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multi sumus Jul 2022
im so tired of reading bad poetry worn out cliches with rhymes that doesnt remotely match meters that just drop off out of nowhere leaving you wondering why it was written at all the me me me i i i you dont understand what ive been through as if Your the only one who has had trauma themes that do Not make A lick of sense whatsoever or the ones where how many times can you say the same **** thing over and over and over again its just too long then there's the hole misspelling of words where the Writer is either to frikken lazy to proof read or just trying to be and and i use this word loosely creative poor grammar with no punctuation or capitalisation leaving you out to figure what the hell is actually meant and let us not forget the egregious use of big words discombobulating the reader in an inefficacious attempt to impress and by the way shakespeare is dead so the thee thus thou shant be missed there are a few presumed outcomes of you reading this either a comment below detailing your egotistical outrage of what has been written with what i am sure is to be a riveting display of your distain with private conversations with others on the pompous *** who wrote it and how you gave him a piece of your mind and in what manner you told him or a passive aggressive poem written in a not so discreet manner in which you will feel better about yourself but all the while thinking you should have said more then there is the ones that in their im not like that attitude will refrain from any discussion on the matter so as to prove a point as what has been said will stick in their craw for quite some time for those who have continued reading i would like to thank you for your time and let it be known that this piece has been penned deliberately so as the aforementioned statements concerning poetry are actually in fact observations of my own written works as many of you know as writers we are our own worse critics and with that being said if a poem is to incite emotions then i do believe it has done just that
Kim Seul Nov 5
When I speak of the desires of my heart, they designate it insanity,
yet what they'll never savvy is that just like the nature's care for naturity,
I, too, have cared for you, since the first time I came to see your quiddity.
Even so, you too will continue to see it as nothing but a boy's mendacity.

Watching the stars above yearning for happiness,
my extant soul slumps with despondence,
the melancholic glisten of the meandering clouds, an inefficacious prospect,
reminding me of my world, a life sans zest.

I still reminisce of the time we met, a starry night with a mesial crescent moon;
The Hour before the Holy, the ephemeral moment blessed by love, purity, and strength.
The enigmatic attraction I felt, the way my heart ached, begging to be united with yours, soon;
the daze I lost myself into, coupled with the way you took away my breath.

And I dare proclaim, that I cannot live without your voice;
your sweet whispers, accompanied by your smile.
The way you look at me, makes me rejoice,
in your eyes, I see a future worthwhile.
Your hairs flutter sound, alluringly,
engrosses me so naturally.

Yet, we stand here as friends, pretending to be nothing more,
the fear of rejection shaking us to our core.
I do think — think about you all the time,
but it cannot work, for I am a dime a dozen.

Would you still look at me, despite life’s horror?
For I vow to stand by you, never to depart,
In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer,
for better or for worse, till death do us part.

— The End —