Hello Poetry
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"unliked" poems
I try to like maths Maths unliked me I try to befriend maths Maths unfriend me Maths create an invisible problem And expect you to find a solution I wonder why humans create a problem and look for a solution In time maths came in to show problems are part of life This is something I learned from mathematics There is always something to learn
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Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 10:04 AM UTC
My relationship with maths
through the eyes of a child, everthing is lovely the neighbor is kind, it rains fruit punch and candy is the balanced diet running around all day laughing,playing imagine being a superhero with the mask and a cape the clouds are actually cotton candy and mud-pies are chocolate cakes all animals are nice and noone is unliked so how about  we play around with dolphins and kiss a tiger while stargazing in the eyes of a child, the world seems amazing
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
Eyes of a child
embarrassed uncomfortable solitude withdrawn apart empty secluded excluded reclusive Isolated deserted different strange peculiar unliked alone
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
This is What Lonely Feels Like
Always I unliked the Taste of Coffee. Due to the Bitterness that comes with It Until,I added more Sugar to it,to Override the bitterness, And now it was Sweet Enough for Me. LIfe, Well life is like a Cup of Coffee. With lot of Problems in it, making it bitter So Dont Hate your Life or Lose Hope. Just Add some Sugar in your Life in the form of Love from the people who love you, In the form of those laughs with your friends, In the form of things that make you smile. And no matter What,Always Stay Positive. It won't make the Problems Disappear. But It will definitely give you the Strength To "Walk the extra Mile with a Smile:)"
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
Coffee
What should a poem be? Should it be about love? Should it be about hate? Should it be about how your love found a lover and you learned to hate him or her? Should it be a story based on facts? Should it be fictional all made up? Read a poem today bout the unheard offs. Those that are unliked as a three leaf clover. The ones with no luck trapped in the web of hello poetry Were they get no love, no likes, no repost... Is alright. That's me, a noble man a no..body. And I thank you But never again right for me I say it out of love not hate... Truly Your words hit big like the empire state but, What should a poem be? Love, hate, Factual, fictional, Etc, etc, All the above Though it should never be about fame, or will I trend today. Is how you you control your emotions Whether you put yourself down Or you gloat This is spoken words Best heard acapella I use to wear a sky mask And dark shades My stage name anonymous Till my first love kissed me for the first time one night like Jane did to spider man
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
What should a poem be?
The slow stream meanders through the densest undergrowth finding its way through folly and brush and barriers until at last it reaches a sea of understanding where the waves crash and burn tumble and roll in ecstatic freedom. So do our lives, liberated from tense ******* of social chains placed upon us by tradition. We were born free others wanted us locked in rituals and rants prescribed that satisfied their swollen egos and their own insecurities in the chain of progress. Breaking out is not easy but one must bulldoze through the miasma to reach the thin light beckoning you to leave your baggage behind on an overcrowded platform where the trains have just whistled past. A long time ago, my mind was ablaze in the jungle of dissent and I roamed the world seeking the liked and unliked ideologies to a better way to leave a mark of this fabric of patterned prose and poetry. Am I yet free? I don't know. Tempt me with the taste of freedom. Author Notes Freedom has many shades. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
walking free in chains....
Funny but not in a polite way Witty Daring Razor-sharp Basking in a round of warm-beer-belly laughs Pillow soft No-man's land Lay down your weapons on my shoulder. Confident Never bossy. An everyday diplomat navigating courtesies A heard point. Attractive ****** On    my      own        terms. By    my      own          rules. Liked or unliked The choice is theirs I have little time for it. To be all this at once or not at all on my count Take aim
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:51 PM UTC
Target practice
Your griefs Concerns List of parts unliked And states abhorred All conditions And I have chosen To love you unconditionally
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
parts
oh i wonder, will you be still here, after i'm gone? oh i wonder, might someone else hear the melody the way i did? reminiscing all the beautiful lines, the lines that rooted deep inside me; the love i felt listening to you oh i wonder, will someone ever feel the same? life recommended you too late to save, yet you remain, the song i never unliked oh i wonder, could any new song ever take your place, or am i just playing you on loop? forever a song i keep in silence, my sesame syrup 10/09/2025
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 5:50 PM UTC
Burning Chair
a lovely a song deserved the heart but then i lost my rest then i had put my guard cuz it sounds like my past so i clicked unlike .
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
unliked song
you pour your soul into a bottle, siphon away your last redeeming qualities and think, perhaps if i write a poem, i can save myself perhaps if you wrote a poem, you would condemn somebody else. you squint into the vial, notice the curlicues of ash and that's weird, because you haven't burned anything recently nothing except yourself i thought about donning that visage, of veiling myself in black i thought about a lot of things of bruises on perfectly smooth arms of the silver sheen of a sharp edge of trying out ceramics and seeing if they're all that great i remembered what you're supposed to do or what everyone says you're supposed to do. lay out your belongings in an orderly fashion leave a note what would i say? no one would take the time to read it no one ever has maybe this is the note the note they'll never find the note even i don't understand all i wanted to do was talk to you just talk just to hear your voice, just to exchange a few words and i don't know how this happened i'm lost and they ******* **** at making maps and i am jimmi simpson all over again, dying not one not two not even three times the younger generation of being possessed, of putting your points in unexpected places of being utterly unliked and useless what's wrong with me? things i don't even feel but i always lead it the same way i always **** it up i always do, every time, without fail i'm no good to anybody, and least of all myself and the only reason i'm still alive is because i keep thinking that maybe just ******* maybe someone cares because i keep thinking but what if well **** the what ifs no, the only ******* reason i'm still here is because i'm too much of a god **** coward to **** myself.
