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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.
Lizzy Apr 2015
I say I live as a burden,
My mouth sealed shut.
So that I may not utter the words,
Of my weighted thoughts.

These truths weigh a ton,
And I've far too many for just one head.
For even mine.
My head bobs to my shoulder,
Weakened necks can't hold this.

Now I'm shaking,
Trembling.
Because I gave you the rocks,
The stones that broke my neck.
And you are fading,
Drifting all at once.

Give me your boulders,
And we will be even.
Give me your mountains,
So I can rest easy.

My burdenous brain
Broken neck
Heavy thoughts

I never meant to break your neck too
sofie Jan 11
pretty girl,
beware,
the boys are out to get you
they'll take away your flower
they want what's only yours

pretty girl,
blossom slowly,
stay in your cocoon for now
for summer can only last so long
and soon it will be over
Lyn Senz Nov 2013
God you're pretty and
you got such lovely hair
your clothes are *****
but we don't even care

and rich boys walk by
and see you lyin there
they try to say hi
but you don't even care

some say you're crazy
well maybe that's true
but how I'd love to spend
a lazy morning with you

so blow by me barefoot
please show me your smile
to see you all made up
would really be worthwhile

just a girl


©1987 Lyn
Hi. this one was written about
a young woman who I would
see often in and around
Peoples Park, Berkeley, California.
it's actually a song.
I lived february til may in
that great town in 1987.
JayceeJellies Nov 2014
She comes over for the night,
She seems to be alright.
I'm not sure if I like her yet,
But that doesn't seem to matter,
She's just that close to my sister.

She started to stay over on school nights,
Something just wasn't right.
Soon enough she never left,
I began to feel like I was being replaced.

I'm not trying to sound selfish,
And no I'm not jealous.
But I am confused,
Why are you telling me this unfortunate news?

She hasn't left for weeks.
I'm sick of being the subject of greed.
I want my family back.
Just tell me that she'll eventually leave.

I'm now starting to feel neglected.
I've been replaced in every way I had imagined.
But you don't seem to see it that way.
I don't think the girl is leaving any time soon.
The Spider Jan 2016
Our Autumn has arrived, but I don’t predict another spring.
The Autumn leaves are here to stay
but Autumn herself leaves.
Her wake
forever freezes us over, petrifying us to watch the sufferage.
The sufferage of the people around us.
Starvation, damnation, and crimes that are uncontrolable.
The autumn leaves are here to stay
but Autumn herself must leave.
I leave along side her, I am not here to stay
and watch you fall apart.
Your Autumn has arrived, but I really don’t predict another spring.
I wrote this for an english project in 9th grade. We had to use a song and build a poem from it
King Panda Nov 2017
starlight snaps your
cigarette awake. the imperfect
circles of earth’s motion orbit
around your breast. the moon
chimes
from your ears.
north and south run
the rivers of
smeared mascara,

you stop. listen to

the man
playing fiddle with
half-hearted
bar light.
Cné May 2017
My Dad was a unique person
too little understood.
I do not sing his praises
as often as I should.

This day I will remember
my Daddy as he was
holding me when I was little
tickling me, just because.

He would tell me not to worry
or have no fears, or tears.
He's in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days, or years

I won't think of him as gone away
his journey's just begun.
For life holds so many facets
this earth is only one.

I'll remember not his fight for breath
nor remember not the strife
I'll not dwell upon his death
but celebrate his life.

Today I celebrate his birthday.
He would be eighty~four.
Though a woman now of many years,
I'm still my Daddy's little girl.
May 10, 1933 ~ December 23, 2013
Here he lies
with his two wives
his wife and her twin sister
between the two
who really knew
identical, they were also tricksters
Anne J Oct 2018
Strings, strings, wrapping around porcelain skin,
For why does the bruises not show?
With a waist, hip, and two legs that are so thin,
For why does the skin always glow?
Hair that never sheds, nor grows, nor messes,
For why does the girl not wash it?
With a merry face that still never truly expresses,
For why does the face not show even a slight fit?
Stoic, conjoined, the feet never stomping,
For why does the limbs never feel frostbit?
Perhaps it is a lie that the being is a girl,
As it is only with strings that she can ever twirl.
I did this about two weeks ago, as the poem you gotta send in order to the join the site. I hope y'all liked it. Does this count as a Halloween story?
Hg Jun 2018
i keep on seeing stars
as freckles
on people's faces

i ask them ain't it cool
that you were born
with constellations?

