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Chris Neilson May 2016
Never really cut the cords
to my mother's apron strings
used to keep my head below the parapet
in among the underlings

Slowly overcoming
the underdog within me
given access to the manager's door
I'd still throw away the key

Feel more Manc than British
never flown a union flag
no pride in ruling waves
life has more than a price tag

Rejecting the governing minority
where those with money have most to gain
representing the downtrodden majority
where my heart and soul is lain
Lizzy Jan 2015
"Poor Yorick!",
His soul is saved.
Safe and sound,
In cold unbeing.

Cold unbeing,
For whom I am so hungry.
It's bitter tundra will fill me,
But my fire won't go out.

The burning won't stop,
And my ashes only gather.
There's something very wrong,
With a blistering winter.

Oh Yorick,
I envy.
Your sleep is undisturbed;
Where I am only tired.

You are bones,
And King Hamlet is a ghost.  
Floating like him and stagnant as you,
I cannot rest.

My sleep is disturbed.
Like the king, I can't find peace.
But like Yorick,
I am hollowed bones.
Lyn Senz 2 Jul 2016
She looks away
once a well
now a shell
a can, a hand
unopened

and the lawyer tells her
she's okay
but she barely hears him
anyway
there's nothing left
to say

her bluster
where did it go?
and leave her there
so all alone
letting them crush her

'we knowed some thugs
they sold some drugs'

now she's never going home


©2011 Lyn
fyi I plagiarized my own poem
'so old' to help me make this one.
Iska Feb 2018
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to ****
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And ***** away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
stefan badham Nov 2018
poor lil snowflake
falling
fluttering
poor lil snowflake
things so deeply felt
poor lil snowflake
always ready to melt
poor lil snowflake
well melt away lil snowflake
as I **** on you
read things properly, in their context, before getting your flags out and running crying and screaming to teacher.
Lyn Senz Nov 2013
Pete is lying on a beanbag
underneath a cover white

hears a rumble from below him
wakes up with an awful fright

then a hand comes by and slaps him
grabs his head and holds on tight

poor Pete's always getting beat on
almost every single night!


©2012 Lyn
jeremy wyatt Mar 2011
Poor wee cat lost in the dirt
trodden on when wee and hurt
lived on worms and ***** things
insects crawlies all with wings
you fell lucky furry boy
found a family full of joy
hunted you until they won
took you in for love and fun
now you weigh a lot of pounds
your belly drags along the ground
but such a baby you're so sweet
rubbing all around our feet
"Dry me off then put some food
in my dish please don't be rude!"
I have to say that in my mind
a cuter moggie can't be found
If am born next as a cat
I'll be like Wilson soft and fat!
Oni Olusegun Jul 2017
Somehow I ended up poor,
Ended as mere dream my world tour
Fancy cribs, fast cars, model wife
Dinner with kings and good life --
Just me and my ****** ol' guitar
Needless to say, it's out of tune.
Oh!  I have a dog - wagging its tail
Go to sleep, june
Tonight, no midnight tale
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
come if you're thirsty, come if you're stained
come if you're weary, come if you're pained
come to the water, the bread and the blood
come to Christ's soul-saving covenant flood
there's no one too *****, no one too poor
no one too broken whose faith He'll ignore
come if you hear Jesus calling your name
come to be free of all guilt and all shame
come if you're willing to cast out old strife
come lay your burden and take up new life
autumn-rachelle May 2018
We never had enough when we were young.
We never needed much, but the exact amount was unknown.
We never got enough; toys food or clothes.
We didn't need that much, so "barely" was the most.

We never got enough of your time.
We didn't understand, the eldest not yet nine.
We didn't get enough, affection or warmth.
We never took for granted, but your time spent was short.

We didn't want more than enough, somehow understanding all you had.
We never asked for much: to play or share or cuddle.
We never got that, you liked to stay in your bubble.
We didn't ask for this, to be born, or brought into your life.

We didn't choose the love, or the lack thereof.
We didn't need the money, you hid away from us.
We had enough for us four, your greed was just because.
We had enough, We had enough, We had enough.

