Mske poems on Hello Poetry

Drunk poet Jul 2018

Not so long ago we were made orphans                                                                                                                  Plucked form the family tree that grew us into a nation                                                                                                   Phobia struck us like cholera                                                                                                                                     Religion armed us against our brothers                                                                                                                         Leaders occupied with zero point agenda.
.
Blood, our special kind of rain                                                                                                                                         poverty, the only completed government project                                                                                                                                                                           Corruption, our newly designed flag                                                                                                                                And breath, our only hope.
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Empty caskets call silently for our body                                                                                                                          As we shoved old bones to make room for new ones                                                                                                      Our pain covered with GREEN and WHITE paints                                                                                                                     Pain, pain all over and over again.
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We've found a new home                                                                                                                                                         Back in the ruins, where we came from                                                                                                                               Let's mske our tents,and forget fishing traps                                                                                                          Because we might be here for an hundred while.

Drunkpoet

Oscar stuta Apr 2020

A lady

She's always written her heart out.
When a heart broken lover.
Pours out all her feelings and translate them into vivid pictures.
Something beautiful gets created.
Appreciated by many but never the one thats meant for him.

I knew you once long ago.
You shared your secrets and i also told you mine.
It was very nice and beautiful.
Silence comfy but we didn't have to try..
Where did you go.

From his lips.
I believed his deceitful manner.
His charisma it was alluring.
My mistake was loving you too hard.
My regret was never telling you.
That i needed love back.

Losing you felt like to hwve hold of the world in my palms.
Letting it slip from my grasp..
Suppose I'll never know how is feels to hold you again.

I am not staying.
I take the blame again.
I've got blood on my hands.
Pressure to understand what i did.

You've always been right.
I tend to forget.
I will not bother or mske that mistake again.
Still my breathing bothers you.
My mind troubles me.
Comfort is scary.

This silence hurts me.
It can be loud like ocean waves.
The sound of your thoughts utterly isolated from my eyes.
I love you.
But love doesn't want me alive.
I can't live up to what you thought i could be.
Thats why i am sending this wave of emotions into page.
That never forget me in your memories.
I've tried but i failed in every endeavor.
Words and love failed me

— The End —