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ThePoet 4d
Her body was carved
into hard wooden bones
An easel of flesh in
her light subtle tones
Her face was a portrait
in an essence of white
With virginal eyes of
pure innocent sight

A palette of colors like
the dark hollow shades
A cold stiffened brush
like an acid on blades
The withering petals of
a deflowered disgrace
As black tipped thorns
had pervaded her face

A piece of a gamble
to be auctioned away
A mere illustration
for an open display
The human canvas
left devoid of a word
As artwork is seen but
should never be heard
ThePoet Feb 12
and I’m not sure where the hours went
Wondering if it’s worth it all,
all of the wasted time spent?
Struggling to keep myself around
Plummeting deep into the ground
The line I crossed is where I’m bound
A game of lost and never found

and I’m not sure when it started
Wondering if I deserve it all,
whatever left me broken hearted?
A shallow rise for a deeper low
If I swallow lies then I can’t let go
It’s always yes when it should be no
But I reminisce what I used to know

and I’m not sure how it ended
Wondering if I divert it all,
will I come out the other side mended?
I hide in thoughts buried in my head
Live inside the plots I made up instead
I can’t revive when I know I’m dead
And I won’t survive in the life I’ve led

and I’m not sure if I’m myself again
Wondering if I revert it all,
can I go back in time before it all began?
I knew it’s wrong but it felt too right
I grew so strong but I lost the fight
Intertwined with the depths of night
It’s where I find just a glimmer of light

The silence is deafening when it makes a sound.
ThePoet Sep 2022
They oppose the poor
and the truth tellers,
deflecting modesty
among the crowd

They close the door
with the gossiping sellers,
rejecting honesty
strong and proud
ThePoet Dec 2020
We were gifted sleep so we could only
have visions of madness
And bestowed eyes that would only
cry tears of sadness

We were granted arms so we could only
fend against the violence
And blessed with ears that would only
hear ignores and silence

We were gifted hands so we could only
hold the weight of the earth
And bestowed minds that would only
think less of our worth

We were granted feet so we could only
run away from the dangers
And blessed with hearts that would only
confide in the strangers

We were gifted lives so we could only
plea for our own deaths
And bestowed lungs that would only
breathe meaningless breaths

We were granted mouths so we could only
converse in our screams
And blessed with bodies that would only
feel alive in our dreams
  Jul 2020 ThePoet
As days go by

As poets pass

The friend we make

Who now departs

But as I look back

And reminisce

There's that one friend I made

Who I'll surely miss

Who inspired my writing

Intrigued my mind

To whom the world out there

Was not always kind

Yet wrote on and on

Of love and of pain

Of hope and of sorrow

Which she could not contain

That sparked into words

And roared like a flame

A friend - fellow poet

A star, became

So thank you, my friend

For your inspired works

That set upon this open sky

Explode like fireworks
To ThePoet - Sarah Ahmed. An amazing poet who inspired me to continue writing through her work. I hope you'll continue to provide us with the opportunity to read your poetry and inspire many others to write and continue writing
I'm not saying she's leaving us. This is just what came to mind as I started writing
ThePoet Jul 2020
Why do we use dark impressions
to help heal our broken souls?
When we are simply just killing
what has already been destroyed

Why do we use dark expressions
to help patch our wounded holes?
When we are merely just filling
emptiness within an empty void
ThePoet Jun 2020
The heart never stops sinking
And it’s felt low and immensely
High and intensely

An emotional seizure

The mind never stops thinking
And it’s thought deep and over caring
Cold and overbearing

Death is our leisure
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