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ListenCan you hear me
Listen to my cries
Feel my pain
See your neglect
Understand what you've put me through
Hear me roar
My anger bouncing off the wall
My sadness ringing in
Your deaf ears
Can't you hear me
Do you just not care
Listen to me
Don't walk away
I'm not finished
If only you'd hear me
If only I could make you see
Why won't you listen
Why don't you care
Do you not see the tears
You're the one that's made to care
It's your job
Why can't you just listen
Maybe you can't hear me
I'm just not loud enough
MuteI rip out my vocal cords
One at a time
With no disregard towards
The blood and gore I'm
Getting on my rotting palms
No one cares anyways
They wouldn't care if I was dropping bombs
They're too wrapped up in their own days
Why make myself mute
Now they can't hear me complain
About my oh so very cute
And insignificant pain
Now they won't need
To suffer anymore
They will be freed
From me, only a constant sore
WordsWords float on a thin line
Some scurry through
My cloudy mind
Never to be caught only
Leaving their essence behind
Give me writings to where
People can sometimes find
What I mean
No matter what I do
I can never seem to convey
The emotion of my poem to
A person despite who they are
I even doubt you
Will get just what I mean
When I finish a poem I rue
Make the stupid poem
My own words
Are twisting and forming
Into a poem I didn't make
Sometimes I feel like crying
The frustration is so great
I keep writing
Otherwise I'll always
Be just scribbling
cR a zYHer outbursts of deafening laughter
Bounced and hurled around
Her 'special' white room
As she rocked back and forth
Hitting the soft pillow like walls
Making the sleeves of her too tight jacket
Move with a similar rhythmic motion
But what stood out the most were her eyes
Even though they sometimes were hidden
By her untamed mass of dirt brown hair
Her bright midnight blue eyes shine brightly
She did not see the white room
Nor did she feel the suffocating pressure of the room
Instead she saw and felt a soft field of green grass
And a little black kitten with amber eyes
That would bat at a delicate butterfly
That carried the starry sky upon its blue wings
She felt the cool spring breeze and gazed
At the quickly fading sunset
That sprouted colors you could never captured
Even she, herself knew that she was crazy
But she no longer cared
She no longer wished to try and grasp
The flimsy string that connected people to reality
And all that came with it
Despite that she was crazy
And no one wo
MessEverywhere I go
Every single place
The troubles seem to grow
Every smiling face
Eventually frowns with woe
Why can't I do
I just screw
Up everything despite
The happiness I try to spew
Is it me
Am I the source of this ache
Does the pain flow free
Is this what I make
Should I go away and hide
Never to see others
Or the outside
But would I stop another's
Pain and be the only one that ever cried
What is a life with no grey
When everyone is sad
I'd give it all away
It wouldn't be that bad
I would finally be able to say
I saved a life
Out in the RainPlease, please brain, let me forget. This desperate plea, was so simple and yet, to me if it was answered, would mean the whole world and over.
With an unheard boom of thunder the dour clouds began to release their tears upon the dry and dirty Earth.
The sound of the downpour drowned out my screams as I bent over, trying to hold the cries in. I clutched the sides of my head, wanting to claw the memory from my mind; if only it was that simple.
"It never happened; it was only a nightmare, only a nightmare. It never happened." I repeated, over and over, hoping if I said it enough I'd truly believe it. However, can the mind really lie to itself?
The rain pounded on my back, but I hardly noticed as my tears mixed in with the bone chilling rain. The sky suddenly lit up with a scar of lighting and then returned to its former darkness.
I threw back my head and let out a wail that seemed to echo through out the country. I weakly wrapped myself in my own arms as I slumped against the steady bric
FriendsFriendship may not last forever
But at least you had it
Friends may hurt you
But who won't
Friends may not always be there
But were you always there
Friends may not like everything you do
But everyone has an opinion
Friends may lie
But you do too
Friends might get mad
But you probably did something bad
Friends are people
Friends are people
That respects you
Friends are people
Friends are people
Who know the real you
The Other Side of the GlassOn the other side I can see,
Happiness is waiting for me
I want it desperately
But everything has a fee
I knock on the glass that separates me
From the joy that I seek
Thinking someone would let me out
But as I continue to knock I begin to doubt
That they'll open the door
But that just makes me want the happiness more
And I bang on the glass till my hands are sore
I now am not miserable or
Happy, I'm lost but I have hope
You would think I'd give in to the darkness
But seeing the happiness
Brings light into the other side of the glass
Mommy MommyMommy mommy
Look at me
See what all I can be
Aren't you wowed
What can I do to make you proud
Please get out of bed
I'm tired mistaking you to be dead
Please don't cry
You and step daddy don't have to say good bye
Did I do good
I did the best that I could
I didn't mean to make you part
And make step daddy break your heart
No need for shame
I will take all the blame
Please don't date
It really is something that I hate
Don't leave me again
Can't you see I'm in so much pain
Please come back
Your heart has turned black
I don't want to watch the young one
Can't the dates be completely over and done
Are you even my mom anymore
Because you just seem like an uncaring whore
I hope you're happy
Because you've lost me
GlassI always laugh when you refer to me as glass.
Not just because of the way you say it,
Or because I know it's a crack at my fragility.
Glass is pure.
I am like granite -
my body nullified from too many clashing traits.
Glass is transparent.
I am like clay -
illegible from all the plastered smiles.