We had enough time, to learn proper affection.
We had enough vocabulary for simple conversation.
We had enough feelings, to know you didn't care.
We were not selfish, so why didn't you share?

Was it that we weren't enough, you needed a new man?
Was it that we weren't calm enough, it got out of hand?
Was it that you didn't have enough, of the finer things in life?
Was it that you didn't think enough, before becoming an underage wife?

Now we live out our lives, believing we aren't enough.
Now we live out our lives, always trying to be more, never being enough.
Now we live out our lives, working hard at enough.
Now we live out our lives, still not understanding the problem wasn't us.
the song of my existence.

any suggestions or corrections are always welcome!
Iska Oct 2018
genius comes in fragments
poetry comes in slivers of sentences
open to all
yet mastered by none
merely mortals weaving a web
a web of words
of truths and lies
of things made plain
and things we hide
and as we navigate this artful web
we realize just how much we are out of our depth
Äŧül Dec 2018
Back at a time
I met with a serious accident
No major bones fractured
Just intracranial injuries
And
The impact
Continues even now

Now in my PhD
I read a lot of scientific stuff
Memorize little
Reproduce lesser
And
Get myself
Even lesser marks

7th of May in 2010
Was the date unfortunate
On which I met
With the accident
And
Rode myself
Into The Oblivion
My HP Poem #1726
©Atul Kaushal
Something must be mislaid
Or things aren't this way before,
nothing is able to excite thy soul
nor can I anymore trust thy heart,

The way thy mind is growing up
The things thy consciousness meditate upon
Are but way far from everything real,

How do I deal now?
Thy sun ain't shining,
Thy sky is void,

I have seen people dying and
suffering and screaming
O poor God, why we while the fault is  yours ?
Albuna Sep 2018
I should have knew it from the start , that guys like you just break my heart.

I should have listened to my mind but it was too late, he owned my heart...
My poor heart...
Let fold arms
And stare at each other
Or let tell the truth with arms
open
Dead is a good thing
Dead is  wonderful
Dead is compulsory
Dead is universe
Dead is painful
But the other hand is a good thing
Dead make's us strong
Tell me why is dead wicked?
We all pray for someone to die
Sometimes dead gives us a reason to smile
Dead is acceptable
Dead is a challenge
Dead is a challenge
Dead is the reason why we live again
I’m trying harder to be
      Less than you
‘Cause when I’m more
     The mirror lies and
Nights don’t sleep
     Vanity my pillow
Days steal sunlight
     Swindling the clouds and
Postponing the storm
      I try to weather it but
I’m a poor pedestal
      A few screws too loose
A steady buckling beneath the weight
       of an angry world
Breaking my plastic painted legs
       Sending me low, low, lower than you        
Teaching me painfully, purposefully that
      there is wisdom found in reticence
And divine freedom in a storming supplication
          Flood me clean
Give me a mirror that offends me
       ****** my thin skin with honesty
Spills my black blood into the vanity
      Where my vanity lies
by telling me I am more than you
Hope White Mar 20
I can't pay my rent today.
I can't write poetry, either,
because I took a pill,
that I spent my rent money on,
and I can't write on this pill.
But this pill promised me
it would make me beautiful.

Imagine making a cocktail
with crushed glass
instead of ice.
It would **** you,
but it'd be so beautiful.
Blood would drip from your lips
like lipstick, deadly and red,
but it'd be so beautiful.

Imagine paying your rent with poetry.
You'd be back on the streets,
and strangers probably would think
that maybe, pretty white girl,
you're a self-inflicted martyr,
a heroine against the culture
or maybe just that
you just do ******,

but it'd be so beautiful.
vanished in the allure of time,
my spirit grows in a flower,
I am dead and still alive,
ashes blown up in the sky,
burn my flesh, burn me alive,
the youthful poor, the richness of life,
I am the spiritual emotion,
the flesh of hopes and bleeding bones,
steam and clouds above the sea,
my soul will reach the luxury of time.
My Book 'The Allure Of Time' is now available on amazon. Get your copy and get inspired by the wisdom of my book.
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