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SMN Dec 2014
you see,
that’s the problem
with being the strong one
who always offers others
a hand
everyone thinks that you
don’t need a hand and
they think you have lots
of surplus energy and no
worries

*(s.m)
sara Jul 2018
My heart is whole
but it has sharp edges.
It got wet on my sleeve;
now, it hangs from my necklace

-round like a pendant; hurt hangs
round my neck with a vengeance:
like a lighthouse on a dark night,
blinding sailors- offensive.

It draws them in like a siren's call,
but the sky bleeds red at the first sign of morning.
The captain is certain he'll lock land at dawn,
but does any type of siren sing its song without a warning?
Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning; red sky at night, sailor's delight.
jcl Dec 2018
you are the center, the sun in the sky
warming, lighting, guiding those below

you are the core, the hub in the wheel
forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle

you are the earth, the bedrock beneath
supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives

you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives
nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams

you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land
tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth

your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart
from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever

you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child
reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away

you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives
fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
Thank you Mom, for the sacrifices, you made for me.
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
I cracked the window to my past
wondering, hoping, I was strong enough to bear
what was left of the pain
of the life I’d left behind.

But the pain, still real, erupted inside
ripped wide the scar.
Blood and tears combined, exploded
and filled my mind and soul with fear.

I feel myself slip down that lonely road again
being drawn down that black ribbon;
its blackness seeps in through the cracks in my soul
and muddy the joy I knew.

How can I brace myself against
the tide pulling me,
holding me,
enveloping me,
and dragging me down
until I no longer can breathe
beneath its endless waves?

I fear now I may never be so strong
as to face my memories.
So I entomb these behind a mighty shield
like the Chernobyl of my past.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Pitch Hiker Jul 2018
The rain felt beautiful.
The grass stuck to my body itched
But I secretly miss that feeling
On any sunny day
I feel meaning in the way the field slants
Its always done that
The white paint has faded away
I love it when it stains my fingertips
Every shot leaves a tail of water
And the rippling sound of the ball sliding down the net
The way that the rain falls on me
Feels beautiful
Literally washing away my worries
As I never feel truly tired
As if every drop was distracting me
From my physical state
This makes me feel strong
Arianna G Apr 2014
I can feel them on my skin.
I feel their electricity, so powerfully pleasing, pulling me in.
Every glance, makes my stomach dance.
The longer it lingers, I ache for her fingers laced between mine.
Because,
it's only in those moments
that things seem fine.
Lost Girl Nov 2018
I am a warrior.
Stronger than her demons.
Braver than the darkness.
Morgan Mercury Sep 2013
I am not superman.
I carry around guns for protection.
I have killed many
And never was sorry.
I have stolen from men
who have stolen from others.
Do not look at me as a savior,
Not even as a big brother,
because I am nothing of a role model.
My wings have broken
and I don't even have a place to call home.
Pain is written on my skin with the smirk of a devil
leaving cracks all over for sorrow to sneak its way in and bury itself deep into my bones.
So give me hope because I'm not man enough to create my own.
I keep putting other's lives before mine hoping that counts as love
but wind up realizing that doesn't count as anything
Trust me, I'm no superman.
I can't even save myself.
I've burned my cape in the fires of hell because I've been there enough
to know I can't wear it anymore.
I have flaws enough to fill the ocean and I'm sick of drowning
and I'm tired of counting dead bodies
and I’m tired of swimming through waves I'm not big enough for.
So hear the violin and piano play my symphony
of the fallen man.
I never said I could fly.
I never said I could save your life.
I never gave up though.
So hold me tight and let me finally break and fall into the arms of someone I can trust and someone I know that'll keep my heart safe buried next to theirs.
I've played wicked games and lost too many times and now I just want to sleep.
I'm tired of turning up black and blue
But I'll do anything to protect you.
If you were never here then I would have ended this a long time ago.
I would have welcomed the salt water into my lungs
Or fall asleep in a tree and meet death in the morning as I hang in silence.
But now I beg for hope because I'm torn apart.
But I know am seen as your superman so I’m going to hang on with all my might,
And live this life with you
as a hero
as your superman.
Dean Winchester
Supernatural
sara Jul 2018
I wipe marker off the board, and
I have a painful tendency of quickly growing bored.
I can't erase the ink-spots lingering
in high-up corners;
to spare the self-defeat, I teach myself how to ignore them.

Ignore the marks, and stains, and pains
pretend I'm wiped clean, all the same
with little left to lose or gain:
I leave them; growth is self-restraint.

Perfection is a non-existent notion,
so they say;
yet, unobtainability is all I can create.
For in my mind, these false ideals make tame desires stray,
and self-destructive pleasure is my antidote to pain.

I think I'm like a little plant
of stunted growth, just seeds to start,
my plantpot made from breaking hearts:
before I grow, I say I can't.
Before we accept something we must first wholeheartedly reject it.
/////
like England winning the world cup lol

////
Joking, I just use humor to mask my emotions x
JayceeJellies Mar 2015
My little sister, is bright.
My little sister is unique.
My little sister is confident.
My little sister is funny,
But she's a bully.

My little sister is a bully,
I can hear it in her words.
She's someone I would hide from,
If I were in the same school as her.

My little sister is a bully,
But she's still changing.
I think the reason she's so blunt,
Is because she's afraid of being like me.

My little sister is afraid,
She saw me crying everyday.
So she shields herself with words.
It makes me feel like I've ruined her.

My little sister is a fighter,
She is thin but strong.
She's someone I want to be.
Hopefully she's still smiling.

My little sister is depressed.
But her smile is still wide.
She knows not to hide.
EBTI Dec 2016
I am that strong girl
Who cares but, don't say
Who cries and feel the pain
Who acts mysterious but, she knows it's just a game
She thinks but, her thoughts are all over the place
She knows she is bigger but, still playing with those beginners what a waste!
She's been hurt so many times, now she doesn’t know where to begin in this race
Are they with us? Or are they our enemies?
But, now she knows them by the face
She gives what she needed the most
But, they don't know
She asks herself “do they really deserve it?”
every time she forgets herself
Yeah that girl, who questions every relationship she has
Like there's a lot of them ..
But when she give, she gives hard
Love hard, livs hard
She knows how much she is Beautiful
But does she ?
She always says it to herself
But is she really?
Because she got lost between the words she write
You know, it's the only way to express herself
She doesn’t  tell anybody if she was sad
She doesn't even cry
She just says “I hate the world”
Basic right?
But she says it in her own way
She says it with hope inside, she knows there is a better way, she got to discover it , but with out herself?
Oh darling what a sad story you have
But they don't know they judge you from the outside
But you are who you are and you don't care.
Juhlhaus Mar 5
From where the bridge was, after the first plunge
Soothed the sunburnt skin and the hay-splinters
Loosed the straw stuck in ears
After I left you under the porch light
I stood alone on the other side of the night
Where poplars reached for the moon and stars
And the cows chewed on bits of memory from when
In the cobwebs and calf pens
They were brought to life by your gentle hands

You crossed two worlds to find me in the darkness
But I was not the one you were searching for
You prayed for miracles while
God stood by, arms crossed
Taking in the sunset and the clouds
Like an old tree beside a grave carefully fenced
To keep it disheveled amid tended fields
Thus the cancer had its way and I could not
Fill the void left in your heart or mine

With no more tears to soften dry leather
I put both our hearts on skewers and held them
Over the bridge's burning planks
Too close and they were immolated
Not carefully spun to stay golden and warm inside
So I packed my hollow heart full of nothing
Filled the passenger seat, until
There was only room for me and the steering wheel
And no way to turn
Cress Rosario May 2014
I saw you standing there
I know you cannot bear
With weary eyes and skin so dry
You looked down wanting to cry

You want to hide in unknown places
Kept running away from your fears
Covering up your ears
To the words you don't want to hear

Storming days suddenly passed
You didn't moved until the sunlight flashed
You looked up and surveyed the sky
Finally found a reason to smile
A new chapter in life is a simple reason to keep people stronger than before.
Esther Krenzin Oct 2018
Strong and resolute, it stands
seeking with claw-like limbs
for sunlight and raindrops.
Leaves, crimson and gold
slip from trailing branches
coming to rest on frozen ground.
Whispering and sighing
the great oak bends and sways
in the icy wind.
Roots, beneath the surface
delve deep down
growing
strengthening
as ages pass--
untouched by frost.
The strong winds may blow
and wage their wars
brittle branches may splinter.
But still the oak stands
bending
not breaking against the forces.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
We must learn to be more flexible in life, and not let the world make us hard and unforgiving. If a tree were hard and brittle, than it would break and fall over. And if it had no roots, it would never be standing in the first place. When we are born, we are born a tree bud with roots like small veins. As the years past we grow and learn the ways of the world, our roots growing and spreading. Life may be difficult, there may be suffering, and we may become hard and splinter into pieces. But remember that everything that is broken, comes back stronger than before. I once saw lightning strike down a towering oak, causing it to fall and leave nothing but a barren stump.
After a year or two, a little tree began to grow from the stump of its former self, becoming everything it was before it fell--if not even more beautiful.
To this day, it still stands, looking as if nothing ever happened.
Life will knock you down, but it is your choice whether or not you will stand up again, or stay down.
We think that being strong
is being emotionless,
being harsh,
never letting your tears fall,
boosting your fears and your pain,
in you instead of releasing it.
Refusing to admit
that you are sad or weak.

