: trampled /Update: unfinished
0
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 11:03 AM UTC
Reporting With the Latest Updates
Wide eyes Big dreams Small cries Sad, it seems Strong hope Scattered mind Can’t cope That’s all I can find
0
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 10:21 PM UTC
Report
We were expecting so much more The weather report said it would just pour The clouds came in and it started to roar The winds followed next and left it's own score The thunder made due as it rolled out its snore The storm was here and it wanted much more It wasn't as bad as the weather report The storm sort of fizzled and ran a bit short It laid down some snow with a hint of haze It could have been worse as the report displayed The scare was gone as the storm blew out Back to clear weather without any doubt... Brian Hill - 2019 # 298
0
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 9:47 AM UTC
Storm
A mind full of patterns In every which way. Crawling, Scrawling, And cycling On my walls. Waves of colors burst And I forget myself. Fly into my spiritual dimension And ascend. Then it ends. And I feel some clarity And comfort Wash over me.
0
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC
Ego death
I experienced and I wrote: When I think of you I feel like I am going to cry. Well, I don't cry but my stomach decides to cave in and collide with some sort of fluttering that feeds into my lungs my heartbeat turns into more of a tick into my stomach a small rock is dropped it rolls around at the bottom slowly it gets hot the heat spreads up my throat and across my chest radiating down to where my elbows meet the inside of my forearms from there, the energy pulses to my fingertips its like buzzing but with the addition of tiny little ****** I feel that in my wrists The heat grows heavier on my chest now I feel it a bit behind my eyes my hands that pulsed now throb along with my thighs now the rock in my stomach decides to put press up on my spine it tickles in a way that makes me want to laugh to relieve the pressure I laugh but laughing leaves me feeling winded my esophagus now thinly coated with a foggy thickness the word that comes to mind when I think of it is dread my spine is now a magnet that my ribs want to meet I breathe out they sink back towards my spine, reaching for something my breathing feels forced but at the same time I can't control it my thighs feel warm and almost swollen my feet are already cold each hair on my head seems to gain a pulse certain ones even feel electric the stinging in my nose tries to curdle my expression I try not to let it but my nose wants my cupid's bow and my jaw wants the corners of my mouth the rock shifts around again, renouncing itself my ribs suddenly collapse causing my to inhale my own exhaled breath the stinging in my nose rides up behind my eyes and (this is where I usually stop it, often with speech or with another laugh images carry away sensation I place them back into those mental pictures of pastimes and things potential and things yet to come, replacing the label with "sadness" with "hope" knowing now that the rock is just my heart, it finds its way back up to the tiny box where it beats on the walls, constantly trying to find its way back out I remember that hearts do good I remember my lips, only then do I realize that they had gone numb I think of warmth the stinging in my arms, the picks and the pulses in my fingertips those are the only things I can't beat the energy at the inside of my elbows goes back up to my chest and  hovers over my heart the hovering feeling never goes away but I remember this energy is mine to live with and move on) but if I don't stop, if there is a sense of weakness to my day I feel the urge to smile almost the burning in my eyes gets hotter, it usually comes in bursts my vision turns to stained glass the rock starts punching its way up my spine my lower eyelids want to sink back towards my face, my eyebrows try to tie themselves in a bow I try not to blink now If I'm lucky, my eyes tear up If I'm not, tears roll down my stainless masterpiece ruined by a contorted, conflicted smile-frown I feel air on my tears I breathe out and remember thought my hands want to hold my arms want to hug my lips are numb but they know jut as well that the catalyst has come full circle on this one, love
0
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 8:50 PM UTC
an experimental report: the physical sensation of missing you
I experienced and I wrote: When I think of you I feel like I am going to cry. Well, I don't cry but my stomach decides to cave in and collide with some sort of fluttering that feeds into my lungs my heartbeat turns into more of a tick into my stomach a small rock is dropped it rolls around at the bottom slowly it gets hot the heat spreads up my throat and across my chest radiating down to where my elbows meet the inside of my forearms from there, the energy pulses to my fingertips its like buzzing but with the addition of tiny little ****** I feel that in my wrists The heat grows heavier on my chest now I feel it a bit behind my eyes my hands that pulsed now throb along with my thighs now the rock in my stomach decides to put press up on my spine it tickles in a way that makes me want to laugh to relieve the pressure I laugh but laughing leaves me feeling winded my esophagus now thinly coated with a foggy thickness the word that comes to mind when I think of it is dread my spine is now a magnet that my ribs want to meet I breathe out they sink back towards my spine, reaching for something my breathing feels forced but at the same time I can't control it my thighs feel warm and almost swollen my feet are already cold each hair on my head seems to gain a pulse certain ones even feel electric the stinging in my nose tries to curdle my expression I try not to let it but my nose wants my cupid's bow and my jaw wants the corners of my mouth the rock shifts around again, renouncing itself my ribs suddenly collapse causing my to inhale my own exhaled breath the stinging in my nose rides up behind my eyes and (this is where I usually stop it, often with speech or with another laugh images carry away sensation I place them back into those mental pictures of pastimes and things potential and things yet to come, replacing the label with "sadness" with "hope" knowing now that the rock is just my heart, it finds its way back up to the tiny box where it beats on the walls, constantly trying to find its way back out I remember that hearts do good I remember my lips, only then do I realize that they had gone numb I think of warmth the stinging in my arms, the picks and the pulses in my fingertips those are the only things I can't beat the energy at the inside of my elbows goes back up to my chest and  hovers over my heart the hovering feeling never goes away but I remember this energy is mine to live with and move on) but if I don't stop, if there is a sense of weakness to my day I feel the urge to smile almost the burning in my eyes gets hotter, it usually comes in bursts my vision turns to stained glass the rock starts punching its way up my spine my lower eyelids want to sink back towards my face, my eyebrows try to tie themselves in a bow I try not to blink now If I'm lucky, my eyes tear up If I'm not, tears roll down my stainless masterpiece ruined by a contorted, conflicted smile-frown I feel air on my tears I breathe out and remember thought my hands want to hold my arms want to hug my lips are numb but they know jut as well that the catalyst has come full circle on this one, love
Continue reading...
