Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
Keep your sea
keep your
treasure trove
just give me a drop.

Reach out to
the open horizon.
It's all yours.

Unleash that
is at the bottom.
It goes to the top!
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
I wanted to reach out to the sky
not to touch any star
just to whisper to the Moon
'How beautiful are you'!

I was still, stunned on the ground  
wandering down the sunrise hill.
In the midst of the morning breeze  
I heard of a whispering
‘The eyes in the sky gaze on the ground’.
So close to me that drew
as if that whispered to me ‘tell me about you’!
Cody Gartner Aug 2014
We stand,
among the past;
alike present,

We love,
perfect, as partials;
as surely as numbers
count, to two.

We reach,
to scale heights;
of the multitude,
in the multiple
of our fingers.

We breath,
as though as
if the babe;
faith, at this new

To stand, we breath,
To love, we reach,
out to, and to all,
when need be,
walk with them.

A sure footing,
to close a distance
ourselves have yet to share.
To an extent found
as thin; yet as hidden
in air.

In a world
we are people;
here, to there.

In a prayer
we are people;
hear, to there.

But when we,
as close as people,
can reach closer
We stand, we love, we breath,
we reach, In prayer.


By, Cody Gartner 5/4/12
© Cody Gartner. All rights reserved
lX0st Mar 2015
Doctors say
Once you reach the age of maturity
You will cease to grow;
But how does that explain
The heights that I reach,
The expansion of my heart,
Or the width of my smile
When I'm wrapped in your arms?
It doesn't.
It is your love.
writerReader Jan 2015
sometimes I
reach within
the fragile paper of
this book to
my fingers through
your silver
Dhia Awanis Oct 2016
I remember they once told me that
music is the best time capsule

It's where people keep their secrets and feelings;
of their insecurities, their mistakes, their sadness, their first cut,
and even the wounds and bruises that invisible to the eye

It's where people let their wildest dreams alive;
of the one they can never reach, the one that will never come back, the one that got away without proper farewell

It's where people store their most sacred memories;
of their first kisses, their first love, their first dance, their first bucket of roses, their first heartbreaks

So they were right after all,

Music is dangerous, yet addicting; it can either tear you apart or put the pieces back altogether, it depends on what kind of ghosts living inside the interlude

Thus, be careful who you listen the music with
some melody is louder than the others
Today I played the music box you gave me on my seventeenth birthday. How odd it is to realize that music sometimes can be a time machine, how every strings and clinks bring me back to you—towards you
In the night ,of my darkest day
I walk awake within my dreams
On twisted paths , my hopes do lay
For me to grasp ,in rainbow beams

The light of stars ,shine on each hope
And with a twinkle, they beckon me
While drops of dew , they form a rope
And as I climb , I fill with glee

I grasp each hope , and hold it tight
And to my heart ,I tuck them in
Then in the dark , I shine so bright
And now my life , it can begin

Written by E. M. Rushton
August 10th 2018
Hopes and Dreams are magical but your mind must also be willing to see beyond.
September Rose Oct 2017
To watch one suffer
To be there as they slowly fall to the rubble
You reach out but as the tides pull in they go further and further from hope
From comfort
A never ending spiral they're falling your fingers slipping through theirs as you let them go
It isn't your fault but blood still runs
And you still remember
AS Jun 27
No I will not reframe!
Now unleashed,
the memory of the beast will breathe.
How he cut us all very deep,
stealing and pealing away boundaries.
Aren't I allow to heal from the disease the monster inflicted.
The seeder of insecurities,
The creator of the fight,
That with the most disgusting,
manipulative mind.
Calling him evil would be kind,
after all the devastation he left behind.
To cure the sickness he planted in the mind.
The moment has gone to keep quite,
to open up about the fright,
let the truth fly free.
A psychopath who loved to leech,
reaping those in his reach.
Not caring about the pain he left,
even with leaving one of them partially deaf.
Getting those around him into a routine delirium.
as he reeked the torment and confusion inside.
Leaving those around him half alive,
removing the opportunity to thrive.
Now your removed from this world,
it can now turn round,
carefully healing the ground.
Your mark has been left,
those who were detained will never be the same.
The feeling of your slime,
your claws and the blood you once drew.
Leaving few in stages of blue,
worst of all leaving behind smaller resembles of you.
One thing I can gladly say,
now as I stride forward and thankful you are now longer alive.

© 2018
Abigail Sheard
Below is a link to how I moved to thriving, instead of trying to survive each day:
PoserPersona Jul 17
Leaves, sticks, and seeds make up this six foot stalk.
Oh, how she blooms before the flashing lights!
Leaving men and women with a stunned gawk.
Oh, you cause the seeds of your kind at night,
to dream of heights they won't reach; how sadly
try the delusional. But in all kin,
is imprinted a faint scar on their psyches.
Sacrificial offer in porcelain
is ritually performed by some daily.
If not for fame, glory, or money, then
to mirror fashion people's ideal beauty.
A cyclic mental disease that won't end.
Shhh.. Here she comes! The first, but not the least.
An appetizer for the famine feast!
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