But that is not true;
Being strong is letting out,
all the pain and the tears.
Cry whenever you feel like,
do not hold it
unless you want your heart to burst,
or live an unhappy painful life.

Crying is not a crime
it does not only clean you eyes,
but also eases your heart.
You feel more re-leaved and stronger
when you cry.
Ease you heart and that is what will make you stronger.
Saltnoon Apr 2016
i saw the veins on your hands as you carried me to safety
I saw you slouching with your back as you waited patiently for the doctor's words
I saw you feeding me rice when I could barely say 'grandmother'

And now I'm watching you sleep on the hospital bed
I am as worried as you were when I was too sick to breathe

Your inconsistent heartbeats brought my mama to tears
But I'm still here
remembering how much you told me to stay strong
get well soon, grandma..
cait-cait Jan 2015
can hearts be heavy like
the bags under my eyes,
or is my
illusion of gratitude
just stronger than
my effort to stay awake
im so tired i hate working and i hate being alone***, and now i have to write more for class ugh ****
Your** destiny. Choose it.
Your voice. Use it.
Your mind. Feel free to lose it.
(C) 2015
Osiria Melody Mar 13
She sits alone among the hive of chipper folks.
Blends like camouflage in a forest of seclusion.
Lives life as if it were a never-ending hoax.
Suicide on her mind, day and night.

She breathes the air, wishing it were poison.
Blends her false emotions like watercolors.
Another fatal thought shoots her rationality.
Suicide on her mind, day and night.

She cries tears to drain her sadness,
only to find comfort in feeling broken.
The only emotion that she's ever felt
because the world told her that her life
isn't worth it anymore.

Her folks do not give a care because
depression is just an "attention-seeking
state of mind."
Her friends brand her as a liar because
"everything's in her head."
Her neighbors even asked, "Why aren't
you not alive?"

S U I C I D E  O N  H E R  M I N D ,  
D A Y  A N D  N I G H T .

She sells an expensive smile that buys
your trust of "she's fine." No, she's not.
Depression is a knife that cuts and heals
her, a relentless test against her inner-strength.



Melody
3/13/19
Although it may seem easier to push your agony into a corner than to heal, you're far more stronger than you believe; you matter in this world because
you're capable of conquering anything.
sara Jun 2018
I'm anti-attachment
and I cant help that
I'm a hardback book bound tight-
Always on the rewrite
every word placed right
because it's so important;
that you read me right;
that you see things right;
undress your mind for me
under the right light
because
God above
I don't want tears tonight
if I tell you it's not serious
or when I make you work or wait
it's obviously worth the work
and even more than worth your wait.
I don't like games
I play it straight;
you're either with it
or you ain't.
So if you do not like the blurb
don't bother reading my first page.
something other than love poetry for the lady in the back please
Peter Garrett Apr 23
My father taught me how to be a man:
"Male is the strong gender"
"Boys and girls can't be friends"
And "feminists are crazy hairy chicks
Solving their daddy issues
By fighting over an empty cause"

Still, my heart screamed rebellion
How can male be the strong gender
When mom is the strongest person I know?
How can't boys and girls be friends
When my deepest connections are with them?
And how can feminism be an empty cause
When women are beaten, ***** and decreased everyday?

He couldn't bend my spirit
Nevertheless, I've learned so much
With all of his wrong examples of manhood
Which helped me to be twice the man he ever was
And yet not even half as brave as those insane ladies
Standing their ground and clamoring their rights
I am Strong


because I have loved you for this long

because I am able to look to you with another

because I've spent all these days without being with you

because I still loved you even though you would not love me back

because I went through all this pain without you even knowing

because I wrote my heart out, breaking it over and over again

because I looked into your eyes and deceived myself with false hope

because I've had nightmares of you, believing they were dreams





and because  I Love You







Yes, I am Strong...

                                                  ­      
                                                            ...j­ust not Strong enough to tell you

                  
  
                                                                ­      
                                                 I Love You.
Not strong enough to let you go
Carter Ginter Jan 2013
There is no true definition
For what we strive to be
For what we want people to see
And what we never feel.
Being strong is not a choice
It's a state of being
It's beyond seeing
And it stands high.

True strength is forced upon you
When you can't take it anymore
And life keeps handing you more
But you don't have the choice to fall.

It becomes a habit
Turns into who you are
No way to sway too far
Near the way you used to be.
No longer caring
You become cold
Now being bold
In the very worst of ways.

