OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

Dusk.

Shadows awakened.

Under the window of my eye -

Danse macabre

A dreadful serenade;

The smell of moist asphalt.

I am waiting.

The dark spider web of silence

Drags across the walls

Catching the warm sounds

Of your clueless footsteps.

In nothingness

I lie, awake.

A writing crawls

under the scroll of my skin.

I am the Book

of darkness and shades.

Once you come

Burn cardamom and thyme,

Place me into the tefillin

Of your ever-awake soul.

Cry no more tears, dearest.

The dawn is soon to come.

To D. 26.7.2015.

Loneliness

Loneliness is many things

Being without company

Isolation

Simply feeling alone

Worthlessness is many things

Literal

Figurative

A feeling

Unworthiness is a decree

Given to one by another or themselves

It doesnt matter which

I have no confidence

I doubt myself at every turn

I cant talk to new people

I dont want to talk to most of the old people

At times I wish I were a solitary creature

If Im not a part of someone

Or a part of their life

How can I hurt them, how can they hurt me?

I cannot, and they cannot

I cant drag them down

When they are busy rising to their potential

Without those around me I believe I am nothing

I do not always see what I am

I need someone next to me to show me what I am

Who I am

What Im worth

Because I dont always see it

Im smart

I excel in school with almost no effort

But Im dumb outside the books

When the last page is turned I become clueless

No one has ever requited my feelings

I fear because of this no one ever will

I have written for them

Bought them gifts

Done anything and everything for them to know how I felt

No one ever gave it back to me

There is always a thank you

Thats really sweet

There is always a condolence

Youre a really nice guy

But the thank you feels as empty as some promises

As empty and void of emotion as the promises people make

People tell you theyll always be there for you

They say you can count on them

Then when you call them

Reach out in a desperate cry for help

They turn their backs

They dont have time for me

They dont acknowledge me

They make you feel alone

Loneliness is, simply, feeling alone

These people that reject my being (here)

That dont support me

They are the reason I feel lonely

They are the cause of my loneliness

I was smaller than him, yet he hit me He laughed when I cried, and told me to die Did I do something wrong? He touched me, he felt me, there is fear in my eyes But nobody believes me, nobody hears my cries They just tell me I

A red rose and a promise

Fear

fear is a friend

that's misunderstood

hard to believe,

but oh so true

in times of darkness its always stood

and ever changing constant

driving us to be good

and a fear of the past

you may think it holds you back

but really its asking you to ask yourself

what you lack

and when the answer comes back

that you lack nothing at all

the fear slips away

and leaves you standing tall

fear of the future,

that's just the same

when lingering fears of the past remain.

fear is a friend that's misunderstood

after all if you treat it right

it can only do you good.

In a way, people are just like books.

We are loved by some, hated by others.

We have different "genres" and personalities, no book is the same, just like the individuality of people.

We get ignored, just like humankind,

We get damaged, torn, we have our own ripped pages, these are our scars. Not every book is destroyed, so not all books know what it's like. Just like not all people know what the pain of others is like.

We are misunderstood, we are only read on surface, sometimes our true feelings and meaning is hidden, just like people's feelings, and there are only some people who can decipher the meaning. Those are the people we cherish and love compared to humans.

And there are some, that have special favorites and relationship with a book, just like people have their favorite person.

We read each other, understand each other, relate with each other, books can be compared to humans more easily than you think.

Every one of these is a thousand times better than all the English classes I've had ever

MY LOST WING

There was this time she held me close.

Just as warm and soft as a rose.

She made like a monarch feel,

But soon enough she offered a reel.

A wind which was never heard,

Took away my precious bird.

She made some struggle to maybe stay,

But there, on her back she lay.

She made no sound, and couldnt even hear,

But departed away all bright and sheer.

The deeds she performed were evermore pure,

Then why for her there was no cure?

She didnt grumble and not even whine,

But for my future she was the best spine!

Sooner than later, she was gone,

Taking away the sun of my dawn.

And there with Thee, shell now sing,

But I lost my precious wing!

mom, i miss you :(

On barren hills from sordid wastes

A light in far valley I see

A flare of hope and kinder place

Amidst such stormy sea

That flare of hope is you my love

But the barren waste is me

Long have I tried to reach your light

And longer will I still

But I have pushed you far away my love

Far over many hills

And as David called to Absalom

So I will call to thee

But as Absalom did not return

So I expect from thee.

Work Of Art

"
This life of ours is such an illusion
Its every corner full of delusion

when we think happiness is near
What holds us down is fear

Every Step Forward Depends on Speed
Every Person we meet from another creed

Sometimes its easy, Sometimes its Hard
Just like the flip of a random card

Donot let anything hold you back
Always be ready like a travellers pack

My advice to you; Find things that matter
In this blinding world of endless chatter

On Every Moment Give all your Best
To live this life in its finest zest

Live In the moment, not the past
With roaring sails and a high mast

Work Your Best, Leave Nothing to Fate
Dont have any room for envy and hate

Try to be a eagle that flies
Only then you might touch the skies

No Matter How much things get tight
Never go down without putting a fight

Focus on the Journey not the End
Be vary of how your time is spent

From this World when you do depart
Let your story turn to a work of art "