OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

Another poem posted a few days ago by @TaintedHaze in another thread.

Mama Gets High

but I'm the one with the withdrawals.

She touches the sky

while I'm being buried alive.

Out of sight out of mind

was it so easy to

leave me behind?

You feel alive

but the dilation in your eyes

can't mask the tears

behind the lies.

She might just die if she keeps playing

Russian Roulette with these highs.

Fake laughs glass over once

diamond blue eyes.

But I'm the one

who died in your place every night.

I didn't get any kisses from you

But got plenty from a knife.

Should I despise you, knowing you chose

The Monster, The Devil

Over loving your own.

Is it wrong that

I try not to miss you,

because the tears in my eyes

means I'd rather forget you

than watch my own mother

commit suicide.

-Me (A.D.L)

@TaintedHaze, this poem is REALLY GOOD! It's so sad, but terribly real.

Last Friday, @PositiveStateOfMind posted this poem in another thread. I moved it here to join with the other original poems submitted by members and listeners.

He went to get fags

Now he's in the kitchen

Thinking bout the past

I guess it's wishful thinking

The one he can't forget

Heard she's gone awol

Stolen by his brother

Now another in his stable

Haunted & lonely

His heart left for dead

Cold...close to frozen

Without her to warm his bed

​ Panic Attacks

what is love, really

but a machiavellian need rectified?

in the space of a breath,

anxious sobbing mixes in

with soothing whispers

and suddenly

suddenly

there is no difference between fear and love

Angel's song

Somewhere in the distance, I hear soft tunes
a song of hope in this world that is hellbound
Join me on this marvelous musical adventure
travel with me to the inner depths of sound

Sometimes the earth cries for her children
as melancholy spreads its dark wings
Yet this is not like anything I've heard before
this song is one that the angel brings

Somehow we must find the place it's hidden
and we should be careful not to make a wrong
Me and my friends, we leave silently
to find whoever is playing this wonder song

Someone sensed our approach and disappeared
at the same time the music stopped playing
Desperately I look to my friend for answers
'hope is dead' is all I remember him saying

@Cheeney

This is good A story told in the form of poetry..that's not easy to do. I could actually visualise it as I was reading. Great job!

@Esha222 Thank you so much!

Poem I wrote a couple of years ago.

Run away

You were far too perfect for me to believe

that someone so lovely could have been in so much pain

But you curl up inside of your messed up mind

Wishing you could sleep away the days

until the end of time

You've bled out these words

it's a sound that no ones heard

You've screamed out their names

But they're too busy for you pain.

So inside here you lie

and you are too far to hear me sing

but maybe you'll hear these ___ words if

I just stand and scream

Maybe you could vanish now

Become a ghost inside the crowd

No more nightmares that hunt you down

Their screaming silence mutes the sound

Maybe you could scream in fear

Scare away the ones who pretend to care

Maybe we could just rot tonight

Add a numbness to the bite

Maybe you could run away

Is there any other way?

Maybe we could run away

Tell me dear

What do you say?

-A.D.L

(redaction by forum mentor annie)

Today I woke up

And I had almost forgotten you were gone.

I almost sent you a text as if nothing was wrong.

It was so strange how your name came up as if nothing had changed.

Its so weird how it feels, as if everything's the same.

The music still plays.

There is still rainbows after rain.

Even though I lost you that day

the children still play.

You'd think they would have stopped

But to them nothing has changed.

You see the sun stops for no one.

When you're gone don't expect rain.

The world stops for nothing,

It'll spin on just the same.

Although it feels like you left only yesterday

Everything inside me has torn away

But the hundreds who never even knew your name,

To them it's just another day.

-A.D.L

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE

Another Statistic

I'll just be another statistic.

Another lost soul that didn't make it.

An empty cause that could no longer take it.

A hollow heart that was done with faking.

I'm a number that adds up to a whole lot of nothing.

A body full of scars to remind me I'm something.

Screaming in writing as if they'll hear me.

Trying to drain these tears

And find a meaning.

Will you even remember me when my breath ceases to exist?

Or will myself be represented by a number to all of these masses.

I don't really wanna die but this pain still persists.

And all I can help is wonder

Will I be missed?

Or will I just become another number added to the list.

-A.D.L

@TaintedHaze THIS IS SO GOOD IM OBSESSED W IT

@superficialteen

Aw thank you so much~! I wrote this poem years ago. If you're interested in my writing and would like to see more I have a growing collection of my poems on ___ . Totally up to you but it's here if you are interesting~ Thank you so much for the compliment. It feels really nice when people connect with my poetry because in a way they are connecting with me and the feelings I've had.

