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Sure
It's easy to see broken clocks
aren't ticking
but I prefer broken people
Clocks get stuck
in their last instant
At least people keep on living
 Jun 2017 Vachaspathi
Antionicia
Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
However
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.
there's a poem I have written
that probably makes no sense
to anybody whom would read

it's simply the names of every
person who has made a change
of great influence in my lifetime

most people probably wouldn't
understand it at all, thinking that
it was just a list of random names

but it's the most precious poem I have
//On friends//
There's many people on here who are in this poem. I hope I have shown you that you mean so much to me, even if we haven't met.

I love you all. <3
I am sewing a dress
with the thread of strength,
And knots of ambitions,
And when it’s ready,
Then will iron it
with the remission,
I am sewing my broken soul!

By: Nida Mahmoed.
 May 2017 Vachaspathi
Mariya Sidi
The person in the mirror isn't me
Why is my right on her left
and her left on my right
She smiles at me
I wouldn't smile at me like that
If i were her
She looks me in the eye
though i never look at others like that
Like i know them
If she knew what i knew about me
She won't want to be me
She wouldn't stay either
But then she's still there
She is the only one here for me
There is no one else
But her, me.
I'm here for me.
 May 2017 Vachaspathi
mrmonst3r
This bed is like a coffin
With a burial each night.
I could tell you where
it all went wrong
But it wouldn't make it right.
I'm never worth
Remembering
You each showed me that.
With your pretentious self obsession
Words that always fell flat.
Each day is long and empty.
I cannot find my way,
So forgive me
Graciously
While I slowly fade away.
the magic of poetry.
is that it makes everything
beautiful.
it fills your lungs
like air.
it turns your soul
into a sky full of stars.
your heart
a field of wildflowers.
you.
into a poem.
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