64
A  failure, He was made with our failure to listen and was released by our faults
0
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 2:59 PM UTC
Note to Readers:
On this day The world can see clearly The lies That we knew Were told And sold To the people On this day The photographs Tell deeper truths As bereaved mothers Hold pictures of their departed sons On this day The self righteous leader Is named by one as The worst terrorist of all On this day The people Are at a loss To know Whom to trust On this day Although my heart sinks low And I grieve At all loss I will try to believe That we can change
0
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
On this day
7:30PM, October 9, 2015, 65*F, 10mph breeze, 5% humidity (somehow 10% where I was sitting), 50.0001% chance of rain, dark, cold, late, loud...I think that's enough. Alright! Spoiler alert, Birkston High won the game. If you simply have ears you've known that for a while (many of us who were at the game don't). All the people in Grenfolkshire were there, so there were some empty bleachers, but the Student section was full and lively, and did I say loud, because LOUD....! My ears were ringing (at a B8 note, for the musically overcurious people) for three days straight. I think it was a healthcare tactic, dare I say it. All those figurehead townspeople were there as well, like Mayor Arnofold Plattersbury with his orange jumpsuit, waving a pompom in the air like he just didn't care. Really, he didn't-I got whacked in the head with it eleven times. Recently, after taking a recent poll on the recent event, it was found that only about 35% of people really knew what happened, a number that has declined, recently. This very well is contributed to 1.) most of the people are there for the free food and don't exactly major in football 2.) teenagers are highly social creatures 3.) a bunch of hands in the air and six foot tall mammoths standing on the bleachers will tend to block the view of the people who are five foot small. The freshmen had a real problem on their heads. Nevertheless, the Wildcats found themselves with the bell for another year, whether they knew it or not. The Panthers found themselves nose-in-the-dirt, tail-dragging, while we found ourselves filing out like a herd of wild penguins onto the field.
0
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
The Battle for the Taco Bell
7:30PM, October 9, 2015, 65*F, 10mph breeze, 5% humidity (somehow 10% where I was sitting), 50.0001% chance of rain, dark, cold, late, loud...I think that's enough. Alright! Spoiler alert, Birkston High won the game. If you simply have ears you've known that for a while (many of us who were at the game don't). All the people in Grenfolkshire were there, so there were some empty bleachers, but the Student section was full and lively, and did I say loud, because LOUD....! My ears were ringing (at a B8 note, for the musically overcurious people) for three days straight. I think it was a healthcare tactic, dare I say it. All those figurehead townspeople were there as well, like Mayor Arnofold Plattersbury with his orange jumpsuit, waving a pompom in the air like he just didn't care. Really, he didn't-I got whacked in the head with it eleven times. Recently, after taking a recent poll on the recent event, it was found that only about 35% of people really knew what happened, a number that has declined, recently. This very well is contributed to 1.) most of the people are there for the free food and don't exactly major in football 2.) teenagers are highly social creatures 3.) a bunch of hands in the air and six foot tall mammoths standing on the bleachers will tend to block the view of the people who are five foot small. The freshmen had a real problem on their heads. Nevertheless, the Wildcats found themselves with the bell for another year, whether they knew it or not. The Panthers found themselves nose-in-the-dirt, tail-dragging, while we found ourselves filing out like a herd of wild penguins onto the field.
Continue reading...
1
Getting tired of these Skype numbers and random letters Engulfing the posts on this site.
0
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Rant
Today -Clear skies. No pigs. (Sorry kid) -Dry. No cats and dogs. (Sorry kid) -Windy. 30mph gusts. (Sorry Gramps)
0
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
Daily Repoort
Cloudy tonight With chance of fear 70%   Tomorrow tears likely , 90% chance with thunderpoems possible by evening , some severe Emotional downpours may occur Those living with low lying esteem Should seek higher ground
0
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Thunderpoems
What is the meaning of a letter? They resemble the severity of the talk of the shame of the crying Or maybe they mean laughter happiness hope What is the meaning of a plus or minus? a plus or minus can ether mean life or death. Ink. You grow up knowing that red automatically means F in recent years I learn that its the colors like yellow purple pink that symbolize the F. The harsher the mark, the better the grade. Shouldn’t it be the other way?
0
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
Grades