Glass is unyielding.
I am like chalk -
easily broken and scuffed away by meagre things.
Glass is hung up on walls and in great cathedrals,
tinted for enhancement, but only ever painted on by fools.
I am hidden behind keypads and camera lenses,
coated in a thick paste of deceptiveness.
No, my love,
I was never glass. (Despite my fragility)
Call me granite or clay or chalk
and be done with me.
What does exactly life mean?
Let me crawl out of my dark corner and spit out my own definition. Let me shed these words before it becomes illegal. Let me crawl out for a moment; after I finish you can toss me and my ripped soul back in my gap. You can laugh at me and my foolish words. You can spit on my face and step on my heart.
And I know you will.
Life is built of silly, great, sweet, glorious, uplifting, cheerful, colored lies that we are used to call dreams. You can claim that I'm insane but try to analyze your dreams for a moment. Try to grab those sweet words you whisper to yourself every night. You can try but it will never become true, just like your dreams. Sure, five people out of twenty-five will see their dreams turning into reality, but for how long? Seeing your dreams turning into reality involves seeing them shatter down to pieces.
You may say that I'm negativist. You may give me examples of people that built up their dreams and lived happily ever after. You
It Feels Like PainJealousy...
Watch while it destroys me.
As it wraps its hands around my throat,
my eyes are pleading...
So thrilled for you,
you and your happy ending.
Even if it means I lost my company,
and now I'm stuck here alone.
Alone in my misery.
But I wont dwell,
and I like to pretend I'm well.
So I grab my guitar and head to the ocean.
I'll stand in the sand,
and write you a love-song.
I'll sing it loud
as the waves crash over me.
Saltwater disguises the crying.
And I can make you believe,
that I am not heartbroken.
Not that it matters.
in the end it's just pain.
HauntedI hear this haunted voice; it whispers lies
It keeps me up at night; it plays my fears
Allowing no sleep for these tired eyes
Telling me things that I don't want to hear
Am I really heartless or am I numb?
Is this simply darkness of am I blind?
Try to claw my way back into the sun
Leave a bloody trail for others to find
Following the sound of a lonely heart
Brought only false hope that I might be freed
I was led astray in the howling dark
The one way out is through the blood I bleed
I've given up hope of living in peace
I only wish now that my heart would cease
Jesus Christ (Poem)
Yes, there was a man born of flesh
Who overcame the world and all its tests
The only one worthy to be called His holiness
A royal king who spent His days with the poorest sects
The only man on whose flesh maggots cannot feast
Who took our sickness and sin, for love of you and me
Who proclaimed, to be great you must become the least
He is the greatest gift mankind through grace has ever reaped
He spent his days and nights connected to God the Father
Kept it real at all times, like him there is no other
Hated by all whom were corrupted by money and worldly power
Accepted his mission fully knowing, He'd die for unworthy followers
I know we're not worthy to be known as those who follow Christ
But you still wouldn't trade us, even when Satan tried to change your mind
You endured the pain, the ridicule, and humiliation, a costly price
If it were necessary, you'd do it all again to make everything right
My King, Lord, and Savior, Jesus Christ, thank you once again
For taking those who feel so
SlenderBetter keep moving,
Evade his deadly grasp.
His long, tendril arms
Inching ever closer.
Nothing will stop him.
Darkness hides him,
Obscured by the vast
Unknown. But he's always...
PulsateWhat is a heartbeat,
without the heart?
What is a dream,
without the conscience?
What is a word,
without the letters?
What is a hope,
without the faith?
What is a soul,
without the self?
What is a kiss,
without the love?
What am I,
Wonder.Do you fear your own death?
Is it hard to conceive?
Draw in your last breath, then-
Your last breath will leave.
Isn't it strange to think,
That there's a timer above your head?
A countdown you can't see,
That finishes when you're dead.
Don't you ever wonder,
What it'll be like when you're gone?
I bet the world will keep on spinning.
There will be another dawn.
But the harsh reality behind it-
We're all going to die.
There's no reason to try to fight it
Not even to question why.
It makes me wish that I could have a little more to give,
Because I'm not afraid of how I'll die...
I'm afraid of how I'll
What's Left UnsaidThere was that moment.
The awkward pause
where your heart drops
and you hope,
that they believe your smile.
"Oh, that's good."
My heartbeat slows down.
"For a moment..."
My stomach lurches...
you were going emo."
...and my heart falls through the floor.
and I laugh along.
I'm laughing along
just like everyone else.
Laughing so hard,
I might even cry.
They weren't supposed to know,
but they weren't supposed to laugh.
This is it.
I'm leaving the state.
And this is how I remember
our very last moments together:
Laughing at my accidental cuts
and how I'm not a cutter.
There's just one problem
with our last goodbye:
The cuts weren't,
and I was.
HopeHope is just the lies
I tell myself
Hope tells me tomorrow
Will be better then today
So I don't cry myself to sleep
Hope whispers that next time
I'll do things right
When I only make it worse
Hope says that everything will be alright
When I know it won't be
Hope promises that there is a perfect
Person for me and that one day
I'll find that person
Hope shouts that one day
I'll do great things
And will always be rememebered
So that I'll never truely die
Hope sings of a better place
When there isn't one
Hope mocks that it could be worse
But most of the time
I'd do anything to not be me
Hope is merely a lie
But that's okay
Because a lot of things are lies
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More