The latest poems on Hello Poetry

ElizaJae 16s

Misery

This life feels like a joke. Misery all around not a smile to be seen. Words that flow from people's lips, rotten fruit. The stench clings to them. Life the gift that keeps on flowing. Why do they live? Each day the same, misery covered with *****. Scarred and broken, embarrassed of themselves. This misery eating them alive. No one cares they say yet all these people stay by their side. Assistance in every way. This life feels like a joke. Misery growing inside. Join me on this ride. Down the path of doom and gloom. Where nothing ever grows. Here take a drink. Come sit next to me. Misery sure loves company.

Satire

#satire

Qualyxian Quest 3m

in my solitude

Poems from my dreams
Just a feeling, impression
Try to find a word
Waking and it goes

I miss my basketball team
My letter was confession
Yes, it's all Absurd
O those Seattle snows!

Solitude

Charlie 8m

guitar

on sunday, i gave away my guitar
and i didn't expect it to be so hard
didn't expect it to crumble my heart
to know i will never feel those strings again
close my eyes and move my hands
never tune the thing until 2 AM
nathan, please take good care of it
because i love that guitar, but i'm scared to admit
scared that you'll ask again why i quit
scared that you won't keep your promise

i've begun the process of giving away my things, and my guitar left an ugly hole in my chest that i'm afraid cannot be filled. i poured my soul into it for two years and now it's gone for good.

#suicide #guitar

Nat Lipstadt 9m

Pithy #8: Appoint~moment

my brain has its own calendar,
alarms, forget~me~nots, nat-urally,
seeds and scraps of half-breed poems,
even its own junk drawer, with extra
keys, pocket tissues, swiss army knives

call 'em appoint-moments,
random and scheduled,
though not always attentive paid

now, I just need to remember to take my brain
with me, which is much harder than you 'think'…

#lipstadt #pithy #8

Thomas P Owens Sr 10m

The Mothman Cometh

the Mothman Cometh in dead of night
who knows his pain
who knows his plight
left unchecked in their faulty haste
born in pools of chemicals and waste
a freak of nature
he roams the skies
with wings of a condor
and red blazing eyes

it is said he had vanished
when the bridge came down
but I believe he remains
at the outskirts of town
I have been to Point Pleasant
and his presence I feel
on the river
on the streets
in the steps of John Keel

Mr E 13m

Scope of Aethisia

Sometimes when driving through towns
Past little homes and apartment complexes
I can't help but to wonder
What unspeakable horrors hide behind
Those walls
That conceal
And muffle

Am I deranged? To imagine such things
To worry about the deeds
That may or may not be happening
In hidden rooms and behind closed doors?
Is it my anxiety? Is it a psychic connection?

And so.
I created my own idea of a perfect world
A system.
Where people are safe, from the horrors of another's sense of justice
Enter Aethisia
A world built entirely by the host.
A world free of others.
And only in his own solitude,
Do I believe man will truly Flourish.