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Miss Saitwal Jul 2018
That workaholic lady who's always on call
& keep up with the market cells,
That newly married lady with chunky "red bangles"
talking to her husband with both earphones and blush on.

That man with a big fat stomach filled with his wife's love;
That teen who is on the edge of being deaf
because he can't do without the earphones.

That struggler who always stands at the back door;
That dreamer who's lost looking outside the window;
That person who's scared to get lost so stay active on the maps;
That disturbed mind who is coping up listening to George Michael;
That overworked soul who can crash anywhere.

That lady who choose to sit and freeze to death under a broken A/C unit, rather than stand with a five kilo backpack in a crowded jungle.
That girl who eats like a thief by hiding her food in the bag;
That tall enthusiastic freak who swings
and does gymnastics in a moving bus.

That granny who spot more trends than teens and follows them;
That old man who still can't keep up with the uneven roads
and the confused climate of Bombay.

That teen who lives with/on an Ipod,
instead of the 90s kids who survived on colouring books;
Those kids who believe their job is to fill the voids in the still crowd by surpassing like electrons to the magnetic field.

That man who is inspired by Raju Rastogi from 3 Idiots,
chanting to death and can't stop stressing on his responsibilities;
That entrepreneur with a head held high and red lipstick,
who never believes in a 9 to 5 corporate "mistake",

That blogger who can't think offline and is born to shine on the Gram,
That man who switches from Linkedln to South Indian action movie when the masses exit.
Mark Thompson Nov 2014
Oil paints...what a ******
    My mistake
A spill on canvas
          I wipe and wipe to fix the "inspiration"
Before I know my eyes are fixed and fixed on...nothing

The painting's gone, my over thought of simple things
Has stormed again and taken from me
      That that I saw, and saw as a need

A force so convincing
Has broken,
shock! and gone a splintering

  And now
In wide eyed amazement
I stare at beauty staring back at me
From a chance meant
  To be
A happy accident

A smile

Relief
mitus May 2018
Spilling the juice all over the floor,
Missing you each day more and more.

Listening to music- new and old
My decisions getting a bit more bold.

Shutting the door louder than usual,
My mind is starting to get delusional.

Loving you without a doubt,
Hate seeing you with other girls out and about.

Scrutinizing every mistake I write,
Only to view every poem I spite.

Luring the unknown into my room,
Chimney blows wind in with a bad fume.

Securing my own locks on doors so fragile,
My body always wanting to move so agile.

Leaving your life and entering his,
Wisdom hit but so did his fist.

Sobbing on the cold ground,
I wish I still had you around.

Listening on what to do - my friend’s advice,
Maybe I have to start trying more than twice.

Sending mixed signals and causing trouble,
Will only ever lead to a burst in the bubble.

Lacking thought or too many to count,
So many problems I have to dismount.

Serving my old yet new figure,
My body tired, and oh-so-bitter.

Latching on somebody to stay,
Words cannot explain my feelings at play.

Shouting loud but not loud enough,
My brain's gone into a severe slough.

Crying for extreme help,
I cannot do this by myself.
Do you ever wonder
if the painter
tires of his colors?
kgl Feb 2017
i'm counting on my fingers
as you list mistakes you made
but no amount of hands outstretched
could make me less afraid

i tried, we tried, you didn't
as your worth came into view
the person i once knew has changed
now i all see is you

no time for keeping score now
the game you played, you won
i have no more to say to you:
you did it, so i'm done.
Alya Adzkia Jul 2018
I chose to be your friend
but you made a mistake
for staring at my eyes a little bit too long
soaked my soul into the ocean of yours

I chose to be your friend
but you made a mistake
for touching me without using your hands
pulled my soul into the embrace of yours

I chose to be your friend
but I made a mistake
for not being able to control falling into you.

— and I haven't done falling.
Eryri Aug 2018
We married not so young
After many years of fun:
That was the biggest
mistake
of my wife.

We doomed our partnership
In a Holy building
Cursed by a sunken ship
Weighed down by gold
Tossed in a storm
And battered by rock:
Marriage was
the biggest
mistake
of my wife.

I jest of course
- not of the ship,
that part is true -
The biggest
mistake
of my life
Was not marrying her sooner.
Ananya Kalahasti Nov 2017
Our first kiss was in my basement, one year,
and three hundred and forty-seven days ago,

his lips tasted like the saccharine double chocolate chunk ice cream
that he licked off my spoon just minutes ago, beard
brushing against the soft bottom of my chin,
                                                           ­                   his hand slipped
into mine as we walked away from yet another birthday celebrated,
it’s been seven since we first became friends

and his hands have finally stopped trembling.

Her eyes convey concern as her head slowly rises up from mine.

“This is a bad idea.”
In her face, against the lightly accented string lights

I see his eyes, tears welling up,

I know I can’t do this, I can’t kiss her, I can’t lose her

I can’t betray him.