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
no, the only reason is that i'm selfish.
you pour your soul into a bottle, siphon away your last redeeming qualities and think, perhaps if i write a poem, i can save myself perhaps if you wrote a poem, you would condemn somebody else. you squint into the vial, notice the curlicues of ash and that's weird, because you haven't burned anything recently nothing except yourself i thought about donning that visage, of veiling myself in black i thought about a lot of things of bruises on perfectly smooth arms of the silver sheen of a sharp edge of trying out ceramics and seeing if they're all that great i remembered what you're supposed to do or what everyone says you're supposed to do. lay out your belongings in an orderly fashion leave a note what would i say? no one would take the time to read it no one ever has maybe this is the note the note they'll never find the note even i don't understand all i wanted to do was talk to you just talk just to hear your voice, just to exchange a few words and i don't know how this happened i'm lost and they ******* **** at making maps and i am jimmi simpson all over again, dying not one not two not even three times the younger generation of being possessed, of putting your points in unexpected places of being utterly unliked and useless what's wrong with me? things i don't even feel but i always lead it the same way i always **** it up i always do, every time, without fail i'm no good to anybody, and least of all myself and the only reason i'm still alive is because i keep thinking that maybe just ******* maybe someone cares because i keep thinking but what if well **** the what ifs no, the only ******* reason i'm still here is because i'm too much of a god **** coward to **** myself.
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I dont know why I try so hard For someone who wont even look my way. I even think a hundred times For perfect words I try to say I tried once more without a doubt, With all the courage I gathered inside, Guess my efforts are wasted, For I don't even cross your mind. Today I choose to be myself, I realised that I don't need you now, To be happy and contented, I know for sure, I'll show me how.
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 10:30 PM UTC
Unliked you
The lies of nature The nature of the beings The unruly flow The flow of the beings The easily given words The words of the beings The meanings behind intentions The intentions of the beings The beings with beings The real value and contradictions The day of realization The realizations of the beings The like and unliked fits The fittings of the beings The only important of all The trust of beings The only trust that ever needed The beings’ own trust in his being
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Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 4:26 PM UTC
The beings
i woke up beneath the clouds been a long time since i looked at them i observe how they move how each cloud has its unparalleled look how each cloud has its individual history grey and white clouds the white clouds symbolize her presence white clouds are like her; gentle, without any defects she was that kind of story that kind of book in which you would die to be in the grey clouds symbolize my longing grey clouds are like me; tempestuous, abrupt, unliked i was that kind of story that kind of book in which none would be fond of to be in we were in that kind of story that kind of book in which everyone would die to be in i felt love at the first sight the time passed so did clouds the ones i've been looking at i still go back to the times when we were together but i need to stop thinking about it now i'm afraid that our love will get more profound when we are departed that's the hardest part of being alone feeling your ghost in my empty room i glance at the sky once again the clouds i've been observing have gone away from my vision now and she said; "i believe that there is love in holding and in letting go" "and it's time to let go" but i will never stop gazing at the sky
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 3:39 AM UTC
Untitled
if i snuck *** right now i'd likely die i'm on 3 different kinds of medication so i guess i'm sniffing glue to get high like all the teenagers do these days according to the teachers and people in big boy chairs i hate my mother's daily cup of black coffee it reminds me of me unliked by girls my age without whipped cream and the starbucks logo plastered on the cup (you can't get it anywhere else!) my natural state is bitter and dark but i never take the time to pour the cream and sweet into my soul even though i want to so i just sit in the corner and sip the tea, which is never hot anymore
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC
two sugars with a tea
The whispers in the grass were not meant for your ears, they will find another home You're whispers in the dark know me and they call me by name The words woven in the night are worth much Only to those who have heard them before Their ears long for promises that come as dutifully as one calls up a storm Those who are lain in the earth Their bones remember, these charms have clung to their bones They have not died with the clovers in the spring They were meant for yet another season Patience is a flower, and we will see her bloom, learn her petals, love her stem, watch the sun kiss her, the rain bathe her and the wind caress her as gentle as she can Her neighbors know her, for the earth treats all in kind Just as the sun kisses all in turn The sun even knows the snow, while the words they share are short undoubted they are sweet enough to catch a sparkle in her light Unliked the sonnets she sings to the equator Oh the pride she has for these melodies There is no lack of favor for the summer she brings I am not as old as you once found me Not the same as you once new me Close to as foolish as one could believe My moons have practical their dances beyond the rise Their ways are for another nights mysteries
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Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 11:05 PM UTC
Hope for Spring