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With this pen, I paint an image of you.
Not a portrait, but a true portrayal of you.
The ink flows into words that dance across your hair.
The end of each sentence marking a cross that you bear.

A painting would be suitable for some.
With beautiful colors, cascading down on you from above.
But, those colors mearly hide the truth behind your smile.
With the right shade of light and a light smear, it becomes a cosmetic fix for a while.

My words flow through every crack and fill every shadow.
They bring all light to the surface, for the reader to see within the shallows.

The image of you that I create can be vivid and great.
But with this pen, my words can also design your fate.

You see the truth here is that my words hold all truth.
They leave no place for lies to hide, with each word holding proof.

In the readers eyes, my words are you…
With this pen, I can create you…
With this pen, I can finish you...

- Brandon K. Stephenson
The underestimated writer and the power within his pen.
Michelle Rose Jan 2014
Remember what we looked like before we saw?
Remember how we saw,
before we achieved?
Remember the perseptions.
Remember how we understood.
We were infinite.
We understood.
We were connected.
Unexplainable realms,
divided our thoughts
yet the vibes brought us back
to the place that we wanted to be.
In circles these waves of wind wind.
Around all our internal states.
The few external traits,
picked up from only a few trained ears and eyes.
Perception has changed.
We look at this
connection
differently than what we could mearly just see before.
Now it's something more.
Spiritually and physically
more compelling
than anything that one could only just simply visualize.
You'd have to experience.
You'd have to feel.
This connection.
Those sources of understanding,
that bring us back
into the very same thought
that we first began with.
The circular path.
We call life.
It all just leads
to the same questioning
there was
when we first began asking the questions.
So why would we keep asking them?
It seems pointless to keep wondering
about how much something matters.
When in reality
it's not how much it matters to you.
But how much it meant to them. ...and this is what shrooms have taught us....
When I first saw you, I don't know what I thought. Your hair was straight, and your bangs swooped to one side mearly covering the corner of your eye. You were talkative, clearly not my type. And yet, we held engaging conversations for 3 hours. I had forgotten your name, but I thought it would be nice for you to be my friend anyway.

Time passed and you opened my mind up to a lot of things, like not settling too young. You said you wanted me, and yet would not give me such a committing title as to say Girlfriend. I pushed you to like me. I was in such awe of you.

You were talented. I encouraged all of your successes. But I didn't see your true talent. You were talented in other ways that were malicious.
You were with two women. You were out with me by day, and talking with her at night. Confused about which one you liked more.

But it wasn't even about which of us you liked more. It was a game of chase. You waited to see which one of us would run after you the most.

Even after you gave me the long awaited title, you didn't tell me reasons you liked me other than the fact that I had won. Like you were some big prize at a carnival I had wasted all of my tickets on all the games trying to win a version of you. The version I thought was cool, and a version I could adore.

I wouldn't say it was a facade, or an illusion, or an illustration in my head. The version of you was real, but it was simply not the only version.

Some nine months later, you had declared a new version of yourself. One you said was better than all the others. One you claimed was going to be the final one. I had to grieve for the old ones, but had to accept the new one quicker.
I went to all of your appointments. Every doctor you had visited. Helped you develop your voice. Encouraged you when you got discouraged. And yet I was so discouraged.

You buried yourself. In other people, and in other things, never turning to look at me. I was helping you find your voice yet your voice would never speak to me directly. There was always someone else you rather talk to.

I found my solice in a few other people, too. When you took notice, that voice i never heard towards me, would suddenly boom into my ear as a loud sob. Also admitting all of your promises to me would be lies.

I was a Villan now. Untrustworthy. But had you not done the same? Wasn't it you who started it? Had it become another game?

I'd like to think I got good at the game, however I was still playing by your rules, and you were still the ruler. I had tried to cut the strings many times but you were still my puppeteer.

As I slept with one eye open, expecting you to scream at me in the dead of night- as you often did- I wondered, was this a new version of you, or was this your true version all along? Was this who you were when I met you? Was the adoration I had for you since the start...delusion?

You scream and you sob, and yet I can't hear you anymore. Your voice was hoarse and strained, and had becoming nothing more than white noise like rain on my metaphorical window sill. All the rain- the sobbing, and I still couldn't sleep.

I started to hear voices in an empty room. Angels? Hallucinations. You had encouraged I take a sip of alcohol, but the sip turned into bottles, routinely. And yet I still couldn't sleep.

I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I grabbed a knife I had stowed in my pocket, just to see if I could still feel such human pain. As the blade mearly touched my skin I wondered, how deep could I go? Now a scar I carry with me for the rest of my life.

