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KRRW Aug 2017
I'm a Disney princess
A pretty, pretty actress
Sought by handsome princes
and by ugly wicked witches



My hair is blonde
and shiny and smooth
or soft and long
and fragrant and strong



I'm just like my hair
Shining bright like a flare
In a world of unfair
I'd get even and square



(Grr, grr!)



'Cause I'm a Disney princess
My skin is white and lovely
So are  my eyes and my teeth
And everything about me



Because I am perfect
I'm created to win
I'm the hero of your dreams
Armed with my tears and high-pitched screams



Sometimes I'd only sleep
Then there comes his charming kiss
It's hot, it's sweet, it's salty
Thanks for waking me up!



Sometimes I'd sneak on a ball
Dancing 'til I hear my midnight call
And leave one of my silver slippers
For my curious prince to ponder
Then he'd seek and find me
And we'll live happily ever after!



Wait, why am I here
In this sad forgotten tower?
With my evergrowing golden hair
Can't even find a single stair



I wanna go down
I wanna go down so badly
I wanna go down so deeply
Somebody please help me
Please help me go down



And my wish is granted:
A prince had just appeared
He pulled down my slender hair
Saved me from my lonely despair
But “ouch! That hurts!”
No it didn't! I'm just trying to flirt!


(Wink, wink!)


'Cause I'm a Disney princess
I can have all that I want
I can make all those mistakes
And fix them with a magical wand!



My life is a dazzling fairy tale
Packed with curses and magic spells
Who really cares about moral lessons
If everyone's happy like a bunch of morons?



Because I'm a Disney princess!
Everybody loves me
Whatever I do
You still wanna be me!



Curtain closes,
bells go chimes
My story ain't over,
it's just begun
Countdown starts,
five times the fun
Four times the thrill,
the Evil Queen awakes
Thrice made the chill,
the dragon is unleashed
Twice turn the pages,
here come the mages
Once upon a time,
I'm a Disney princess!
Written
31 July 2016


Copyright
© Khayri R.R. Woulfe. All rights reserved.
Saumya Nov 2017
A tree stands tall on soil,
A human on earth,
The ground,
forming soils upper 'crust'.
But what would thou be,
If sans was the soil first?

We origunated from the soil,
Evolve through it,
One day, we'll be this soil
The soil, on which thou may never sit.

Life still isn't a thing,
without this mere soil.
It endures so much,
Yet gives back peace.
And complains not,
Of its strife's and greifs!

The food we eat,
The air we breathe,
Will all be futile,
Sans soil beneath.

There wouldn't be trees,
Would fresh air we'd breath?
The water we drink,
Would'en really be free?
And Oh, the ground that
Endures you feet,
Would you be standing,
Without the soil beneath?

The soil forms lifes,
Aids us live,
But little we know,
Of its sincerest deeds!

It burns itself,
To prevent us  from heat,
It wettens itself,
And absorbs all heat.

The birds,
The beasts,
the tinniest creatue indeed,
Are the elements indebted
to soil in brief.

Thou life is but this soil,
The soil that reings life,
we are the trees,
Who stand on it,
Who laugh, endure,
Learn, speak,
Yet keeps so much,
like those little seeds.

Thy parent are seeds,
And the roots to be
Thy friends are leaves,
That may shed in weeks,
Thy siblings the arms,
Those helping hands in deeds.

The soil of life,
Sees success, misfortune and griefs,
Yet fertile is the one,
Who masters to smile even in adversities.
The soil is major part of eternity,
And our lives an essential part,
The part, we then call as an 'evergrowing tree'
Just a thought :)

All feedbacks are most welcome.
Thankyou for reading, Commenting and the reactions
Shay Dec 2015
Someone moves like a python striking prey,
someone screams at the top of their voice moving away,
and suddenly it's as though I'm back to you and me,
and I relive all the things you'd do to me.

Someone brushes me by; touching my skin,
and a friend kisses me on the cheek with a friendly grin -
but I flinch violently; scared of what might happen, evergrowing eerier
because you used to leave not kisses but bruises laced on my exterior.

Someone is drinking straight from a bottle of whiskey
not caring about his actions which really are rather risky.
And I'm reminded of you and the way you used to drink
and how you'd blame It for the way you'd throw my head against a wall with a clink.