I know this is wrong but

I love her and as she leans back down our lips crash together,
hers are plain, soft, safe,


When he cries, he sniffles more than he sobs, when I see him sad, powerless,
my heart cracks, I made a promise in my basement to never be the cause of this suffering,

my right hand runs through her soft hair, twirled between my *******
left hand resting on her cheek, I can feel that under her eyelid she is helpless,
I feel powerless, captivated by the twinkle in her eyes when she laughs,


I feel as though I am held hostage in her arms, yet a wave of freedom washes over me,

I don't know how I feel all I know is I don't yet want this to end,

we both want this,

yet I tell him it is my fault, I hold him close to my chest, my fingers run through
his wildly curly hair,
                     she pulls me closer as we continue to fight rationality,
and in this moment, we are breathing in synchrony, I taste nothing saccharine,

only feeling her soft lips and a bittersweet moment
11.6.17

edit: this poem was written as an assignment for my poetry class, in which we were told to put ourselves in the shoes of a character who had made a life changing decision that we ourselves would never make. i would never cheat, this poem was written as pure fiction with no basis in real life.
Jordan Rowan Nov 2015
There's a sign on your door
It said "don't come in anymore,
I'm still changing"
It broke your heart
To watch me fall apart
But you can't help the way you feel
Only you know if it's real

The Fort Meyers sun
Burns on your hair
The horizon gets the privilege of your stare
The sky turns to gray
When you look away
You can't help the way you feel
Only you know if it's real

Dance, little sister, in the Gulf of Mexico
Break a heart or two
Break them all and once they're long ago
I will be there for you

Take a risk, darling
Make this mistake
How long does affection take?
There can be a million miles
Between two states of mind
But I need to tell you what's in mine
I'm running out of time
AKIKO Oct 2017
My poem is me
Everything related to me

I saw myself like a paper
That lifeless without a letter

And my experience in my ballpen
When I mistaken
And then I'm going to erased
But then the mark is still there
Always reminds me my yesterday

So now I disided to used a pencil
So that my mistake
Will come to be lifeless and buried with a grave
SimpleWritings Dec 2018
i use stardust
to make her fall in love with me
she uses gunpowder
to push me away

all
because
of
one
s-t-u-p-i-d
doing

03/11/2018
Kira Sep 2018
She looks in the mirror and sees a mistake, a broken girl with no direction, a girl who does not deserve love or happiness, no way to cover the ugliness.
She hates her personality, she hates her face, she hates all the things that she cannot change. She wishes that everything she saw in the mirror would simply fade away.

I looked at her with only admiration for the beauty I saw in her soul. She was perfect in my eyes. She was everything I could never be. I loved her with everything that I am, but I was nothing compared to the truth in the mirror.
If only we could see ourselves through others eyes.
Joliver Aug 2018
I don't need flowery words
To tell you
I'm not suicidal
It's just that
Sometimes
With all the mistakes I've made
All the pain I've caused
And all my flaws
I feel like I don't deserve
To keep living
Em MacKenzie Oct 2018
Every human has an addiction;
caffeine, cigarettes, ***, alcohol, social media, working out.
Even not having an addiction is having an addiction to not having one.

The thing about addiction, and whatever fix you are addicted to,
is that it will make you feel on top of the world
while below your world is actually crashing.
The things we love are usually not good for us,
it’s human nature, it’s weakness,
it’s vulnerability.

My body was addicted to drugs.
My mind is addicted to overthinking.
My heart has been addicted to aching,
and my soul will always be addicted to you.

They should establish a rehab centre for a person.
Too many addictions but only two are killing me.
Kate Nov 2018
It's three in the morning
The mourning hour.
The hour where naught is awake but
Lovers and dreamers
And those deemed too far gone by the rest of us;
To which we send a wilting flower.

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour.
Here I mourn the loss of life
When I took a sterile sword to my own heart
And peered into the gaping, gaping void
Dissolving away the ghost that haunts my hollow tower.

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour.
I mourn the incursion that initiated it
Mourn a life I have known so well
As well as a life I think I shall not meet
Tied, side by side, in a waking melancholy sour.

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour.
Doves less mournful than I have passed on to sleep
And he is, as I dream, forming faster each day
Only now, in death, so dear to me
And I reach out, into the darkness of the night
And end the mourning hour.
An eternal grieving I shall bear forevermore.
K Harris Dec 2018
Ive been giving little pieces of myself to people.
But ive never given someone enough to get the full view of who I am.
Some see my addictions.
Some know what keeps me up at night.
One knows that I havent felt at home in years.
Some know that taking care of myself is a battle and that Im not always sure about fighting anymore.
A few get to see how sweet my heart can be but that never lasts.
Only a handful know my past, know about how I run when I get feelings. Since the others dont know they dont stick through or try to talk me down from it. They just let me go.
Im a mystery that nobody gets the real chance to solve before I disappear.
Im a ghost haunting the potential relationships I could’ve had before my apparition fades to black.
The ghosts of the past dont haunt me anymore but sometimes they pay me a visit, whispering to me in the dark.
    Just let someone in.
       Last time was just the wrong person
Im moments before fading away
   But do they ever miss me?
c Jan 15
I worry that
I may be
An electron.

The negative charges
Are building beneath
The shield that I choose
To call my ribcage,
Painting my lungs blue
And weighing it
With my mistakes.

I cannot exist alone,
All too willing
To give myself away
To anything that somehow
Makes me feel whole.

I’m sorry
I couldn’t tell you sooner,
But our problems
Can’t be solved
With science.
Wayward Sep 2018
I told myself I'd never fall again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I wouldn't love again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never trust again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never truly smile again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never be able to laugh again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never be loved again,
Yet here I am.
I  told myself I'd never be happy again,
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd stay happy.
Yet here I am.
I told myself I'd never cry over you,
Yet here I am.
I told myself you'd always be there for me,
Yet here we are, far apart.

Oh the beautiful lies and the false hope we gave ourselves.
When will we learn to descend
From the fantasy that we built
Farewell love, I'm glad that we met
Random, hazy, raw, and true
That's what I was going for.
Exploring out of the rhyme scheme and basic metaphor.
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