but some have just as
many spots as
insecurities

they think they need
make up to cover up
their galaxies

like one person I know
looks like ice cream
that's been peppered

the dots on her arm
dawn from her grandma
who's a leopard

but she tells me that
she hates them
she calls them imperfections

cause back in school
kids mocked her for
her speckled complexion

some bully
named georgina
used to call her a giraffe

the boys joined in
and even then
her friends began to laugh

internalizing this
as a black hole
inside her mind

though heavenly
her body confidence
never aligned

then a tear streaked down her cheek
she immediately wiped
the meteor

i’d never seen her sad
didn't what to do
so I poked her

poked her face to show
my favorite star
below her eye

told her when we speak
it's like i'm talking
to the sky

and every time she blinks
that freckle vanishes
from sight

so every time she cries
a star goes missing
from the night

shame is taught
to many of us
at such an early age

comparing our looks
to everyone
as if we're made the same

girl you are spectacular
no matter of
heredity

your tears are shooting stars
made of cosmic ice
and chemistry

now i thought that that was clever
but saying that
was DUMB

cause as I'm seeing stars
she says she’s been
seeing someone

yeah Ice Cream's
got a boyfriend
right now he's just away

i should have seen
that coming from
a mile milky way

you wish upon a star
to find someone
that’s wishing too

one day
i’ll meet that one
when i stop wishing for you

i gotta say goodbye
this ain’t the time
this ain’t the space

it just ain't right
that every night
i still will see your face
©Hg
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
This girl I know
She is just ... like a book.

Her cover is so beautiful
And yet ... forever changing looks.

But this girl's beauty
Is unlike any that you've seen.

It really comes from all those pages
Those pages in between.

Each page tells a story
Some of sorrow oh so sad.

But for every one of those that you read
You'll find one of better time's she's had.

This girl I know
She rules a realm that no one ever see's.

This girl will never show it to you
And she will never show it to me.

This girl is tough
And dauntless and strong.

This girl she sings
The most beautiful songs.

This girl will never let you see her cry.

This girl will never answer you why.

This girl she doesn't need wings to fly.

Because this girl ... She is the sky.

You will find her overhead
Every day and every night.

Her sun will warm the hardest heart
And her stars they shine so bright.

If you should ever catch her and open that book
You'd better read as fast as you can.

Standing still in any one place
Is never in her plans.

But, this girl I know isn't running from something
And it's not that she's some bird on a wire.

She isn't blindly running through time, you see
This girl I know ... She has a world to set on fire.
Written in the Fall of 2012 about a friend of mine that just means the world to me. I'm too shy, or whatever, to show it to her. With my chronic case of Charlie Brown Syndrome, I am forever in fear that I will be somehow misunderstood. I hope one day, if she ever see's it, that she realizes it is about her.

PLEASE, with all due respect, do NOT tell me to give it to her. If I haven't in 5 years ... I am never going to. That's just me. I PROMISE you that I am THEE most stubborn Aries that you will EVER encounter. My stubbornness has made my family and friends, quite often, call me "The Immovable Object".
FlipThePoet Sep 2018
I'm beginning to like this Sport.
Hockey girl.

I'm getting comfortable around you hockey girl
I'm getting use to the cold tryin' not to fold hockey girl
I'm learning how to skate, 'em chairs far away hockey girl
I'm not gonna lie, I do fall and fall again as I try to stand hockey girl

Oh what a game hockey girl
I'm a summer boy, l love grass and the cleats hockey girl  
I'm a gym boy, I rather do weights and do the jumpman hockey girl
I like to think I'm a sport guy but hockey wasn't mine hockey girl

Where I was born hockey wasn’t a sport hockey girl
Sometimes I would think "how can I learn a new sport at one and twenty" hockey girl
Back in the day I used to think hockey was white and not black hockey girl
Now I'm beginning to realize that hockey is black and white hockey girl

