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Honey 17h
Without exception to every situation they call love,
I wish things were different.
If only I were more, or less, or simply enough
what could’ve been?

Maybe no hearts would ache, no eyes would weep.
If fate weren't so unkind, there wouldn’t be words written right now.
What joys, what torments, what treasures
does this new day bring?

I have left sleep behind,
fitful and unsettled as always,
with its strange images
and surreal conversations with the long dead,
conversations that make no sense.

As consciousness comes back to me,
I hear a tolling bell
calling the faithful to prayer
but I pay no heed
because I know my prayers,
if I had any,
would go unanswered.

Instead, what prayers I may have had
are given to the coffee cup
as I drain yet another
and swallow its bitter grounds
and draw on another cigarette,
taking its harsh smoke
deep into my lungs.

And even though it’s Spring
with the burgeoning of new life,
it is cool and a wind stirs the newborn leaves
and the sky remains dull and grey.

Fully awake now,
the familiar pains return.
Not just the physical
but also the ones in my mind
as I contemplate another day ahead,
mundane and alone.

But, if I were honest with myself,
the mundane satisfies me
and I relish being alone.

I put on some melancholy music
and lets its sad sentiment
flow over me, gentle, welcoming,
to keep my sombre mood
from falling too far into despair.

This state of mind
is all too familiar now
and I no longer try to push it away.

And every day I make a cursory effort
to stop myself from contemplating my remaining years
but acknowledging that all too few lie ahead.

Looking back,
I can recall from over those many years, many decades past now,
the memories I have
as a child,
as a youth,
as a man,
as a father.

I remember those memories fondly:
of people, too many now the ghosts I speak with in my dreams,
and of times when the future was so far beyond the distant horizon
that I didn’t give it a moment’s thought.

But now that once far-flung horizon looms ever closer
and where before I could contemplate
ten, twenty, fifty years hence,
now even a mere ten, twenty years from now
is uncertain and shrouded in a fog of unknowing.

It is with this mindset I face each day
and this new day is no different from yesterday’s
and will be again tomorrow,
and the next day,
and the days beyond that
until I reach that horizon.

And I dare not contemplate what lies beyond.


© 2025
A bit sombre but a reflection of how I often feel as my twilight years approach.
Iha 3d
Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To long for something knowing you'll never have it the way you want?
(Because you did have it didn't you?)
Never enough to overcome the tremors of fright
Never enough to be Cinderella for more than a night
And is it so bad that it'll never be the way you want it to be
Is it so bad that the cause of all my ruin is me?

Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To long for that feeling of being longed for?
Knowing that the thought of it is terrifying
Knowing it'll always leave you crying
And is it so bad that despite the fears i'll get drawn to it
Is it so bad that i'll hang like the pendelum but never quit?

Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To be considered "it" for just a guy?
When you're supposed to be "chill"
When you don't "fw labels" you tell him
And is it so bad that he'll still ignite a raging fire within
Is it so bad that drowning in ***** is what keeps it burning?

Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To experience the unrequited love they write about?
Smiling under the sun in beach's paradise
Smiling into his sheets when he makes that sound i like
And is it so bad that i'll cry when he gets down on one knee
Is it so bad that i'll still say no when he proposes to me?

Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To get teased by my friends for having a boyfriend?
Going to his games and cheering him on
Going to his place when the day felt off
And is it so bad that i'll leave him stranded in the storm
Is it so bad that there will be a blank box on my baby's birth form?

Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To have someone to watch TV with candles around?
Giving him an attitude when he gets me fancy **** he knows i despise
Giving him my favorite look when he takes a portion of my fries
And is it so bad that our story will never be a rom-com
Is it so bad that i won't choose him when he asks me to prom?

Is it so bad to want what everyone wants?
To have his haven become my heaven?
Have all the late night conversations and cuddles
Have all the intricate moments and snuggles
And is it so bad that after the *** i'll return to my bed
Is it so bad that i'll write a poem yet still call him a good friend?
Cheers to the one which got me into this site :)
The autumn rain is falling
    Like teardrops from mine eyes;
I cannot help recalling
    With sobs and lingering sighs
               My Fugliana.

The days returning never,
    The golden days of yore,
I thought would live forever,
    Yet gone fornevermore
               Is Fugliana.

With rue my heart is laden;
    L'amour peut être amer.
Nor any rose-lipt maiden
    Was e'er so fair as fair
               Fair Fugliana.
Ah, Fugliana!  La beauté est une
bénédiction et une malédiction!
1DNA 4d
Right from the start, I messed up bad.
"Please be happy, don't be sad".
What pathetic words from me,
as I watched you drown in sea.