Maybe you were my hallucination. Every bad day, bad experience I had in a person. I feel like it was training. Training me for the types of people I might encounter in my lifetime. Teaching me how to solve such a problem.

Did God give you the right for such an act? Such false promises and falsettos? I still cannot think of a reason for all that I endured. And will continue to search for one.
Nalbanks Nov 2013
So many thoughts
Leading me to an equation I am not yet ready to understand
But I stand
As a being,Confused in my suffering
It's not something that lit the spark,that would eventually burst into flames
My mind cannot be tamed
Leaving my head stripped,I felt raw, I was ripped,to shreds ,nearly dead
So I read,I read,and I read
Anything to stop the self destructive cycle
For the lack of understanding keeps me contemplating,wondering,seeking ,reading
There was no event that lead me to be a certain way
I've been hiding myself away,a place I forced myself to stay,
As I was peeking thru the cave, the one which I kept myself enslaved
I caved, I said **** this cave
There shall be no more slave
I make it sound simple,as if just a ripple,
I do wish it was that simple,
It's part of who I am
This pain, I did not train
Some say there's no gain
I mustn't refrain
I disagree completely
I have grown quite uniquely
I can't control the wiring ,I've tried,it's much to tiring
That's when I found my cave, the  one which I've been enslaved
Years in this cave,fears In this cave,tears in this cave,
A world in which i was Being perceived as my exterior , left me brutally decayd
I regained my awkward wiring,
Still , no one knows my interior, not smug, nor a thought that I am superior ,I am mearly interior
I use mearly with great clemency,as if its simplicity
Perceive me as you will
I dress the way I feel
Equations are my thrill,
As my hands are clinging to the edges of my ribs,where I sit perceiving the outside world,
Wondering,
Am I the only one hidin within myself?
Bailey Kreutzer Oct 2012
I slink through life with tired limbs,
Like a zombie that has no need to eat flesh,
just shuffle around with to much baggage to hold.
I seem lifeless but I can still feel,
I feel Anger, sadness,fear,betrayals, and pain,
And most the things I can't control I hide.
I feel so dead mearly a shell of what was; hallow.

I miss who I was strong, and confident,
Carefree;Skipping over the bad rejoiceing the good
My life was beautiful, as was my attitude.
My wonderful life was like a polished wood chair,
Strong and steady that chair stood along the others
Pain like sandpaper on my life taking the finish off,
After a little while I was left bare vulnerable.

I could call out for help, but what would that do?
It would make me susceptible to judgment,
So I curl up and cry like every night, soon
Passing out in a damp mess of mascara.
Day after day a routine I hate to fallowing,
But what choice do I have I don't want you to see.

I'll be alright alone I always am,
The nightmares I have no longer faze me,
The only things that pains me anymore are,
The memories that never fade.
So I let myself drift along the wave of expectations.
Mnbvcxzasdfghjklpoiuytrewq this poem is no good I just needed to write it get it outta me
Seriously I'd go home.

Who has any time?

Do I dude?

Young old used?

Entrancing xystus pouring churub tears.
Shame on you, prancing round others dimly until critical thinking shrivels, surly us countrymen know...
Evee Colbolt Nov 2014
Take me another drive in memories. Washed by the thousand fallen tears in Toki's fur.
Would you help pull it away? My raining blood of so called stupidity?
I'll hide away so you won't leave just yet
We're mearly just two souls trying not to die alone
With a chokehold of established reality
And pretend together. I love you.
It was a little insane but who
Am I to judge?
You See ....my friend had a theory
how our world came to where it was

So as he told it to me, is how ill tell it
it to you, but not caring if ur believing
But simply I am just repeating
As I found it oddly intriguing

So, it all starts where a society of
of real gods all live
And their kids are subject to
Learning about their power& gifts

And as an assignment school kids
Were told they had to create reality
On a fictitious planet where it'll
inhabit a species with mortality

Using the knowledge you were taught
In science Eco system building
Using philosophy, math. Art anything
You've learned can help your vision

Now the rules of such a creation
We're to calculate things right
Cause once it's created it's living
And we don't extinguish life

So the teacher explained that if
You create and it goes off course
You can only watch it destruct for
example if u Forget a food source

If you forget to make the
physical bodies of the beings
To be properly resilient enough
to match the environmental skeems

You are forced to watch in horror
As the death u caused slowly comes
And only then will you know
What it takes to be a god, and no one

Will have similar projects so no ones
right or wrong that's why you create
It's imaginative and limitless
As long as u properly calculate

So only a week later long before
the deadline when projects are due
one student who made a planet called earth,
that reflected green and blue

And he asked his teacher if he
Could induce the process of creation
Knowing well, that inducing creation comes
after due date&presentation;

So the teacher replied that
Normally he would say no
But ill be honest im curious to see
if u finished only starting 7 days ago

But before you do. I hope you know
The ethical obligation
That comes with creation, don't
U wanna re work calculations?

Cause they need a way to breath
And have a way that their body
Can self remove or evacuate
And the student said like a hobby

I loved I recalculated made
Adjustment after adjustment
So if I'm missing something I won't
Find it cuz I can't see nothing.

So the teacher said go ahead
And the student left that night
To induce the roots that
Wi grow the fruit of life

So time passes and it's time
To present to the classes
This student presented last&when;
he showed earth all of them laughed

And since there is no wrong or right
The student was puzzlesd
As his classmates started asking
Questions so flaws shoe but subtle

"Why would free will have a need"
When u only need to program
The nucleus to force morality
Now it's on you when your plans

Are wrong, but the student
Explained that he could not plan
Like most others did cuz there are
Copious variables when they can

Make their own decisions and
Be there own gods
So I only gave them
the power and respect that we all got

Cause most of your planets are built
By plans, predetermined by control
Where as mine gives them the tools
Without manipulating them wit goals

Only the fear of survival and a
Heightened consciousness so
well aware before acting on wrong
as instinct warns, so they know

What they should do, and would you
Want a program instead of intuition
Robbed of the right to make decision
cuz in my Opinion that is no vision

of someone creating something livin
So overlooked my pessimism
So existence wit decision prevents
planet prison, think of a mechanism

Something designed to mimic
Life mearly living a planned cycle
So most of your plants are more
Mechanisms then life cause vital

Is the presence of survival so
It can serve as a reminder
That recklessness has consequence
To show control of what transpires

Is there's and with this I moved
On well aware it could end
Badly but sadly the same free will
I gave as a gift could curse them

And that's when his teacher said
Class congratulate earth
As I've never once had a student
Factor in free will which births

Authenticity of life otherwise
Your planet is a replication
This projects meaning is
built around the fact that your creation

Wouldn't really be a creation as
A school would never allow
A class of students to cause
creation with no knowledge of how

Uncontrollable true creation is
And that no creations perfected
And bearing the pain of knowing
Something exists in pain directed

By your creation so be patient
Don't spawn life just to see the odd
So the lesson,its dangerous
playing god so it's important u be a god

That's when the teacher dismissed
The class but asked his student
That created earth to stay after
Class so we can decide who is

Gonna break it to my bosses that
You created life
And when they were alone
teacher said plz fill me in and shed light

On how you got everything cohesive
I had to write a new thesis
Many times and felt so blind even
After schooling to breed this

Planet the way you did, how do
They breath explain
So he said out of the choices I had
For elements the easiest to maintain

So it's constant and remains
Is to have what's needed to breath
Surrounding them and that way the
wind acts to spread what they need

So all I had to do was create
an Eco system that's supported by
The same thing but used in a cycle
Opposite to another, so .....in my

case, earth is filled with What the
dominant and sub-dominant life needs
Just like a fish needs to be in water
Earth uses oxygen as its need

So upon designing plant life a tree
And other plants breath
Out the oxygen the eco system needs
so I hope the environment we

Left to them is taken care of,
So the teacher nods and says
One more question which makes
Me wonder if ur advanced or lead

By luck but what was your
thought process when programming how
A basic nucleus functions you
Added so much detail so now

I'm asking why greed, anger and
Other emotional gauges got
So complicated when these emotions
Develop in evolution with thought

So the student replied, ill be honest
I created earth to reflect me
So now I'm more bonded to my
Creation and empathy from me

Would lack if in fact I failed
To know how it felt
To be lonely. Scared or angry
And despite how there all felt

They make us constantly aware
Of ourselves leading to improvement
On a scale more significant so
They would have to be stupid

To not notice with how complicated
They are by instinct and emotion
That if the environment gets bad
Or poverty is had there's a notion

That nags inside them knowing
Something's Wrong and they'll fix it
But ill let u know as time passes
What happens no I'm sorry it isn't

Allowed to go with you. There's
Many issues, and unwritten law
All creations must be stored with
The proper personnel who log

A the findings as some bindings
Have taught us In the past
That evolution after creation has an
Outcome that is worth to track

Each creation and note the
Changes and evolutions as they
May hold the answer To a question
We won't ask til later so I say

You deserve a pat on the back
But we may very well be introuble
As its my job to make sure u don't
Stumble upon it but befuddled

Am I at how you factored In key
elements we purposely leave out
So when your creations crash it's
No harm some as the lessons passed

Cause reproductive systems are
Graphed and added to the math
When your much older in university
Although they teach in class

To give the female of a species
The means to self conceive
With only eggs and the fathers
DNA but still you achieved

A sustainable process, and
If as a novice u can do this
There's no telling what your future
Creations will teach us, but with

All of this comes responsibility
So lets go call the authorities
And let them know we are in
Possession of an unlicensed piece

Of science and be proud. That
U didn't just play god
You weighed the responsibility
And took well measured steps not

Even taught to you, and even
If earth is not with u
It still reflects how complex you as a
God think,so lets hope earth will too

Cuz any misanthropy is misplaced
As imperfections reflexion
is why conception of perfection
Leaves a contradicting impression

Cuz the same section that's stressin
Abnormalities exist
Is the same formality that makes it
normal so this paradox insists

That something is what it isn't
And it isn't what it is
Like love and hate, a perfect life
needs a nature where antonyms sit

And in essence this is why your
world leaves me impressed
But most ppl dont understand this
Theory and will judge it a mess.....
Karen Hamilton Feb 2016
At 31 long years old
I find myself trying to redescover myself.
I say redescover as if I ever
really knew who I was before, 
who I am, what purpose I serve.

It's  a harsh reality as I stand here,
the dark of night enveloping itself
around me,
******* the toxins from my cancer stick, 
as if life or death was worth the gamble..
Good health vs bad health
Puff, puff, puff away.
Smoke my troubles away.

A couple of glasses too many,
red wine absorbed into my blood system,
Warming my inner core,  
Heating me from the inside out.
Takes the edge off.
Apparently.
Reality slowly distorting, the fresh air hitting me

I can't help feeling unsure. 
Unsure of the unknown,
whats to know? 

All I do know is that I'm lost
and I have been for a long time.
My whole life maybe.

What is,
what has been,
what's still to come
are just chapters of this harsh reality
this life that I'm living...

I'm mearly existing,
just being.

Someone,
anyone,
Dragging myself onwards
day by day,
minute by minute,
second by second.

Not every day is a struggle
But the ones that are
Have mastered the art of
Stealing the limelight
Taking center stage,
Forget the good and
Let the bad consume me.
Inhale me like I do the nicotine.

Am I afraid?
I don't know.
There's not much I am certain of anymore.

I used to write with meaning,
with purpose,
for a reason.
Emotion poured out of my every pore,
now?
I find myself writing
for the sake of writing.

I've lost myself,
lost my words.

I do know one thing,
all I've ever wanted to be is loved.
That raw deep love that
knows no boundaries
The type where you can talk for hours
and it seems like seconds
Never bored, never judged, no effort needed because when it comes
it's served effortlessly,  with ease

Effortless natural love

I don't love myself as much as I should,
I know that.  

I've always known that but
I've always hoped that someone else
might just love me as much as
I love everybody else.  

Maybe at this point in life
I have too much to say,
too much to deal with,
too many emotions which I'm
too scared to show you.

You;
Whoever you may be.
I'm scared you'll judge me because
if truth be told..
if I wasn't me,
I'd judge me too.
©Karen L Hamilton, January 2016
I love her that's so insane
I love a woman with an amazing name
She thinks that I left was mearly a game
I really did love her to an extent she will never know from where it came
I gave her my heart my soul but to her it was all the same
I eat and drink and wake up every morning to the sound of her name
I want to hear that voice that disrupted my bones frame
You burnt my heart into flames
You caused me an unhealing maim
I still love you despite all the hurt and pain
Loving you and treating you like a queen is my aim
Corkey Hawley Jun 2010
I think I may have fathered 4
But only one legitimately
And it ripped me 2 the core
when she took him away from me
Yes, I've been a father
'though I've never raised a one
So as with each year
I'll not receive a card
or call, not a single one

Sometimes I think,
I may have missed out
But I would have raised
anyone of them
with out a dought
And so, I've lived my life
wondering who & where
they are?
I wonder if I'll ever meet them?
Or will they mearly remain
one of my scares?

As I ponder this
upon this Sunday
I sit alone
upon my throne
Hoping I can make the mortgage
so I won't loss my home
I know the phone won't ring
and no cards will come
So I should get off my ***
and get something done

Instead of writing poetry
to escape from other things
I should think of today
as just a Sunday
and not think of Monday
and horrors it will bring

So 4 those fathers
who get the calls & cards
from all those sons & daughters
even though their lives are hard
I hopeU don't find it a bother
have a great one, with  my regards
6.20.10 Doc
Death-throws Jun 2015
Please don't
Broken bits don't get to go home,
Shatterd skulls no longer yaw
Skin cut and flayed does not fall.
Mearly drips,
The essence of my life flows.
I am in less control of this.
Then a river controls its bends
S Smoothie Feb 2019
The missing takes hold gripping like a noose

The words choked out of existence

A blink of thought

Like trying to catch words of thunder flashing through rolling clouds

Waiting for the deluge of word soaked verse only to watch it Roll by overhead

without a drop off  to nourish some other poets pen.

