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Empty houses Open browsers Corral us in A prison of not opening up Convincing ourselves we are free If we choose the prison
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
I thought I was waiting for you But really I was waiting on myself I thought you were the one worth waiting for Worthy of more
From the east he roams Having never found a home of his own Always dragging his stone with him Wherever he goes it goes
Bitter greens Slithering unseen Through my dreams A strenuous subcutaneous existence Complaisance in a crime of the mind
Listening to slow jams in other languages I don’t speak their language But they hear all that languishes in my heart They cut through the pain
The atrocious contradiction of existence How ironically does existence glare at our agony Drawing its muse in the hours of our ecstasy
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
I don’t know what this is about It is the worst poem Without a doubt In my mind To be alone can be sublime But to feel alone
There is a scar on my heart’s ears It’s from all the years of abuse I got used to It makes it hard to hear when someone says
In forests deep where sunlight plays, Nature orchestrates its grand ballet. The rustle of leaves, a gentle sway, A timeless dance, night to day.
By Ashiii2 years ago in Poets
In kitchens, where secrets hide in spices' embrace, Where pots simmer melodies of aromatic grace, There lies the heart of life's vibrant ballet,
I am the first born I’m worn out and scorned out Bearing the weight of all expectations The weight of a family on my shoulders
In the caverns of a shattered heart, Where whispers of love now depart, Echoes of laughter once danced free, Now drowned in tears, a silent plea.