Because as I hide behind my pain
I push everyone away
And face each and every day
With a mindset of fighting alone.
My friends don't see it
The struggle and pain
With their stares of vain
Not breaking my barriers.

I know it's gone too far
"Strength" taking over my fear
I watch my friends disappear
And still don't let them see my pain.
But the words haunt me deep
"You wanna shut yourself in go ahead"
I feel him giving up on me
"I'm trying to help you"
"I'm sorry"
I've always considered strength as how well you can hide the pain. And I guess my mask has turned into a problem. The quotes are from one of my best friends who I haven't had a real conversation with for probably a month. I'm basically sitting back and watching my friends leave because they can't stand my distance. I'm sorry guys, I do love you and am grateful for your attempts.
For everyone else, strength isn't being heartless. Don't let your fear destroy who you are. Because it can and will. And then you will need to be strong forreal; alone.
Tanay Sengupta Jul 2018
Rain on me,
For I have been longing to be free.
Lost in my world, needlessly.

Rain on me,
For I am too tired and I need sleep.
This world is a herd and I cannot be its sheep.

Rain on me,
And show me the way.
This place is empty and I cannot stay.

Rain on me,
It has been too long.
I am sick and tired of pretending to be strong.

Rain on me,
I want to see the lightning pierce the sky.
As the thunder roars and the clouds fly.

Rain on me,
Let the winds take my mind to another land.
No one needs to know and no one needs to understand.







Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.
I came up with this while I was watching the rain from my window, a few days back. I hope you like it.
Julia Jan 2018
His strong arms
hold me close and tight
keeping me warm.

His strong arms
are raised up to fight
those wishing harm.

His strong arms
lift me high like I'm
a jar full of air.

His tender fingers
twist the tendrils in
my naked hair.

His face, his feet, his chest, his gut inside it
are Chakras he never hided
when we both decided

...to show each other
let go of our pasts
to grow in each other.

We each have the strengths the other lacks,
but how can we make space living on each other's backs?

His strong arms
tend me like
a living room.

His strong arm
sows seeds in
my bleeding womb.

His arms stronger than any enemy's of mine
cannot fight what they cannot find.

Demons he cannot see he cannot face,
so they will take me away from him without a trace.
Shoutout to my demon demolishing hunk of a future husband
Deep Sangani Oct 2018
To all the women I've  ever called pretty,
before strong or intelligent,
I am sorry.

I am sorry I made it sound as though
something as simple as what you're born with
is the only thing you could be proud of
when you have crushed the sky.

I will, from now, call you resilient, or extraordinary.
Not because you are not pretty,
but because you are so much more than that.
Heres to strong women.
May we know them.
May we be them.
May we raise them

- Rupi Kaur
RK Mar 2018
If I had known before I'd decided to take on this task, into this labyrinth of a living hell, how it would have broken my heart.
Would I have attempted to?
It was too much for any soul to go through  such pain and torment.  The sages of the ages have forewarned, it is not for the faint hearted.  So many different strands, layers and knots to work through.

I didn't even know where to start.  I looked within as far as I could, to see how I ended up in this tangled web of confusion.

I  set about the work of separating, to untangle the different layers, down to the very root, to the core, the beginning.

The dark night of the soul took me on a journey, one I had created by my own stupidity and utter ignorance. I couldn't yet see the true cause for my sin for the light was dim.  There was still a long way to go to the centre.  
And it wasn't easy.

Friends and family couldn't understand how important it was for me to work through the tension.  My body soul and mind, torn asunder by the pressure I was under.  There was no rest, no relief. A labour of love was my reason.  At all costs I had to undo these awful unruly knots, to undo the damage done, to return to the original splender. I had created this unforgiving state where I now found myself. Not being aware of the difficulty I had gotten myself into.

It felt like treason.

Patience was the prerequisite to the success of this operation. Layer by unending layers it became easier. Loosening  out the knots with gentle care, a prayer, a desire to be; amidst all this work and frustration. To bring to an end this living nightmare of hell, suffering and endurance.

I knew it was hard for others to understand. Nothing could take me away from all these strands. To get back to where all the trouble started. Somehow a gentle peace entered, a stirring of gratitude, love and acceptence.

A surrendering---


Finally, and gratefully, I held the whole ball of beautiful soft green wool unblemished, in my hand, now back to its original beauty
Im knitting  for my grandchildren and one of the ***** of wool got so tangled, it ended up a living nightmare. I could have just left it, but somehow I felt the need to undo the tangles. It took me three days to work through. there were strands of wool stretched all over my kitchen . It's very rewarding to not give in, to persevere . Well I'm a bit like that you see.
So I took the start of the wool from the centre of the ball but made a huge mess of it.
Thank you for reading.
Peace
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