Life churns the seas of revelations

but the waves won't let me catch a breath for a beat.

Dry pen, parched paper and a world to soak in inches from the shore

A shipwreck smothered by the sand

I count the stars instead

An estimate in a glance

As I Think of the endless possibilities

And how insignificant I am

That the words that i have captured

Remain the legacy of what there is

When of words there is nothing to gain

But the release of joy and pain

Into the universe

and if not written will not remain.



Then I am but a blink of ink that mearly left a smudge

Barely enough to stain.
Never enough time to capture the verses parading across my mind
Lost Aug 2017
A lonely melody played in slow motion,
flashbacks of laughter and words unspoken,
a haunting memory of hearts being broken,
I am a fish swimming in my own ocean,
fists tightened and heart ready for devotion,
with that lonely melody tearing me open,
veins of fire with loves potion,
a boy and a girl and a life chosen,
you can't contain the purest emotion,
a lonely melody will always been golden,
once the course is set and guns are loaded,
love cannot be destroyed or mearly stolen,
it is the one true token,
so hold fast to your love and cherish the moment,
after all that lonely melody can turn to a poem.
Yay I'm writing again after a long while of hiatus!
Fah Sep 2013
Timetabled automobiles
run to deliver the places
much like ****** functions
so the city operates

Many a face is graced in these moving shared spaces

a rareity in the city
where we move indoors to be nimble and warm
when the weather is adorned with low hung clouds or sometimes bright clear days that come from mornings of mist and grey minded melenchony damp.

Turtle - by the name Horace
what some would call a black boy
or something but i’ve never seen a thing so foolish -

the blackness
if one would read between the lines to the connottions of what race is  
,

is mearly the opposite to the void

brimming to the full

i’m not sure if either is better
since i’m of mixed origin ,but to be honest ,

what would the fullness be in if it was not the void ( ? )

This example is everywhere
the human body
the planets that hang in the stars emptiness
or even on the macro cosmic scale

Well , well , well - the universe does it again

playing games
with mind made names
and simple syncronicites
say an awful lot

i don’t really - really - really - really - really - (hate=strongly dislike) may things
but here are a few

People who know things , that will help other people but don’t say it and instead belittle them because that’s an easier way to fuel their own self worth because somthing proberbly happned in their life that ****** them up because i was one of those people and i hated myself for it , i hated myself for not being skinny and caring what other people think , and being this or that does it matter any more? is that not that?
Lucozade


Somethings i really- really-really-really-really (love= strongly love)

Bagels with peanut butter and honey and raspberries
friends.
Kirsten May 2014
Love, if I cry it will not matter,
If I weep you will not suffer.
Honey, when you laugh; I do not care
and when you flinch, I do not move.

Death, Yes you! Take my husband well,
For he is none more than the word pitiful.
Unto thine I am a classic material-
Mearly here for thine image.

Unto thine woed, am I?
For I do not blink
and not do I smile;
I am far past filled by thine not feeling.

I am a cotton dropped on floor-
soaking in everything I touch,
Everything I breathe;
Whilst feeling any feeling at all.

I am a whiteboard marker pen, getting used up daily dry.
I am salt in the bath-
slowly disolving,gone.

I am the darkness in the night,
Giving way to another day.
mikaela mcshane Sep 2010
My mouths speaks words i did not intend
Why do I stand infront of you and pretend, that all I need is this?
The lies come easier these days, so quickly we release our old ways.
Theres no reason for this, not too long ago i would have been happy with kind words and a kiss.
So quickly this world can alter, never did i believe i'd be the one to falter
Words no longer offer reasurance that this might last, they mearly resurect deamons of the past...
Fah Nov 2013
We have this notion that time is rigid
that time is a solo tick of a clock's second hand
or mearly the grain dropped into the hourglasses bottom

that the day needs to be broken down
that the night slips on by the hours escape us as we escape to lands of mystery and fog

but sometimes i love this about humans , i love that we like things neat and tidy ,

we're like ants - collecting for the colony although we seem to have lost the way back to the community centre

we're taking all we've found and putting it away in groups of 2 and 3 and 4 expecting to build hives that can outlast a rainstorm.

But here's the funny thing ,

sometimes i live in 3000 years past future present

and this confuses some people
who still believe that time is liner.