Someone spills wine onto the floor without a care,
but all I can do is panic and stare,
because had that been me when I was with you,
I'd have been your punchbag every waking moment - you know it's true.
In little coffeeshops
By the back corner, far from the exits
But near the little hall leading to the bathroom
At a time set by a large window
The poet, his soul filled with words and reasons to say them
But unsure how to convey them
Can observe the nerves and synapses
Converging in this single axis
The windowside throne, the great looking glass
Provides a view of every soul to pass

Through the door to the core of any good café
The front register
Where they serve the junkies
Their first no cream no sugar fix of the day
The register ******* this sunrise shift stands tall and wears
A pleasant smile
Like a suit of armor
For the fractures frayed and loosened pieces
Of her 65 hours a week between two jobs psyche

From his back corner vantage point
The poet sees this early morning warrior
And watches her adversaries approach
The sleep deprived and the caffeine dependent
The men in suits with leather briefcases
Hustling and bustling through self inflicted exhaustion
Work force revenants who begin to shamble through the door
Out of the early morning mists at about 5:30
just as the world is shrugging of the shroud of night

In his seat of power, the poet, lord of the room
Can see, despite the dim lights of the coffeeshop
These early birds, gaunt and hungry like vultures
Standing shoulder to shoulder with the last of the night owls
Shabby old things with ruffled feathers
Too tired to sleep or simply without a roost.
Their re rimmed eyes provide a window
Through which a sovereign of the word
May glance upon their tired souls

Yes from that lovely back corner
The poet is a king, a lord in noble regality
Reshaping reality
Sitting in the back of any coffee shop
In Phoenix Arizona
In America
In the world
In this whole great evergrowing span of universe
And turning people into words.
Name XI Jun 2015
a speck on a train of evergrowing thought,
i simply exist in your periphery
deploring each opportunity unsought
trying to wash myself clean of your mem’ry

you are certainly a skilled navigator
you make your way into every part of me
the earth was a kaleidoscope of colour
now it’s achromatic–you are all i see

my desires remain to me inchoate
whether aspiration or admiration
to be like you or be with you: the debate
either of which a mode of self-destruction

as to vertiginous heights i watch you soar
i realize it’s neither option at all
for my wings can never quite take flight like yours
lest you crumble under your great wings and fall
(i try to rhyme) (and count syllables) [reposted from my wordpress]
Rits Aug 2017
Every single one us has our own cave of thoughts.

Things we are unwilling to say or share to those around us, things we will only keep to ourselves.

No matter how strong a sense of camaraderie or how tight a bond you have with your confidant, you will never be able to lead them to the door of your cave and pass them its key.

The cave gets bigger while we get lonelier.
Matt Bernstein Apr 2019
Well traveled leather binding a vault of lost ideas.
Haphazard graffiti
dripping ink down the page.
Crumbled sentences and half-finished
thoughts
backdrop the soft scratch of the pen
trying to outrace time

Years, composed as fragments,
have no place
outside the white walls where they were born
Only the architect remembers

and still he is mortal
E Nov 2021
I engage in transness
but with no emphasis on transition
I am not one to the other
I am on a continuum that can't be defined
to male or female
if I opened up on what parts define me
you'd be in for a while
my transness is not fixed
my transness is evergrowing and bountiful
it doesn't stop at male or female
I've passed what it means to be trans
I've ran the marathon
and won at the finish line
transness has it's own path
not what cisgender people decide
I live in a revelation of social control
by what's under inclusivity
the performance of transitioning is over
I engage in transness
and I exist with no finish line
A shocking revelation, not so shocking revelation has dawned upon me and I realize I am not aligned with simply male or female. I deviated from the socialization of female and I am now deviating from male socialization and roles. I am deviating because the performance of gender doesn't do me much anymore except back pain and bruised ribs. The performance of male or female as a trans person is often unrelenting and empty. Performing has made me hyperaroused by those perceivimg me, anxious about failing my performance and getting sexually or physically assaulted, and has honestly not done me anything good in the past year and a half. All I get from that is being gendered "he" and even that isn't really affirming. I suppose it's better than She/her but it's all in the same if it's binary.
My existence cannot be boxed into either or.
I feel as though my experience with gender is always transforming and adapting to what's most comfortable.
Being a binary trans person felt comfortable because it was the only viable option from female. Now, performing/being perceived as male is not making me comfortable.
I don't want to die a man. I don't want to die a woman. This doesn't even take into consideration how I'll always be perceived as A or B. Gender is confusing. I identify as genderqueer, but also "not available."
katie Dec 2018
the twinkle in your eye,
your evergrowing mind,
the love within your smile,
you dance just like a child

the softness of your touch,
a heart that grows so much,
you are more than enough,
and all of the above

the warmth of your existence,
grows fonder by the instance
it's you in all your essence,
with you i feel abundance

the troubles of the past,
is completely by contrast
we may move too fast,
but i can love you, at last
it was always you
I was ready to relish
In the fruits of our labour
We'd come far from there
The odds finally in our favour

It seems that fate
With twisted wicked tricks
Has our candles of hope
Burning at the end of their wicks

A single wish
That we'd asked to come true
Is all that seemed to be ignored
When I bring up me being with you

Guilt, doubt, misery
and evergrowing sorrow
Are the side affects of thinking
It's worth not waking *tomorrow
Thought bomb
Title makes so sense
No context
No relevance
Just pure cold emotion
One idea,
To a thousand thoughts.
Some prove true,
Others are false.
Cruel or kind?
Nobody can tell.
Not even I,
The creator of this shell.
For my own,
Are unknown,
They choose,
They decide.
Leaving a complexity
In our evergrowing mind.
Dora Jan 2016
According to my father I am a bird
Or a plane
Perhaps Superman
I don't know
But he sure says I live in the clouds all day long.

