"ruthful" poems
I used to think that sadness was beautiful,
But what is the point of it all? We're supposed to be youthful!
They said time and time over that it would pass, but to be truthful:
The feeling and expressing pain or sorrow for sins, it's all we feel: ruthful
So in the end, what is the point of life at all?
When all we do is sit around and bawl,
"I just wanted to be pretty Cristi, just like a doll!"
But isn't it more important to be happy, above all?
All I have been feeling for the past couple of years is pain,
Even though all I have wrapped around my neck is a golden chain
Rather than his clenched fingers restricting against my jugular vein,
With a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of my engraved Mark of Cain,
It begs and exclaims, and it can't seem to remain restrained,
But to ease me of my pain, they'd say: "Here, have a glass of Champagne."
Can't you see what this mystery is doing to me?
I can't seem to break the shackles that would set me free,
All I'm reminded of is of my unfinished Master's Degree.
"Is that all that matters to you?!" I dare to plea,
"But what about my happiness, or my hemophilia b?!"
Their expressions are forever carved in my mind: dropped jaws and widened eyes,
"If it is such a sin to be happy, can't one consider the act of decriminalize?!"
They'd all put up such a convincing and eerie disguise
As if it would turn back the clock to avoid their end, their demise
But I could tell by their silenced, hushed lips and snake eyes:
My inquiry deserved a Nobel prize
What was it about my question that turned my loved ones against me?
They wouldn't dare turn their heads my way, they'd continue to sip on their black tea
As if I were a ghost, or some sort of banshee
The loss of my sanity is what they could foresee
-
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
Love is an amazing thing
People just mix up what hurts.
Love is Beautiful
Rejection is sad
Love makes a mortal hopeful
Disappointment makes him mad
Love is supposed to be Truthful
Lying makes the relationship go bad
Thus making the mortal ruthful
And begins placing feelings on a writing pad
Claiming " love is hurtful"
Lies, your words are ******** clad
For love is bliss.
-fir.m
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
Guess I'll be postponing December's reconstructive surgery
There's nothing like being delayed from your own burglary
It had potential too, well maybe if it wasn't so ruthful
I'll still tentatively deem it as successful
I started to shed the lingering fatigue
I began to think of my completed protocols
Triggered the realization I need the reconstruction after all
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 10:05 AM UTC
Dear Ernesto Hugo de Castro,
Keep breathing and keep thinking,
we'll **remember that somewhere,
along the lines, you were there**,
since you have something to gain.
I like reading your poems and poetry,
I also like that you express yourself clearly,
I also like that you know how life does hurts
and I like your ruthful and inspiring works.
I love knowing your writing and trueness,
I also love how reaching perfection you do,
and, last but not least, I also love you.
- Ludapoetry
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
I search,
in every reflection of myself.
Try and define,
in every hidden compartment of my essence,
what beauty lies without and within my very person.
When I close my eyes just to listen,
I faintly hear rhythm in my heartbeat, melody in my laughter,
a sing song way that I speak my words. If I read my soul correctly,
words of pure intentions,
may over throw my ruthful disguises.
If I'm squinting,
I can see the gorgeous face people claim I have,
big brown eyes full of wonder,
delicate lips so softly kissable.
I've been thinking of this a great deal, letting it consume me in the night, causing sleepless exasperations. Looking deep within myself the truth has finally been revealed.
I was born from the stars,
I am stardust,
nothing more beautiful then the beauty of existence.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC