Toodles poems on Hello Poetry

Black Jun 2014

Goodbye forever or until i see you again
hands that tick but never click
a sound of happy
claps.
Hello, how do you do? To a very old friend
hands that yearn a skin to burn
but seem to sadly
tap.

Saraistone Sep 2017

Toodles

I am a master of goodbyes
Black and whites
Nobody is at fault
Alone
I draw my lines
Define my boundaries
Is this better?
Sober
I can feel it all now
It hurts and crashes into my soul
Empty
I am hollow
The past echoes inside me
A walking heartbreak

#depression #bpd #loneliness #sober

saige Mar 2018

toodles

Goodbyes aren't for good
Only bad and
For granted
For, they are too brief
Forget how many
Days I knew you
It will always take years
To say
"So long"
And not be cut short
By backtracking
Still
I will never quit wishing
You well
Already, I'm missing you
Badly
But
Beneath the twinges
Of "don't go"
I don't know
How
Or when
Or where
Yet alone, why
I just know
We will meet again
In this ring of time
Because goodbyes
Aren't for good

D Apr 2014

To anyone who reads my poetry..

I don't think I'm going to be uploading anymore poetry for a while, a long while, possibly forever..
it just seems like whenever I try and write a poem now, I always seem to keep in mind weather the people who read it will like it, or if it will make sense to others, and though those things are important for when I'm older and trying to publish a book of poems, right now I just feel like writing poetry for anyone other than myself. To me, poetry is a way of understanding how I see things, how I feel about things, and how I'm going to deal with things, its very personal, and lately, i haven't been writing with myself in mind, so I just want to take time away and write for myself only. yeah.. not that I think i'll be missed or anything, but you can still message me or whatever, bc I'll still be on the site reading all of your poetry c: okay toodles.

Brandon brown Oct 2013

Untitled

If the world was all blue, would it still be racist ?
Would they separate the light from the dark blue faces
Would traces of true hate emerge from what is basic
Or would we live free in a world that doesn't hate ****
A Russian and a Haitian, standing side by side
They look exactly the same, but would they still collide ?
I don't know
The world today is so broken
That if I try to imagine better, the gate of thought won't open
It's crazy
We're brainwashed to think that we can't do well
We go through hell cuz we're unable to take help
We sell out or out sell who helped us excel
And when we fail we go to god explaining ourselves
But how do you explain a mindset that isn't you?
How do you live a life that just isn't true ?
Millions of people have died because of drug abuse
Tryna escape the world that was given to them
Little did they know, they'd tell the world toodles
Because they overdosed until their brain turned neutral
But the man gave it to him just to slay a true dude
Now his fam by the caskets seeing what'll suit him

Nagilia Melendez May 2015

Bye

Farewell.
It was real nice.
But it will never be.
It was just a small illusion.
Goodbye.

Take care.
You will be missed.
I enjoyed your beauty.
I did enjoy your company.
Leave me.

Safe paths.
I did like you.
But my feelings end now.
Why fool myself if you'll be gone?
Just go.

Toodles.
See you never.
Or in another time.
Good bye my sweet piece of heaven.
You're gone.

#love #lonely #hate #pain #crush #forbidden #heaven #sweet #abandoned #goodbyes

CJ Sutherland Jun 2024

Adventures of little Paddle, and the Triplets

3 months old little Paddle began to change
His fluffy yellow feathers rearranged
His new feathers silvery brown exchanged

A little taller in stature, neck now long
Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle waddle doddle
Little paddle, full of **** and vinegar
full throttle singing a song

One fine day his family got larger, they say
Mrs. Toodles, and Mr. Doodles and their
3 triplets aunt, uncle cousins, arrived today
Doodle , Caboodle, and Scoodle  Triplets
The girls walking  and talking  liplets

The triplets Doodle, Caboodle,Scoodle and little Paddle scurry flurry off to play
Mrs Fittle, Mr Faddle, Mrs Tootle, Mr. Doodle  between them not much to say
Frazzled and dazzled, caring for their offspring each day

The geese parents getting older
The Young gaggle of geese growing bolder
As the weather grew colder?