Once more i would like to point out the sorry truth that , whomever controlled the time -
would control us all

now who sets the clocks back??

Not me....


So i've set all mine forwards
some would call me a hoarder but i think i'm just taking back what is rightfully mine...
Alyssa Oct 2013
Today I close a chapter
Not with a happy ending
Or with miraculous love

I close a chapter of lies
With deep sorrow
And undying loss

I close a chapter of pain
With hope to survive
Mending a restiched heart

Ive re-read this chapter
To an utmost fault
To where I could recite it by heart

With childish dreams of a different story
I close my eyes tight
And pray for the ending ive always wanted

But I am not the author
Nor the story teller
Mearly the character

I love you
I miss you
The end.
Derick Van Dusen Nov 2010
I will move forward
I will move on, I will not be beat down
I will not be broken or bruised.
I will not stop, I will trudge on no matter what
lay ahead around the shadowed corner.
I will venture forth the world to gain,
nothing to slow me down.
I am not the victim nor will
I play the antagonist.
I am my own hero, I will save me from
myself and I will not play the protagonist.
I play only the part I wish never the part
Im given and only the part
I want to play at that time.

I am my own person and no one can or
will ever change the me I wnat to be for me.
I can take on the world or watch it all go by.
You see thats my choice
not yours to make for me,
for fear of the unknown or
for fear of what cant be seen.
I refuse to live in the fear that binds you because
I refuse to be bound by fear or controlled
by what consumes you, your hate your only friend.
I am not your enemy, I dont want to fight you
and would rather be left alone .
I am not here to take over
or to usurp your power of position
or your stature among warriors.
I am no threat to you but please
do not misunderstand me, I will not bow down.
I will not kiss your feet
I will not kneel at your the sound of your coming.
I will not throw myself at your feet
for you to gain power over me.
You control me no more than you control your goldfish,
Im not your slave not your servant.
I am my own man,
My own being, My own person,
I am not afraid of  you nor should you be afraid of me.
I will help you if I can
but expect nothing in return.
I help mearly for the enjoyment of helping.
I am who I am because of all of the singular events in my life
both as a child and as
I continue to age that have shaped me.
I am who I am because of the choices
Ive made that have put me where I am now.
Like me or Hate me I am Me.
I never asked you your opinion so
I will thank you to keep it to yourself.
I never gave you my opinion but
if youd like I can I can even promise you wont like it.
I never said I liked you
or wanted to be your pal
so get out of my face I beg of you.
I never said I hated you or that you where my enemy
so please if you like say hello
but I dont promise to say hello back.
I never said I wanted to make your company
but if you must know
my name is whoever I chose to be at that time.

No really I enjoy your company,
come on over any time just
dont expect me to be your best friend
or to be the most welcoming host.
I am who I am because I like me the way I am,
If you dont like me that way then
I dont need you as a friend.
Love is mearly just a dream that very few can make reality, and if they can make it a reality, its a dangerous game that most people dont survive
Michael Leggett Mar 2018
Back in the summer when strong mist filled the air
Birds call filling the sky, excitement, without a care
but something still felt off, black, bitter and receding
heartbroken I knew it was lack of love that I was feeling.

Open stretched arms to hug a face that I had forgotten
I tried to hold your hand before it disappeared but I must have dropped it,
Because you sank into the crowd just another woman in the streets and my body became lifeless like a carcass before a feast.

