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Well, the night is long,  
and the silence stings,  
messages like whispers,  
caught on invisible strings.  
How will you know what to do,  
when the truth feels like a game,  
and the words that fall from your lips,  
are just echoes of shame?  

In this world of quick decisions,  
where every glance can deceive,  
the heart wears a mask,  
and the soul learns to grieve.  
A liar’s tongue can spin a tale,  
but the heart knows the score,  
underestimate the shadows,  
and you’ll find you’re wanting more.  

Oh, we’re different features  
of the same old face,  
chasing memories like ghosts,  
in this empty, crowded space.  
Time’s a thief in the night,  
it moves like a restless tide,  
risking everything for a moment,  
when the truth can’t be denied.  

So we reach across the darkness,  
with hands that tremble and shake,  
searching for that flicker,  
in a world that feels so fake.  
And when the morning breaks,  
with the dawn’s gentle light,  
we’ll find the strength to rise,  
and make our shadows bright.
Pick-up sticks and ashes
All that’s left behind
When hurricanes and forrest fire
Have done their deadly work.

Broken people searching  through
The rubble that is left
Of happy hours in former lives,
Hoping to find a keepsake

Something that will tie them to
The place they used to live
And give them strength to persevere
And somehow build a life again.
ljm
The tragedies seem to never end.
I hate the sunset tonight
it shines for the children
for the heroes in all of their might
for the kitten who stares out the window
and for the young lady who cries every night

I hate the sunset tonight because it shines that very same bright for the angry man who does terrible things out of spite
the same bright for ruiners of people's lives
for the person who makes that young lady cry
for the people who believe that some don't deserve rights

I hate it because not everyone deserves to see that light yet it shines just as bright
One of the first poems I ever wrote. I was looking in Google docs for stuff from before this website and come across this.

(This note was written by a light that ate candles and got burnt out.)
What do you want for yourself, future wise?
I want a future in literature,
A doctorate in English arts,
And a lineup of books for people to read.
No, what do you really want?
Okay, I want a loving wife,
A happy home somewhere warm,
And a pair of kids, daughter and son.
What's the point of being great or rich when you have no one to share it with?
The things I do
For your approval
And your excitement
For my accomplishments
Usually aren't healthy
Or good
For me

The things I lose
For your happiness
And your calmness
Usually are the things that make me feel that way

The things I cover up
For your agreement
And support
Usually are the things I care about most

Don't tell me
I'm being disrespectful
When it's simply impossible for you to stay pleased for more than a few moments
I try
And I try
To no avail
I am done trying

I have opinions
Thoughts
Feelings
If you don't like it
Don't see me
That's what I wanted
To begin with
Cleaning up my drafts


A child/teen is a person nonetheless. We are not numbers, possessions, or puppets.
She looks at her from a distance
With admiration and envy
For she's beautiful
She wonders why she couldn't be

That girl being watched
Looks at her
And thanks how she would do anything
To look that way
For she thinks that she is this sicking word;
Ugly
Happened to me the other day, the girl came up to me and told me I was beautiful and how she would **** to look like me. I felt so ugly that day and was watching her thinking the same thing. I told her how she was beautiful and how I was thinking the  same thing about her which left her shocked. It was a nice moment.
He said they all gotta move along -
Go somewhere else from Gaza
“To a fresh beautiful piece of land”.
Well how about Mar a Lago.
That's a beautiful piece of land.
I have another good idea
Golf courses are very fresh and green;
A lot of beautiful open land
Scattered all around the world.
Perfect for the “little houses”
He will instantly provide.
And Gaza?   "We will own it."
      ljm
Panama and Greenland weren't enough?
To me you are the worst person in the world. You abandon me at 9 years old because I had bad behaviour. (Bad behaviour from being sexually abused) I was sexually abused for years and you left me with my abuser. At the time you didn't know. But when I got to be about twenty years old I had gotten comfortable with being able to talk about it because of how many therapists I had told. But then when I built up the courage to tell you, you told me it was all my fault and the argument got so bad the cops were called. When the police arrived they were not happy with you or the situation. And started yelling at you in the kitchen. You fought with them and told them to leave.  You're are so awful and lack any sort of empathy. You left me with no food. Everyday you took my sister and didn't come home until 11:30 pm every night. I was left eating ketchup and mayonnaise sandwiches. YUM!
Now as an adult every special occasion you have to gamble. In fact you gamble almost every second day. You're poor but love money. you fantasize about living in new york. While I fantasize about having a mom I'm able to bond with and have a regular relationship. I can tell you love money more than you love me. They say the root of all evil is the love of money. And I can see how sour it is. It's put me in a place of absolutely hating money I want to be homeless because I can't stand the thought of money.
I take care of you're when you're sick. I make sure you can rest, you have good and something to entertain yourself with. I run to the store when you need anything. Then. Once you're better I start to get the sickness you passed to me and you don't allow me to rest. You will gamble just feet away from my head when I'm tired and sick trying to rest. When I get frustrated with it. You make the biggest ordeal because you're addicted to gambling and lack empathy for others. When I pass any sort of sickness on to anyone I feel terrible. I do my best to offer everything I can to help. It hurts me to say this. But I don't think you deserve to live. You lack empathy for other's and it feels I came from the womb of a psychopath.
All I can hope is that with age I don't turn out to be you.
Getting it off my chest
I heard you moved away
to somewhere warmer
where memories won’t
scar a wounded heart
I heard you’re writing
more often in a
positive light
I heard you found
faith in the solitude
of the desert
I heard you are still
drinking our favourite
red wine
I heard your father
took his own life
I’m sorry for hurting you
I was stained with the
selfishness of youth …
Clay.M
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