"protray" poems
The illusion some protray just to all be the same and want the same
Subliminals, the media, and soical sites..
No one wants to be the same and treated different from others
So why portray this illusion
Be different, be who you are, display your imagine and inner feelings
Be happy with who you are..
The illusion..that's what they want you to protray!
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
An ashtray full of buts smoked away by conversations of the past.
I'll show you open wounds that can't be healed,
If you tell me secrets that, til then, they had last.
Hang up those shoes with holes of adventure,
on the subsiquencial line to nothingness.
It's not as if we'll spawn again,
you've already left me to forget,
but you can not pretend that none of this was worth anything,
that you wouldn't come back if it hadn't gone to ****
You can't just blame me for the things that you did!
Untied laces,
Missing pieces,
empty bowls and missing lighters.
unforgotten memories eating at me,
the person i was taunting the person I've become.
I've always heard the weak pull down the strong.
these inevitably destructive visions,
unfinished cigarettes,
half empty bottles flat in the morning,
stolen clothing and broken glass.
I doubt whatever this seems to be,
the feeling that hits me from the past,
a confused, somehow nostalgic me.
Yet, everything is better now,
no one to be harmed by and no one to soak up disrespect from,
only a perfect protray of everything I lacked before,
and this.. this is what I've been in need of,
a reliability that I love and they may love me in return.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
The script were reading,
As we act out our lives.
As we read between the lines
When the curtain slowly opens
We act out our lies.
We cannot protray a hope,
From a wishing well.
I cannot betray my feelings by show and tell.
I don't know what happened,
But the feelings gone.
I tried to get it back but it left me alone.
I can't take the lead,
In which I cannot see.
And I can know longer read,
What I don't feel.
Time cannot paint a portrait of the way it use to be.
Please don't put on those sad eyes when you look at me.
But a play always ends,
As sad as it may be.
And the curtain always closes,
As it will,
For you and me.
I don't know what happened,
But the feelings gone.
I tried to get it back but it left me alone.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC