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s Sep 2014
i was dreaming about hold my grandmother in her last second time and then she died and everyone cried. and it feels so real i can't barely breathe and when i woke up the whole world feels so strange for me.

   i hate my *mind
i miss my grandmother :-(
have you ever losing someone you love? tell me your story so i don't feel like i am the only one.
writerReader Feb 2015
i cried when you died
i died when you wept and wailed
when a bunch of  old Senate men
and some intimidated women
voted to heave

     an accused ******
     and proven liar with an alcohol problem
     given to irascible outbursts, fits of self-pity
     and insulting comments on women

into a lifelong seat on the highest court in the nation
     against voluminous evidence of his lacking qualifications
the statue of the Goddess of Justice
     whom a former attorney general
      had all covered up in blue cloth
dropped her sword and scales
tore off her blindfold
and covered her ***** ******* in shame
Apropos the U.S. senate 's decision to nominate Brett Kavanaugh for the Supreme Court
Juhlhaus Jan 13
I cried and I cried
Such a great pain
My heart's well it did drain
None has equaled since then
And free of tears I have been
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
Look what they've done,
torn you apart.
In the name of fun,
some kind of black art.

I'd been thrown into the lake,
arms and legs tied.
I sunk to the bottom,
they thought I had died.
Out of the depths I arose
wearing a beautiful dress.

Some kind of new magic,
like a good witch.
A white art.
I don't seek revenge
for I have a pure heart.

It's now they'll see
that they could never be
someone like me.
Because I'm the greatest
******* in a dress
they'll ever meet.

Poetry by Kaydee.
The more times you're hurt, the less likely you will retaliate in the same way. Understand the serenity that comes with this, the more immoveable you will become. Covered in blood, bruises, fractures and breaks but . . . . . still stood smiling because *****, you're more than just a ******' witch.
Silverflame Oct 2018
The porcelain bird flew so very high
until its neck encountered with the ground.
From the windowsill to the edge of night
it died alone; with no one else around.
A Sad Alex Jul 2018
Something within me died
If it was even born at all
I don´t know what, I´m not quite sure
But I can feel it´s loss

It´s air in a room where there was a void
It´s space where there used to be more
It´s silence where there once was a voice
It´s so dry now, it´s so cold…

Trapped between the walls of my mind
I can´t tell what is gone
It has all been the same for a while
The same people, the same thoughts
The same everything, day after day
Year on, year on…

Inside my dying heart, it will be hard to find
Nothing has been here for some time
It is withered, shriveled, cut and scarred
I locked it tight, hoping for it to die

To search my soul, it is to search what once was
A place of so much hope, so many dreams and lies
I couldn´t tell what died
So much has, I can´t tell them apart
It´s a graveyard of innocence
Where my ambitions rest dead
And by its side my happiness lays…

To search me whole, is to search nothing at all
For there is nothing to find
I feel now like I am husk
A dead man who forgot to die

So I will write my sad poems
The one thing I can do right
Change my blood for ink
Black and thick, as my being
Let paper be wrapped to my skin
An open book, for all to see
For something within me died indeed
Or something wasn’t born at all
The more I search, the more I think
That it was me all along.
September Rose May 2018
How do I write in a poem that I am
        S C R E A M N G
How do I convey how  f r u s t r a t e d I am
How do I get you to know how
      o              u       i          g
c         n              s        n
        my mind is right now
How do I explain my writings of a crumbling sanity as poetic licence
      It becomes easy when nobody knows your how much of concealed life you really have
           My mother can't worry, She doesn't have such terrible thoughts

The bullets I try to use just ricochet around my skull blending my memories, rattling my thoughts.
My personality has died with my will to live
Olive Jun 2018
She is dead.
It’s fate’s fault.
But only sixteen.
That’s too young
To leave us.

He found it.
Her dead body,
Under the dock.
She’d been missing
For 45 minutes.

She was dead
Before anyone knew.
He never forgot
Finding her there,
Already far gone.

The ambulance came,
But too late.
No hope left
That she might
Still be okay.

It tore him.
Tore him apart.
You could see
The hurt inside
His circled eyes.

It started small
Just a sore,
On his cheek.
But it grew.
And it spread.

From one came
Another and another
Painful sores on
His deformed face,
Eating him away.

Then he left,
To find help.
Because it hurt
Far too much.
Even inside him..

He was gone
A long time.
We were hoping
He found whatever
Help he needed.

We finally heard.
A letter came.
But from him?
We didn’t know.
We couldn’t tell.

Scrawled in marker,
Were two words.
Our hearts stopped.
There it said
Only: “HELP

He needs help?
Or found it?
We didn’t know.
Then we saw
Something more chilling.

A photograph slipped
From the envelope.
It was him.
But was it?
Didn’t look right.

His face, gone.
Rotted by sores.
Eaten all  away.
Hollow. Empty. Gone.
Then we knew.

In silent shame
Our eyes closed.
Because we knew
We should have
Helped him first.

We were the
Help he needed
Before he needed
Anything at all.
“We didn’t know.”

A bad excuse
Because we knew.
We always knew.