(edited to remove contact information, by forum mentor annie)

@TaintedHaze

This is legitimately incredible. Major credit for turning so much pain into something so beautiful and expressive.

WORLD WAR III

In World War I, the blacks could not fight in the war
A white kiling a black would be going too far
In World War II, the perfect race was being made
However, the perfect race was never created, nations making the dream fade

In World War III, we faced an eclipse that we barely wished to witness
The colour of our skin determined our richness
Where what the eye sees mattered more than what the heart saw-- feelings resisted
The past is not the only place where racism existed

Look at me and tell me what you see
I am black with a heart of gold... silver, whatever, but tell me
Why does it matter that I am colour?
Racism hasn't erased me, my heart still beats and is filled with valour

Racism is the enemy, Pierre Berton said
It deserves to be met head on and stomped out until it is dead
But how can we stomp it out
When racism is the ghost with a deafening silence and a shieking shout?

Let me fight this war again
Let all my black brothers and sisters walk the streets, these young men
Constantly looking over their shoulder, not ready to be another name
Another Trayvon, another Michael, another Eric Garner playing an unfair death game

Us blacks are treated as problems rather than people
A disgusting sickness in which others find lethal
They bleach the parts of me that make them uncomfortable
Disinfecting parts of me that become undiscoverable

There is a war in our hearts
Our weapons are not guns, tanks, and metal parts
But they are love, compassion, empathy, hope, cooperation
Until someday we will move forward, all in liberation

Let me and every black man and woman out there be free
Be able to say "Last night, I safely walked the street
Without being drowned in discrimination, where morals lack"
Let us be able to say without fear: "I AM PROUD TO BE BLACK!"

Don't write her a poem that shall rhyme,

free yourself from that suffocating paradigm,

let the words trip over each other,

stumble, tumble and grumble,

as you fumble to find the right words,

words to describe a person that's constantly on the run,

trying to evade misunderstandings and misrepresentations,

boxes and cages of other's perceptions,

in the end falling prey,

to the voices in her own head,

the very thoughts that refused to surrender,

to admit defeat,

that protested against everything and refused to be silenced,

yet there it was- ,

defeat,

anything BUT discreet,

announcing it's presence not with a sigh,

but rather a cry that ripped the silence,

punctuated it all,

the pain, the agony, the misery,

there was no more escaping it,

denying it,

eluding it,

and as it shattered every illusion that still existed,

it broke her down,

almost like a fraction merely in need of simplification,

oh but boy,

it was so much more…

it was the release and emergence of a butterfly,

it had shaped her, defined her,

all that time,

spent crumbling and evolving,

wrapped in the comforts of the chrysalis,

she was finally free,

the first fracture had been the beginning after all,

but not of a downfall,

rather the beginning of the beginning of it all,

whatever "all" entailed,

was yet to be uncovered though...

~ Sky

@skyisblue awesome!

@heartfulMusic18 thanks for reading :) I really appreciate it :)

@skyisblue, this poem is really good! It tells an important story--I can relate. I like how the person grows out of the cocoon.

@BraveSpirit Thank you so much for taking the time to read it :) I'm glad its meaning resonated with you :)

@skyisblue

do you want to discuss this poem in the poetry writing group?

Tranquil peace

At the end of the world I stand
I remain one of the surviving few
With this bloody map still in my hand
from here I have an eagle's view

Supposedly, this should be the place
where my loved ones found shelter
I realise, there is absolutely no trace
if she had been here, I'd have felt her

Despair surrounds my very being
desperate cries reach my hurting ears
Yet death is all that I'm seeing
stop I say, no time for useless fears

My bones are tired from this journey
to find the ones I care for, I resisted
The urge to give up and beg for mercy
to a god that is inexplicably twisted

The so called 'point of no return'
sounds so awfully final, like a surrender
But I must admit, for the end I yearn
a tranquil peace, so beautifully tender

@Cheeney Once again I am amazed :D

I can't even explain why but I adore these types of peoms from you.

Thank you for these awesome adventurous peoms ^^

@FaithForTheWin I'm glad you like them

Thank you so much!

You're the type of girl they write love songs about.

The type with a pretty face and a soft voice that make people weak at their knees

The most beautiful girl

You could rule the world with a smile.

You're the type of girl they write breakup songs about

The type to make someone's blood run cold

Their bottom lips tremble as they can only

whisper 'why?' to you as you leave them with no remorse

You're that type of girl.

@May0204, this poem is wonderful. I love the language and rhythm, which create an interesting tone. And the reference about love songs followed by breaking-up songs has an impact. And the phrase "whisper Why to you" sounds lovely but is chilling. The whole thing is marvelous. And most of us have known "that type of girl."

