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Tanay Sengupta Jul 2018
I wish I would have been a nomad,
I would have travelled to the places no one had.
I wish I was a voracious reader,
Books would have helped me to forget her.
If life would not have been such a mystery,
It would have been easy to forget my history.
I wish I was another wanderlust
In a world which seems to forget so fast.
I never wanted to be like me.
I wish I was not me!








Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.
Another simple poem from this small and simple person. I hope you enjoy reading it. Cheers!
neha Nov 2016
The typical 2 a.m. poem is messy
because middle of the night thoughts have no structure

The typical 2 a.m. poem is deep
because darkness is perfect for existentialism

The typical 2 a.m. poem is raw
because it's hard to edit when you're tired

This 2 a.m. poem is just another 2 a.m. poem
desperately trying to be unique
Audrey L Feb 22
so scared to hurt people feelings,
so instead i hurt mine.
Q Jan 2017
Candy-sweet ballads
****** heartache arias
Undying
soulmate
anthems

Everywhere I go
The soundtrack never changes
But no one else
seems
to notice

Red-rose shades of white noise
Heart-shaped confetti stuck in my ears
Jangling
omnipresent
sound waves

The song everyone is singing
Grates against my inner drum
It's not
the kind
I'm looking for
Helia Dec 2018
Head pounding
Like rainclouds
Filled to burst
With dark thoughts

Chest aching
Like her arms
Weeping red
And throbbing

Tears running
Like her dreams
Ever farther
From her grasp

Heart breaking
So much like
The promises
To herself
It rains. It pours.
It breaks. Once more.

January 1, 2018.
Tanay Sengupta Aug 2018
Chirping crickets, unheard whispers and a lonely street light.
For a small town, it is such a typical night.
A sweet aroma blows with the breeze,
Perhaps, coming from one of the flowers or the trees.

Red flares and moonflowers blooming under the moonlight.
Adding more grace to this beautiful night.
Peace and serenity rule in this silence,
There is no noise, there is no violence.

There are just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.
Just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.











Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
This is rather recent, I hope you like it. Happy reading!
Blckstr May 3
Do you still remember
how we stepped into the pages of a book
and lost ourselves
amid the world of romanticized words?
I mean,
do you still remember the time
when we were writing our love story
between the spaces
of unbreakable compound words?

I mean,
do you still remember
the smell of the old books
we used to get addicted to
and how we fondly read them
on our favorite wooden bench
by the rusty, timeworn streetlamp?

I mean,
have you already forgotten
how it felt to turn to the next chapter
of an underrated novel
while our hands were interlocked
with the mysteries of never-ending heartbeats?

I mean,
I still remember
how we embraced the warmth
of "I love you's" and "I miss you's"
and how they slowly turned
into obsolete phrases
swimming away from your tongue.

I mean,
I still remember
the bittersweet aftertaste
of your kisses,
of your tender hugs,
of your love poems,
of our love story
you chose to burn to ash.

Darling, I still want you
to come back for me;
I mean,
I still want to continue
everything we have started –
the bouquet of rose-scented words
and the proses we once had read
and we had written
beneath the starlit ceiling
of ever-burning feelings.

Darling, I'm still terribly in love
with the heartache
I once had felt
while holding your hand;
I mean,
I'm still stuck
inside a love-spangled book
you have ended with tragedy.
I mean,
I should've just refused
to begin our story
when I still had the chance
to create a better one
with someone else –
with someone who's way better than you,
because now,
my heart is already tired enough
to write a new one
that can make me end
my broken love for you.
Eryri Jun 1
The weather was changeable,
A warming sun for the previous hour,
Then, without warning,
The wind rose high,
The roof rose higher:
No use running for cover, I thought,
Since the cover had gone the way of my courage.
You see, I had a role to fulfil
Sure, its fulfillment in sunny spells was a breeze
But in a Force Ten gale?
(Cue howls of laughter)
Progress was at the pace of a snail
And nerves are torn to ribbons
(Much like the poor flags).
Was it life or death?
Well, it depended on how much you didn't wish to die.
Luckily for me, my aim in life is not to witness death
And that is why I pushed on,
And huffed and puffed
Until we got our Lifeboat to the stricken drunken Jetski pilots.
MindlessSelf Jan 24
My dad wasn't like your typical  dad you'd see on television

The one's who always had smiles on their faces  and loved their family

My dad was a man who would come home from work with a beer in his hand

At times maybe more than one depending on how drunk he would  be

  If my dad didn't have a beer he would  go insane  to the point of punching someone in their  face

That's how much he loved drinking beer to the point there was nothing left

Unfortunately he passed out on the ground that night with nothing but a beer in his hand.
Carter Ginter Mar 2013
These past few months,
I haven't been in a good place.
Driving myself mad,
Within my own head.
Isolation,
Aggravation,
Stuck in thoughts of the future,
Or of the past,
Never really living in the present.
I'd sunken into a pit of stress,
Slipping to the bottom,
Submerged,
Until stress was no longer on
a conscious level.

I felt lost.
Alone.
Empty.
Destroyed.
And under no control.
Had gone so far as to diagnose
myself with convinced issues.
When in reality,
I may just be the same,
as
every
other
typical
teenager.

While I still know not what is
wrong,
I will no longer sit back and let
it hold me down.
I'm going to either fight with what
I can
Or continue on smoothly.
No matter the direction,
I will find out eventually,
if I
really
have
just
Lost my mind.
Carter Ginter Sep 2017
I cannot sleep
Or at least I choose not to
Until the sun breaks the horizon
I wake up to a typical ringtone
But sometimes my heart hurts
Like it used to when I smoked
And after 12 hours of rest
I can still barely open my eyes
I cannot convince myself that
There's a real reason to wake up
I am so alone aside from my love
That any social interaction crashes over my body with
guilt and embarrassment that have no purpose
I swallow a few conversations but they hurt
I miss the friends I used to have but I know
We changed so much it could never be the same

And through recent interaction
I realize how much I miss my community
Surrounding myself with those who understand
My fears
My pain
My experiences
Without me having to explain it
Validating my emotions and
Reminding me that I am allowed to feel the way I do
Simply because I do
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