The familys stay away from the flock
Each day time takes away the ever changing clock
Both parents know one thing fear the dock

The first snippet and tip it good weather
No longer needing those thick feathers like a sweater
The sweet smell of flowers, hang in the air, lilac, and Heather

It’s time to learn how to Fly
The gaggle of geese begin to nervously cry
Trying to lift off the ground their parents
Not a sound, cautiously, look around
Keep trying, encourage, parent geese flying
Take a run for the sky lift off high battle cry

The exquisite excitement is in the air
Feathers to and fro flailing everywhere
The triplets hover lovers without a care
Little paddles Svelte feathers show a tare
Slowly draft drifted Earth bound
A shaky *** slump, defeated down

Mrs. Fittle, and Mr. Faddle right behind
Little paddle’s battle to stay in the air
Incidence grew in intensity with Care

The truth his feathers were just not ready
Sadly madly he wanted to soar not steady
His wings too small it was not his time
The hardest lesson is being left behind

Little paddle’s glorious day will come
He will gleefully glide, in the big blue sky
With Mrs. fiddle and Mr. Faddle closely by

BLT Webster’s Word of the Day
Svelte 6-1-24
described slender and a tractive, graceful way something sleek, such as an article of clothing
Incidence 6-2-24
To grow in intensity

Olivia Kent Apr 2020

Living Lockdown

All afternoon, sat in my vitually empty room.
My love mutt curled up beside me like a snorting fire free dragon.
Every so often, she will spring into early summer action, telling the garden birds to *******.
After her crazy mouthy attack, she curls up and goes back into a deep sleep.
I peep at her chest, it's rising comfortably now

Most, of the moments I spend with her are just mellow,chilled.

Watching the garden birds flitting freely.
Those birds, ignorant in their sundance.
No rhyme, no reason.
A brief divebomb of sorts, snicking at birdseed in a metal tub.

Mrs Mutt,
She toodles out for a twinkle.
No birds about now,
I guess they're skipping out.
Unused to the enforced tranquility.

"Praise be."
Dem boids be free.

Our time it shall come again.
For now, indoors we must be.
Must stay.
Creativity and passion,
Without exit, so it must be.
LIVVI X

Eindeinne Moon May 10

deck of cards

My personality is like a deck of cards—each one revealing a different facet of who I am.
The good cards are my victories in life, the ones that draw people to me despite my innocence and naivety.
They are the moments that allow me to forge connections, to befriend others, to navigate the world with hope.

But behind those cards lie the bad ones—the losses in the game, yet paradoxically, the wins in life.
They unveil the raw truths of existence, exposing the genuine intentions of the world and the shadows within my own nature. Perhaps many have never truly known me.
People recognize only the parts I choose to reveal, the carefully presented pieces of my story.
Yet they remain unaware of the silent battles, the unseen struggles I have endured.

How can someone claim to truly know me when all they have seen are the reels, the highlights, the fleeting clips of my life—but never the raw, unfiltered behind-the-scenes?

They witness the carefully curated moments, the victories, the laughter, the beautifully framed snapshots that fit within their expectations. But they don’t see the retakes, the silent battles fought off-camera, the exhaustion, the parts of my story too complex or too painful to compress into a mere clip.

To know me is not just to watch the performance, but to understand the struggles that shaped it.
It is to acknowledge the moments I didn't share—the doubts, the resilience, the quiet growth beyond the spotlight.

True understanding lies not in what is shown, but in what is felt beyond the frame.
What you see of me through social media is not real—the curated moments, the framed exposures, the glimpses tailored for the world to perceive.
The truth lies beyond the filters, beyond the carefully composed narrative.
So let me reshuffle my life however I choose.
Stop assuming you know everything about it when you don’t.
Stop implying that things will unfold a certain way, because they won’t—not like that, not how you expect.

My path is mine alone, shaped by choices only I understand.
The future is not predetermined, and what is “supposed to happen” will never be dictated by anyone but me.
So just let me be—let me exist as I am. I don’t need anyone to shape me, to define me, or to tell me how to move through life. I can get by on my own.

I know my path, my resilience, my own way forward. And that’s enough.

Toodles.

— The End —