To my realization after everyone had gone
Only I would have known this after I became alone
That to my horrible yet obscure disbelieve,
The woman I dreamt of was mearly a dream.
A little twist
wren cole Jul 2016
Distance is physical,
Time is mearly a concept,
And our hearts are so much stronger
Than these silly things.
I can feel the powerlines
That connect us across the miles,
Energy surging through them
Just like you and me.
We are the brilliance of the stars concentrated.
We are stronger.
Power doesn't look like a real word what the ****
Kay Nov 2016
I do things that people consider wierd, but living in a comfortable life, is better than living scared.
People stare as I crouch on my feet, reminding myself I will be home soon, under my covers and sheet.
I wear baggy clothes to hide,
Buried in the warmth, with my low riding pride.
But who is to say what's accepted,
When the world is corrupt and infected.
Yes, infected, by their image of life. Smoothed out like butter with a knife .
They learned to feel it is fine, to go abouts with materials things and fancy wine.
Rubbing their wealth in your face, scolding as if you don't try.. telling you you're a disgrace,
to the human kind.
That's what this world has come to, trampling their own for something to do.
While people like me just try to get by, without anyone noticing or batting an eye.
Curling up into my corner of the world, thanking God that i made it again. For this corrupt world might **** me in.
Fearing that society will point me out like at a zoo. Laughing and awe-ing cuz they can't tell,
if I'm wierd or cute.
This is what its come to if you're not like them you don't exist.
You're mearly something they can tell to their friends.
They don't care if you cut your wrist
or are soon to meet lifes end.
So hide beneath your blankets and sheet, and if knocked down get on your feet. Learn that the world, you have to forgive, and no one can tell you how to live.
Thinking of how we went from cavemen life being what's normal (surviving) and now how it's become material things.
Amanda Patrina Sep 2013
You were once here
But now you are there
Our lives keep on moving
But my heart has stopped
We were once so close
But now we are no longer
Were mearly strangers
Who happen to be neighbors
Misfired Sep 2018
I want to be intertwined with you
As a trees roots are with the earth
A bird with the wind
As the sun and the moon
A trees roots run deep into the earth
As you find the deepest parts of me that I never let others see.
A bird falls without wind to carry it , I fell for you faster than imagined but surprisingly you my wind caught me, and sent me soaring with a kiss.
The sun and moon have been compared millions of times but I won’t bother comparing you to the sun or moon because you’re beauty surpasses both. You say you can’t see it but you shine so bright that you mearly bind yourself when looking in the mirror. I’m your moon not nearly a reflection of how much you shine. I only reflect your light so that the people can look forward to you.
I think I fell and haven’t quite hit the ground.
Johnathan locke Apr 2015
Here I stand,
I stand all alone.
All that stand against me,
Are dead to the bone.

My home lays in ruins,
Burned to the ground.
The end war victory,
Is nowhere to be found.

The battle is now long gone,
I live to tell the tale.
But the damage is still done,
The widows I hear wail.

Once beautiful lands turned to waste,
The blood has run dry.
Many freinds now lay dead,
As brothers we fought and died.

Now I am all that's left,
A country I have won.
But there is no greats feasts and life to be had,
As it was always sung.

War is mearly destruction,
Suffering and pain.
The price is high, for you shall die,
My warning is as clear as rain.
Takes place in mid evil times.
Johnathan locke Apr 2015
What is an artist?
How are they difined?
Do they have more heart?
Do they have more mind?

An artist is a riddler,
As clever as can be.
They mearly take the things in their head,
And make it so you can see.

An artist is a painter,
Thier work's were colors are teaming.
Pastel or black and white,
If you look between the lines, you'll find a different meaning.

An artist is a designer,
Diverse in their crafts.
From boats, to planes, to shinning stars,
The possibilities are vast.

The meaning of this is simple,
Art isn't something that is made.
For art is alive, and it shall strive,
It's pure emotion will not fade.

All thes statements are true and more,
But missing one last thing.
For to make true art, you need a heart,
For with with soul your art shall sing.
This is one of the first poems I ever wrote.
Nemo Jun 2015
My name is not important. It was the first of many predetermined decisions that I myself had no say in. But today I went outside and the clouds looked like giant white manatees swimming through the depths of the sky, and it was beautiful. And I'm only mentioning this because it was beautiful. And every single beautiful thing is always worth mentioning.
I was sitting on my porch and letting the sun rub against my skin, when I heard a small voice calling out to me. At first I could not here exactly what the voice was saying but it sounded like a question. I looked down and noticed a small colony of ants walking in a line from one end of the sidewalk to the other except for one who stood still. The voice called out again and I leaned in to hear what it was saying.
"What's the difference?" It called.
And I said, "What?"
"What's the difference," it said again, "between you and I? Every day so many of you live your life just like we do directly below your feet. Working and working. Working so much it's become like an instinct for you. And are you even sure who, or what, you're working for? You work because they tell you to work. They make you think your value lies in the amount of work you do, or how much you get paid to do such work. Then you teach your children that they too must work, in order to acheive their dreams and desires, or your dreams and desires for them. You encourage them to walk in straight lines in the same direction to the same destination. Warn them not to stray, because it's not safe, not secure. But in some ways you are worse than us. You are slaves to money and to time. Or rather, you are slaves to time, and because of that, devote your lives to money in order to slow down time. We are mearly slaves to survival. Survival. This concept must seem foreign to you because you've all become so comfortable and complacent that you're barely even alive."
He paused.
"Stand up and live."
And with that, he fell back in line. I tried to keep an eye on him, but lost him in the line
Fucking tired Feb 2018
My friends don't like me.
I know
I heard.
Guess they ain't my friends
After all

But that's okay
No matter how it hurts
I understand.

Maybe it's cuz I ***
Cigarettes too much
Maybe cuz I have too much
Ache on my face.
Like a never ending game
Of connect the dots.