Didn't pull you out, didn't lend a hand,
But stood tall and high in the land.
Didn't bat an eye, as I watched you cry
I turned away and let time fly.

Soon after, I was back again
To find lost joy I might've lost there then
I came closer, thinking it would be found
I would be safe, as I'm on the ground.

But then, the waves grew loud and big,
as I stood off-guard like a fragile twig.
I couldn't escape; I couldn't flee.
You became one with sea.
Hey! This poem has a lotta different meanings based on how you interpret it, Hope you guys like it!
I would rly appreciate it if u guys leave a comment and any tips so tat i can improve even more!
Dylan A 4d
You look better when I close my eyes.
Because I’m a horrible person
a horrible person who still thinks of her when I’m with you.
Yet again, when I’m with her, who I was gets lost.
because honestly, I was broken
—She broke me—
I am broken, but you’ve seen me as whole.
Breann 5d
My hair was always dark—
A quiet oath to who I’d been.
It clung to me like truth,
Framing features I had learned to love.
Even as a girl, I wandered shades—
But the dark always called me home.
Strangers knew me by its wave,
Its certainty, its ease.
It was mine.
And it was enough.
Until you.

You liked bright.
You liked wild.
You liked her—
The red that lit your eyes.
So I told myself,
Maybe if I bled the dark away,
You’d see me with that same fire.

So I sat beneath the light and bowl,
Watched bleach strip years from my strands,
Watched red bleed into who I was,
Not because I loved it,
But because you might love me.

You said you liked it.
So I added more.
Layered hope on top of damage,
Waiting for your heart to catch.

And it did.
You liked me—or at least the version
I burned myself to become.
But now, in the quiet of my mirror,
I meet a stranger with copper strands,
Not the girl who knew her worth,
But one who traded it away
For something small
And fleeting.

I miss the girl who never asked
If she was enough.
I miss the dark.
I miss the strength.
I miss the truth
That once lived in my reflection.

And now I know—
Love that demands you change
Will never hold the parts
You buried to be chosen.

I should’ve never gone red.
Not for you.
Not for anyone.
Not at the cost of me.
There’s always one
unfinished sentence
in every goodbye.

A truth that catches
in the back of the throat
and never makes it out alive.

You smiled.
You nodded.
You let the moment pass.

But something in your eyes
lingered
like a name you meant to say
but swallowed.

And I’ve been wondering since:
Was it fear
that kept you quiet
or was I never meant
to know?

What is the thing you almost said, but never could?
We all have that one moment we replay, the words we didn’t say. This poem asks you to revisit yours... not for regret, but for release.
Rain Apr 30
It’s not my fault
Is what I’m trying really hard to believe.
But you are the sweetest
So how can someone like you do this to me.o

It’s not my fault,
I keep telling myself.
I was ******* drunk,
You shouldn’t have take my yes legitimate.

It’s not my fault,
It’s hard to believe you would take advantage like that.
I’m usually the problem .
But it wasn’t mine this once.

It’s not my fault,
You should have know better,
I think you did.
You just knew I would never allow this sober.

It’s not my fault
you jumped at my “yes”
Then had the nerve to say the next day
I would never without consent.

I’m trying so hard to quiet that voice,
Keep repeating to myself,
It’s not my fault,
But I think it’s my fault.
Mark Penfold Apr 30
Time appeals to those who wait,
A calendar without a date.
No point of interest here or there,
A nomad life without a care.

Until one day a lone chance fleeting,
Made in haste upon a lazy greeting.
Will you dip your toe within those rivers,
Of contraband? and selfless givers.

Upon the rostrum bear your soul,
As naked as a childs doll.
While new sensations spark the senses,
you seize your mind but body tenses.

So onward! now from past decay,
Yes! homeward bound youll start today.
To feed the mind instead of silence,
You now see beauty in the violence.

Such wild distemper of a troubled mind,
Seek recompense in all you find.
For time is always on the side,
Of new Spring flotsam on the tide.

So grasp that oar with all your might,
Muster all your nerves to fight.
Lifes breaking waves and vicious tide,
For time is always on your side.
hope you like it, think its about someone so hurt they closed them selves off from life until it became so long ago as if a dream until the moment chance offers them a hand to pull them back onto the merry go round of life again.
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