The sun seems to rise,
When you looked at me
My happiness was a thread
Pulling me, forcing me towards you.
My smile was only present
When you talk to me.

You gave me light
You gave me joy
then you threw it away
breaking the thread
along with myself

no more light
no more happiness
with u gone
and now u
left me
to burn
in the dust
and i can’t pretend
like it was ok

my poison like qualities
spread to u
pushing u away
and who can
blame u
for wanting to get away
frm me
as i
rot
nto
nthing
bc
idc abt anythng
n e more

these days its not that hard.
but i hate you so much.
i hate you for having everything.
pretending like you cared.
you had me.
then you threw me out.
i put my heart in your hands.
you sat at your table with your knife and fork, and ate it.
until there was nothing left
i hate you.
i hate you for leaving.
i hate you for being okay, after everything.
your still okay.
its like nthing happend.
your so **** for being better then me.

IS POETRY OLD FASHIONED?
Each time has its men and art.
Shakespeare died long time ago.
Verse and plays could charm past minds.
Now, no one reads what you say.

When you write a poem, try
to convince someone to hark.
All around you people shun
What you think is nicely done.

All alone they rush to read
common things on the Facebook.
When they see you, they retreat,
fearing boredom and your hook.

Don't exhaust your time on what
People are disgusted with.
Nthing useless recompense
for your time and self-esteem.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________