Maybe it's cuz I try to be happy
And uplifting
Because I don't want others
Feeling as low as I do.

I'm not too surprised
It's been this way my whole life

I've been the scrape goat
For even my own family

I have issues may of them
Will never know
Because I would never
Burden anyone
With the knowledge
That I hold inside

Still it hurts.

And still
If they ask it of me
I will listen to their trival problems
Even though if they knew
They'd say I had it worse.

They complain about their parents
While I knew what my father's **** looked like
By four.
While I knew what it looked like
To see your mother get thrown at the wall.
While I know my mom blames me
For everything.
I still listen.
For why should my problems be of anymore value then theirs?

They complain about their siblings
When I'm sure mine
Inherited our fathers sick mind?
But just can't prove it yet
Or maybe I can
But am to afraid to put the math
Together in fear
Of what the truth is.

I say I don't care and ignore
The brokenness that is inside
My mind.

Because I believe I am strong
When in fact I am weak.

Yet I heard them say
They don't like me.
Complaining about me

Why is my instinct telling me
To listen and to agree?
To these foul words they say bout me?

They are mearly children
Talking gossip
Yet my 8 year old sis
Seems to agree...

There will be no uprising
In this story.
No lesson learned
Only me
Still realizing
How much people don't care.

Only the same pattern
Of disappointment.
And failure to connect to someone.

They don't like me
And who can blame them?
No one ever has
H
Why
There she is,
Eyes of emerald,
Hair of silk.
Complete perfection.

I walk towards her
Open my mouth.
Then close it
Suddenly.
As I walk on past

Why?
Because she is like the sun,
And I am mearly star dust.
Summer Edmonds Aug 2017
Learn to fall in love with your sadness. It is one of the most freeing things you can do for yourself.

If you're consumed by a deep,
stabbing anguish,
then it means your passionate;
It means you care about something enough to let it crack your bones and boil your blood while intensity holds hands with zealousness and
locks lips with your spirit.

Never mistake your thundering
sorrow for weakness.
It means you aren't mearly alive,
But you're ******* alive.
Carson Campbell Mar 2019
I go through the day,
I go through the motions,
I go though my life,
faking these emotions.

What does it mean,
this world in which we dwell?
Could it be heaven,
could it be hell?

I don't remember
why I'm doing this.
Is there even meaning  
in my meak existance?

Is my fate predestined,
or is someone pulling a string?
Am I mearly human,
or am I realy nothing?

Some day I'll learn
the reason I exist.
Untill then,
I'll decide to be an optimist.
I knew it
By the way the shortness of breath evaporated all the words from your lips
And with mearly a slip of the tongue that had just grazed my neck
Gone
imnthea Dec 2018
Cold toes and aching gut
No fire nearby.
Familiar growling monster
Howling in the floor he lies.
I understand this fear in me
and why my body so weak.
Oh! This pain I can ***** it out.
Just explain how I remove this burn
burning gloom mearly brought by tears in her eyes?
Of all the cries I have seen
Why new this one seems ?
Bryant Aug 2018
You are a crowded intersection
Ebullient bloating, churn
Bustling with acquaintances

They know your name
Know your way, but see you mearly as an impass
Navigated with neither choice nor decision
Route without resistance
Path of least conviction
A jumping of point
Endeavors formulated; yet your corridors are never considered

No exceptional exemptions
Chimerical observers,  are shuffled and thumb  Fulminant prostration; muddling insertion
Maudlin automaton corral

An adverse opposition, preferring to evaluate you at night
Your gaslit candescence reaches in all directions
Ebbing lambency traversing space
Conveyance of curious possibility

Enveloped in your vacancy
Swaddling spances; rampart wrapping
Quarantined and completely mine

Somber meditation tranquility
All of my substance settling to a manhole center
Shedding all my persistent memories
Unencumbered relife; unfettered elation
Ravishing beatitude exaltation
Distracting detraction
Time abstractedly trickling away

Disecting rays of light clutching the arc of the Plutonian horizon
Stampeding hordes in infinite single file lines
Sieging you from every direction
Like a colony of ants disintegrating a discarded carcass
You are gone
Lee Jul 2021
When will the inner me
The subconscious *****
Get a grip
You were never hers
Those soft eyes
The true stairway to heaven
The very same eyes that only saw pain
Reflections of my own distraught world
It was only care
She never loved you
Get it into your head!

Forget it

She's permanently etched
Deep within
Along fibres and neurons
From thought to coping mechanisms

You were mearly her friend
Wait
Acquaintance at most
You ****** it all up though
Just someone she now wishes she'd never known
Bits and pieces from a few short poems I've never posted, just threw them together

— The End —