My mom calls me Complicated Simplicity
Ingenuous youth following the erroneous direction
A perfection gone wrong.

My understanding brother accepts me fully
He really loves me I swear it's true
Well apart from the fact that he's convinced
The very essence of my being just doesn't belong.

My friends believe me to be a box of broken promises
Potential, talent and beauty well hidden
A girl who gave up before trying
Even though she knows she's very strong.

Now you may wonder who actually am I
I am still trying to figure it out
But it keeps getting harder and harder
In this evergrowing, judgemental throng.
Santiago Jan 2015
Hate me or love me
Either way I'm stuck real deep
I know you lie figured you my spy
Don't worry do as you please
You're my only happiness

& My One True Love From Above

Before you walk away my love is
Evergrowing inside your heart
Never leaving it's sweet home
Just do me a little favor
And remember me forever
Miracles happen just believe
In them with much faith
Next thing you know it's there
Victory - An achievement of mastery or success in a struggle or endeavor against odds or difficulties.
Brandon Sep 2018
Where once I adjoined
A facet of evergrowing life
I now fall through the air
Destined for the ground
And the crunch of footsteps
Traveling
del Jan 2018
sometimes Depression
is the wingman for my evergrowing crush
on Death, of course
he tells me what to do
in order for him to love me back
slit your wrist
let the blood spill
stare at the half-full
orange pill bottle in the medicine cabinet
some days
Depression makes me a better person
he tells me that Death will like me better if
i dont get out of bed
if i become skinnier
because he likes being the big spoon
he likes to swallow me up in his arms
and never let me leave
Depression whispers the secrets
the keys to unlock Death's heart
and when i finally gain the courage
i confess to Death
with a noose around my neck
Zack Vulnerable Aug 2017
i always dreamt of
clear blue skies
evergrowing greens
refusing to die

awoken fully
colorblind
wiping eyes
a thousand times

she spoke of
brighter days
during countless
sleepless nights

if i dare ask
her to stay
perhaps we may
see the light
katie Mar 2020
he called me, "honey" as if it was second nature
and in his presence, i felt comfortable and calm
does he know that these tears are a result of longing,
and not of my evergrowing qualms?
i dreamt about my love, and there he called me his darling.
Moni May 2018
Pretty girls who spend hours looking in the mirror
With nothing but fear in their eyes
Because they can't seem to relise
The beauty that goes deeper than the words
Can describe.
The beauty that has been carved into their souls
Only to be baracated by the evergrowing darkness
That can only grow
Until it becomes their whole life.
Share my poem
for those who think the stars burn out
it's not true
some stars go on and on
giving birth to new stars
in a never ending
cycle of eternity
our sun
will burn grow expand
become a giant red planet
burning our atmosphere
to empty itself of gold
to those deserving
in this evergrowing
always knowing
Uni force
why restrict your future
watch the timeless dance of infinite amount of stars
infinite celestial bodies
infinite time
Sevda Jan 2019
the world stood against me
it was never easy
to defend my existence
with your evergrowing distance
as you stood against me
Rafael Melendez Jul 2020
The rain came down, tapping the window as if to get our attention.

The lightning flashed to the beating of our hearts, in sync, in pulse. Faster and faster.

The clouds stirred above our heads, and the darkness comes to life.

But we don't turn, though the rain birthed a mote for us to witness.
We are not blinded, though the lightning flashes the vast sky.
And we can see, though the darkness is evergrowing.
Right into our eyes.

Absolutely nothing in this world could come between.
Ronan Aug 19
i wake up a few times
in your room
in the quiet dark
an unfamiliar place
and yet i settle down and ease up
when i open my eyes and see
your soft hair,
your sleeping face.
i pull myself in closer to you,
the need to write buzzing at my fingertips
but i dont want to lose any time.
so instead,
quietly,
i lay and watch you, comfortable and content in your rest.
i close my eyes,
bury my face in your chest.
your arms come up around me in your sleep
and it feels like my heart is being torn apart.
blossoming open and making space for more love.
looking at you is an entirely unique experience
of emotion and exhilaration.
new emotions flood me, not yet named.
something grows within me
permeates and overflows, an outpouring of something akin to love but that is so much more
than just that.
i close my eyes again and sleep comes easy.
i wish this time with you would never end,
that i could stay dreaming in your arms forever.
i wish i could tell you how much i love you.
but its an impossible task.
how do you name something evergrowing?
how do you quantify the unquantifiable?
words and actions could never come close.
but i hope they can suffice.
satisfy that hunger in your veins,
the ache in your heart that begs for things real and true.
my heart aches for you
lurching forward, pulling me towards you.
undeniable attractive and love and lust and love again.
to lay in your arms is to know love at its purest form

— The End —