Sometimes the pads and apparel gets heavy and uncomfortable hockey girl
Learning a new sport can be tough hockey girl
I play to not get in the box hockey girl
I sincerely hope I don’t disappoint you hockey girl.
FYI: This poem goes to a good friend of mine
I just wanna say thank you as I share my mind
EBTI Dec 2016
I am that strong girl
Who cares but, don't say
Who cries and feel the pain
Who acts mysterious but, she knows it's just a game
She thinks but, her thoughts are all over the place
She knows she is bigger but, still playing with those beginners what a waste!
She's been hurt so many times, now she doesn’t know where to begin in this race
Are they with us? Or are they our enemies?
But, now she knows them by the face
She gives what she needed the most
But, they don't know
She asks herself “do they really deserve it?”
every time she forgets herself
Yeah that girl, who questions every relationship she has
Like there's a lot of them ..
But when she give, she gives hard
Love hard, livs hard
She knows how much she is Beautiful
But does she ?
She always says it to herself
But is she really?
Because she got lost between the words she write
You know, it's the only way to express herself
She doesn’t  tell anybody if she was sad
She doesn't even cry
She just says “I hate the world”
Basic right?
But she says it in her own way
She says it with hope inside, she knows there is a better way, she got to discover it , but with out herself?
Oh darling what a sad story you have
But they don't know they judge you from the outside
But you are who you are and you don't care.
zebra Nov 2018
Oh the virgins ravenous vault
college girl ******
a seething abashment
with mixed loyalties
who belongs to no one
ferocious for annihilation
*** blast
poured out from essence
spread shanks
wet spot
hot shots
meditative and gleaming

huge hearted
she is one and many
choking on desire
far flung in Turkish bath fantasies
a singing **** tearing heaps of suns
like burns and spatters
her ***, a high pitched note
his ****, rage at bay
poised hot **** ****
gasping fire

*** criminal's

foot kissing
****** biters
Sylvia Plath was referred to as "The Smith College ******" in some biographical material. I love her poetry, like incredibly, and so by the proxy of her literature I remain very much in love with her both as a writer and as a woman, albeit a vivid fantasy. That love remains amplified by her suicide as I find myself still aching about her now, 50 years after her death. I remain continually mesmerized by the appalling dread, yet sensuality of her draped corpse hanging out of the oven. Her dead body is an ineffable poem of grace in form and shuddering despair. I always want to rescue her.... It gnaws! This poem is prompted by Sylvia Plath, a Goddess of modern language, her youthful passions, and inconsolable despair.
Mitch Prax Aug 2015
Like the sun,
she brightens up my day
Always there, never far away
Like Mercury,
She’s scorched with beauty
A dazzling image for all to see
Like Venus,
A goddess in my mind
A divine gift for all mankind
Like Earth,
Her heart is where I make my home
An aura so real, I never feel alone
Like Mars,
Her hair, it runs with red
she annihilates any tear I shed
Like Jupiter,
She has the largest heart
She herself: a work of art
Like Saturn,
Beauty surrounds her like a ring
So light and divine, almost floating
Like Uranus,
She goes against the grain
Free from the world, she breaks the chain
Like Neptune,
Her passion rages like the wind
she sets out like a storm to rescind
Like Pluto,                  
So distant but never forgotten
Dancing for eternity around the sun
Eva Aloezos Jul 2018
Tonight,
I was a Red Queen
starring in my own circus

Dazzling in authentic velvet
being looked upon,
but more importantly looking

Sitting on a mighty pedestal of white winter smoke

Gazing down on my misunderstood subjects,

Wielding a rosary, I never once believed in
stepped in water, that caused me no spiritual awakening
Sneaking through the haunting open corriders

they should know how empty the life of monarchy is

please let them see” much of this life is fake

they must see* there is much to live for, but also lots to die for

However, all this was an herb induced thought

Which stemmed from a memory of myself, a child of merely four years

Creating little soap operas, with the cards from a card deck

Mumbling to myself on the bathroom floor, wise beyond my years
My soul is a deep dark bottomless well
A place where all my thoughts dwell
Walk across the bridge of gloom
Find the place where bad things bloom.

Thoughts of revenge & torture, thoughts of pain
Thoughts that would make the normal insane
Tiptoe the tight rope across the well
But if you fall in the bottom you’ll find hell.

Take the plunge, now it’s your turn,
feel the terror fell it burn
Like boiling water pouring down your back
A heart of gold is something I lack.

My soul is like fire, violent and warm
Like Nathalie Imbruglia I feel torn,
ripped apart at the seams
Head filled with bad dreams
And thoughts and wonders all forsaken
No one to love for my heart has been taken.

But since you’re here stay a while,
you won’t have fun, but I can make you smile,
and laugh at all you are afraid to face
This is my soul, an unnerving place.
Read more at http://******-in-oncology
Cress Rosario May 2014
I saw you standing there
I know you cannot bear
With weary eyes and skin so dry
You looked down wanting to cry

You want to hide in unknown places
Kept running away from your fears
Covering up your ears
To the words you don't want to hear

Storming days suddenly passed
You didn't moved until the sunlight flashed
You looked up and surveyed the sky
Finally found a reason to smile
A new chapter in life is a simple reason to keep people stronger than before.
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