"aproach" poems - Hello Poetry

when i met you you were like a catipiler i tryed to aproach you you matured in a cocoon feelings started to grow you broke out of your shell i realized how much i liked you you spread your wings and took flight true beuty is you when i see you I get butterflys

0

Nov 13, 2012

Nov 13, 2012 at 1:39 AM UTC

shane-blue

butterfly

when i met you you were like a catipiler i tryed to aproach you you matured in a cocoon feelings started to grow you broke out of your shell i realized how much i liked you you spread your wings and took flight true beuty is you when i see you I get butterflys

11

I was wondering if my pictures clear in heaven I see stairs visions impaired, living in fear Dark halls cancels light. Footsteps I wonder what might happened if they'll aproach me. Silently moving swiftly through avenues of depression. Maybe it wasn't heaven in disguise, it was all lies, let me sleep so these dark hours can pass by. As I sleep it follows me into a trans seeing nocturnal images, aggressively ******* my life away. Resiting things, not even of tongues but of possession my opression is my basic fear a player and contestant. Gravity Falls, Gravity Falls Paintings of disasters Maid Dolls, following eyes, Creepiness, Gravity Falls. A war within myself is like mental intoxication I can't think right can someone fly apon me, So I can even contest with such a spiritual fight but let me not say things because insight another demon might just take away what I think is righteous, Gravity Falls.

0

Oct 3, 2013

Oct 3, 2013 at 8:47 AM UTC

BLVNK

Gravity Falls

I was wondering if my pictures clear in heaven I see stairs visions impaired, living in fear Dark halls cancels light. Footsteps I wonder what might happened if they'll aproach me. Silently moving swiftly through avenues of depression. Maybe it wasn't heaven in disguise, it was all lies, let me sleep so these dark hours can pass by. As I sleep it follows me into a trans seeing nocturnal images, aggressively ******* my life away. Resiting things, not even of tongues but of possession my opression is my basic fear a player and contestant. Gravity Falls, Gravity Falls Paintings of disasters Maid Dolls, following eyes, Creepiness, Gravity Falls. A war within myself is like mental intoxication I can't think right can someone fly apon me, So I can even contest with such a spiritual fight but let me not say things because insight another demon might just take away what I think is righteous, Gravity Falls.

26

It was Christmas. I was spending it with my family, just like every year. Strangely, something was different, but what? It wasn't the same place, some people were missing, and some other people I didn't know were there. Suddenly she walks into the scene. Dressed in a virginal white dress. Very little makeup, letting me see her natural beauty. Her brown hair as beautiful as can be. Her blue eyes calling for me, mesmerizing me. I couldn't help but falling for her. She's talented, gorgeous, smart, funny, and the list goes on. Me? I'm nothing in comparison, but there she was, so close to me, yet so far. Which would be my opening line? Would she find me interesting enough? Would she ever love me like I love her? There was only one way to find out. As I walk towards her, she's asked to give a little performance. She played, she danced and she sang. She shot an arrow right through my heart. She moved with the grace of a swan, sang with the voice of the angels, and played with the talent of a prodigy. Just as I finally aproach her to introduce myself, I wake up. Will I ever be this close to her again?

0

Jun 10, 2013

Jun 10, 2013 at 10:36 AM UTC

krusty-aranda

I Dream of Lindsey.

It was Christmas. I was spending it with my family, just like every year. Strangely, something was different, but what? It wasn't the same place, some people were missing, and some other people I didn't know were there. Suddenly she walks into the scene. Dressed in a virginal white dress. Very little makeup, letting me see her natural beauty. Her brown hair as beautiful as can be. Her blue eyes calling for me, mesmerizing me. I couldn't help but falling for her. She's talented, gorgeous, smart, funny, and the list goes on. Me? I'm nothing in comparison, but there she was, so close to me, yet so far. Which would be my opening line? Would she find me interesting enough? Would she ever love me like I love her? There was only one way to find out. As I walk towards her, she's asked to give a little performance. She played, she danced and she sang. She shot an arrow right through my heart. She moved with the grace of a swan, sang with the voice of the angels, and played with the talent of a prodigy. Just as I finally aproach her to introduce myself, I wake up. Will I ever be this close to her again?

25

The cold metal delves deep in me. The red on my skin is all I see. Red fades to black, sudden collapse.. Blinded by white, all due to relapse. Light as a feather my last breath flows. - Surrounded by white a black rose rose. Tiny as it seems, I verge upon. As I aproach the rose grows on. Thorny roots cover beneath me. Seizing my ankles, forming a black sea. Pulling me down into the darkness Far below the white and harmless. Ringed by black with constant pain. A heartless soul held by chain.

0

Mar 10, 2016

Mar 10, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC

JasonMassacre

The Abstract End.

The cold metal delves deep in me. The red on my skin is all I see. Red fades to black, sudden collapse.. Blinded by white, all due to relapse. Light as a feather my last breath flows. - Surrounded by white a black rose rose. Tiny as it seems, I verge upon. As I aproach the rose grows on. Thorny roots cover beneath me. Seizing my ankles, forming a black sea. Pulling me down into the darkness Far below the white and harmless. Ringed by black with constant pain. A heartless soul held by chain.

15

I create the floor Through the act of sweeping Within I unsleeve my shelves of their volume Of their heavings and will I now welcome an unskilling To the task of a swept floor I unmake myself Thorough point And attention

0

Mar 23, 2019

Mar 23, 2019 at 7:05 PM UTC

neth-jones

A Task Aproach

I create the floor Through the act of sweeping Within I unsleeve my shelves of their volume Of their heavings and will I now welcome an unskilling To the task of a swept floor I unmake myself Thorough point And attention

10

Follow the rabbit hole into a land of red The white rabbit takes the lead As you fall down the abyss Can you see yourself Alice? Alice Are you proud of what you've done Inhaling colourful smoke for fun Are you happy with what has become? Are you happy with what you have done? Tick-tok Tit-for-tat The hatters trail Stained red What once was baby blue Fades into grey Splattered scarlet Alice are you satisfied yet? As Mad hatter hat sits on you head And cheshire cowers Too scared to aproach Alice have you had enough yet? Piercing echoes And flying red Stains what once was sun kissed hair With a lick of the tongue Copper taste The heart becomes her mark Alice Are you proud of what you've done Running wonderland done one by one As the hooka smoke and mushrooms Gotten through Does the caterpillar make a good throne? How ironic the heart Is what you hate Yet its mark marrs you face Alice, not Alice, queen

0

May 7, 2016

May 7, 2016 at 8:40 PM UTC

tintinw2

Alice

Follow the rabbit hole into a land of red The white rabbit takes the lead As you fall down the abyss Can you see yourself Alice? Alice Are you proud of what you've done Inhaling colourful smoke for fun Are you happy with what has become? Are you happy with what you have done? Tick-tok Tit-for-tat The hatters trail Stained red What once was baby blue Fades into grey Splattered scarlet Alice are you satisfied yet? As Mad hatter hat sits on you head And cheshire cowers Too scared to aproach Alice have you had enough yet? Piercing echoes And flying red Stains what once was sun kissed hair With a lick of the tongue Copper taste The heart becomes her mark Alice Are you proud of what you've done Running wonderland done one by one As the hooka smoke and mushrooms Gotten through Does the caterpillar make a good throne? How ironic the heart Is what you hate Yet its mark marrs you face Alice, not Alice, queen

37