@May0204

do you want to discuss this poem in the poetry writing group?

I'm tired of pretending

I'm tired of saying

I'm tired of acting

that I'm okay.

I'm tired of living

I'm tired of seeing

I'm tired of telling

the same old lie.

When will someone

save me?

@TheLypophreniaOfAPlantBlogger, the rhythm patterns is so cool. The repetition of the "I" statements followed by the abrupt switch. And then the pattern repeats. And the content -- it's heart-wrenching. Haven't we all at some point wanted for someone to save us?

When I look back, I fault the old fairy tales. A charming prince or a kind fairy always saved the nice, virtuous girl! Now I know that I am the one who must have strength and create my own magic. Nonetheless, your poem still touched a deep chord.

In springtime, when the flowers bloom,

In summer, with its joy and cheer,

In autumn, ‘neath the harvest moon,

Remember me, my dear.

In springtime, trees stand grand and tall.

In summer, bluebirds sing.

In autumn, leaves begin to fall.

Remember me, darling.

And one day, I shall reminisce,

When the leaves are young and new,

Ill think of you, and I shall wish

That I were beside you.

-Lucas D.

@ParanoidPoet Nice love poem. I really like how you included the seasons.

@FaithForTheWin Thanks. I really appreciate it.

@ParanoidPoet, this is really good -- I especially love the final stanza. The young, new leaves -- in contrast to the old love ... beautiful.

Your poem reminded me of a poem I wrote years ago in a poetry class--it took me a while to dig it out. As I recall, the challenge was to focus on the seasons. This was my effort:

Summer Idyll

When yellow leaves drift

Across slanting light

And songbirds flee

To the warm south,

I'll remember.

And on wintry nights

When crystal snows

Glisten across moonlight

And frozen branches

Whisper in the wind,

I'll remember.

But when warm earth

Welcomes violets and

Green buds swell

To scarlet,

I shall forget.

Ill forget the golden days

When we picked blueberries

And spoke of love

Under an August moon.

As you can see, I tried to exceed the assignment by including all the colors of the rainbow.

@Annie Nice poem! And thank you for your kind words.

@ParanoidPoet This send chills down my spine. It's so beautiful and light, yet has a touch of sadness. I love this.

@Andyken Thank you.

I've Forgotten Me

Why do I feel
that the darkness is constantly closing in?
Whispering to me,
That I'm nothing
and that
my dreams are stupid.

That fire in your eyes
Once matched the burning in my soul
But that was so long ago.

Back when I still trusted,
back before my wings were broken
I could let a voice in.

are you never happy
you asked.

sometimes I can still see Light
I said

But those times are few are far between.
Broken to myself it seems.
Truly alive in this world,
only in my dreams.

I turned to books and learning to fill my hearts void.
An educated depressive
who dark moods are excessive.
The burden you placed on my heart,
and now I feel I'm never fully rested.

I have so much rage
I have so much anger
I have so much fear

I tried to look inward
But only found despair.
I still reach for that fleeting hope,
that fleeting light.

It's barely enough to sustain me
This darkness feels like it envelops me
constantly.

Still I go on,
Smiling.
Usually acting,
like nothing wrong.
I remember when you used to hold me.
I want nothing more than to want to hold you again,
but with this constant darkness closing in,
all I want is to push you away,
And no, no I can't come over
And no you can't stay.

You don't understand most days I can't get out of bed,
Yes it's to that point,
again.
And I don't need anyone pointing out my flaws,
again.

Call it self pity if you must.
You're probably right,
I'm still not going out tonight.
This fake smile again
this fake personality.
Fake it till you make it
now my lifes a sham,
Never sure of who I truly am.
Going down this road again.

It seems depression and darkness have become my only friends I can truly trust in.

@batman4485

Rage, anger, fear, despair -- that is a potent combination. The poem throbs with that energy, woo!

Part of me

It doesn't matter when or when

There's a part of me that's almost dead.

And there's no trust inside that I could even confide.

There's nothing inside so why even try?

There's a part of me that screams for death.

So many times it's needs were almost met.

But I fight and fight

and somehow I survived.

I fight and fight

Even though a part of me has died.

-A.D.L

@TaintedHaze, another one that gets me in the guts. That fight to survive, I've been there.

THE FUN PART !

The past of sadness,
The fuel of goodness;
Not to be told,
To be remembered.
Has to be told,
To be forgotten.

Rhythm sings alone,
Music dances along.
Smile embraces the lips,
Finger clinching the hips.
Holding you I remember,
Sliding away forever.

Pain above hill,
Likes to reveal,
But it stops,
To feed in drops.