You always know.
The story of my best friend's brother and a dream I had about him several months after she died.
van Young Oct 2018
When I died
No one cried
A few sensitive souls surely tried
But never showed their shallow fallow feelings from
the visceral side

The Rent-A-Rev Chuck did his job
Even though he had no idea who I was
He delivered the obit with adequate wit
Which was worth half a bucket of warm spit
The printed program carried only one of my semi suspect
social grass roots cause

I was not a bad man
Never a sad man
Super lucky by comparison said
A smart *** brain in a medium sized head

Generous though
With a slightly bent bellowing sick humorous flow
Just like butter meeting a warm knife
Unconditional Love presented itself and was enjoyed
three or four times in my life
Yet no one was left to give a good *******
Not that it mattered for just another man

All known relations had gone before
Now the end of a short line in time
Had breathed the last reasonably fast
And took the long slow brightly lit walk toward
North Shore

When I died
No one cried
Sayer Aug 2018
my phone battery is dead and so am i
complied with all your demands and ******
if I don't feel like i'm hung choking on her oxygen
a deep wound is an accident and i am an accident and

open up your treasure chest in your backyard
with your dog barking at rodents and your fence
fencing off the easy moments and the hard times
the hard life and the disgusting seconds

measured by every ghost that ever walked her earth
do you know your own worth
what its like to be alone
or catch the bone i throw

a bleeding arrowhead and a cracked leg
brittle bones atone for my sins
All I read is the book of Job
God hates me so
Mohamed Nasir Aug 2018
a cat died
under a tree
the macho cat
I knew well
of his
fair share
of kids
of fights
of conquest
under a tree
he laid

approachable by
encircling flies

under a tree
laid stiff
feet snarling
jaws and
rapier claws
by death
still poised
to fight for
a last time.
This morning I found this cat opposite of my house. Notorious for raucous fighting in my neighborhood is now dead under a tree. So I had done the necessary. And hope there's peace again. At lease until a new macho cat comes along.
Danneli Aug 2018
"Come hear!" they cry thru the shadowed veil
"Don't you hear the blackbirds song?
Do not weep for the grievings of her heart
For it is you that is dead and gone..."

"It's me indeed!" cried the poor wand'rer
"For behold I meet death at last
My heart beats fast like the fallen bird's wings
Filled with sorrows for my lonesome past..."

"No, No!" cried the blacksmith's wife in vain
"Your heart should not grieve for your colorful days!
I n're leave home and I work till I bleed
I am caged and shall die a *****..."

"Your tunes are absurd to my disciplined ear,"
The businessman spat in the stranger's path
"You can scarce imagine my crimes toward man
I am ****** to **** for my horrid acts..."

"My songs have begun to fade out of key!
My spirit has died," the performer mourned
"I sing alone with another's words
The crowd sees beauty, but it's pain they scorn..."

Now do you hear it? My song that I sing?
Now that you've reveled on a darkness within
Sing no longer for me the tune that I give
For the caged bird that I am, I see all of your sins.
I tried a new style. Sorry, I can't explain it or make it more complicated than it is.
Cindra Carr Nov 2011
I’ve died
I’ve felt the brunt of dis-ease like a disease
The final straw that has broken my heart
Drove a stake through instead
Why now?
The leftover time I’ve been allowed
Is filled with hollowed out emptiness
The screams of pain when there is no one to answer me
Bursts my life at the seams
I have died
I’m gone for sure this time
I cannot even fill the time I have in between
Because I am numb
Dead inside
Without that genuine human touch with no hurtful motive
I’ve gone and died
Withered blossoms of socialization should have fought hard
Hardly fought instead
The weak politeness crept out
I have died
With no thought for the future
I’ve cut my past off to live in the blankness of the present
Don’t fret
I never really lived anyway.

Ilion gray Dec 2017
Tonight I am unfamiliar
With loneliness
I am here
And you are not...
And yet
I will never forget
walking from the park..our son swinging from planet to planet,
Traveling time,
Tiny threads of minutes
Are also infinite..
Indelible, you captured us between your God-like hands ...making each second endless,
And still,
They will never die..though they stand,
In the midst of 10,000 dying memories.
Each of his tiny hands in one of ours headed
west down Malcolm x
toward Broadway,
Feeding ourselves to the starvation of day..

                             (Part 2)

In the chamber of unspoken words,
Where cold truths often hide
whose doors oft go unopened,
Both of us, knowing stories of lovers past whose love,
surely died from  
the fire.
two losing lovers joust
in  a house of hope and life..
yet they light
That house afire
and watch it
burn down in flames
Of desire and shame,
And although it
Rained many seasons since,
And the winds come in
stronger than any seamans hands,
I can still smell the dank musk of dying cedar
It enters me,
With every breath,
......tonight I am unfamiliar with being human
Because from what I've heard...I have seen everything..
Humans are lonely....
I have never been alone...
And when the darkest of the ancient infinite emptiness embraces me....
Even there,
  in that unfathomable space, 
where neither silence,
nor Angels have traveled.....
I will not be alone.
I once existed,
Just as cloud
Always leaving
Never arriving,
As a
stone I was ....
I was a tree , watching days
Walk silently across time.
I have forgotten loneliness
And longevity,
as "humans" are prone
To fear the days raging on....
These days, I
Cannot be human....
I am the cloud,
I am the tree and it's leaves,
Losing through seasons,
Yet my roots are fingers I have driven
down deep below the skin
Of the breathing earth..
Aging willingly
A tree, giving
It's leaves, hoping
To be crumbled
and shattered beneath the back
Of some child playing
under rays of sun,
That were never mine or hold...or, to own,
Knowing how our lives
as well we borrowed,
both mine and yours,
a face in an infinite crowd...
Only knowing what comes before tomorrow ,
I am a cloud,
I am the stone beneath the cloud,
I am also the tree beside the stone..
And as long as there is this
Infinite ending always at the feet
Of silence,
I will never be alone.
writerReader Mar 2015
the flowers that we grew together have died now
that you've been away so
i find myself talking to your creaky rocking chair
and sometimes i
swear that
it sings
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