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 Oct 2016 Tasha
Rapunzoll
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

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my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Charles Bukowski
some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Mysidian Bard
I've seen the people
They have tombstones in their eyes
Dying to get high
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Mysidian Bard
Our stars light the sky
In the gathering dark of
A lonely city
Shout out to Molly for helping me on this one. If you haven't already, please check out her work, she is a wonderful poet! :)

http://hellopoetry.com/mmg/
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Angela Moreno
I'm in love with the fact
That you are in love with me.
But I am not in love with you.
I'm the most selfish person I know.
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Angela Moreno
All the boys talk about her
In the locker room.
They talk about her body,
And her lips,
And they all have different stories.
Sometimes I think I've seen a different girl.
The girl I see at school
Seems much different
From the girl in all the stories.
She seems shy
And sad faced daily.
I can't picture her doing all these things.
I can't even picture her at a party.
I ran into her in the hallway once.
She was coming out of the bathroom,
And it looked like she'd been crying.
I smiled at her,
But she turned her face away.
I've never even heard her speak.
But these guys tell a different story.
They love her,
They say,
They love her,
Because she'll try anything once
If you ask her.
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Angela Moreno
I know I am not in love with you.
But I also know
That you are everything
I have ever looked for
In another person,
And everything I hope to find
Again some day.
Just not you.
It really is a strange thing.
 Oct 2016 Tasha
Angela Moreno
I try not to be offended
Because I know you were drunk.
But I see you look at her
The same way
Even when
You are sober.
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