OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here
Hello there everyone!
If you're reading this it means that you probably are quite fond of poetry and writing it to. This is a thread to post all and any poetry that you may have, be it happy, sad, angry or just silly. All styles are welcome (free verse, couplets, slam) and it would be great to have at least one poem up a day for all of us to enjoy together!!
Poetry Writing and Anxiety
I know what to write because there is so many thoughts running in my mind!
Should I write something inspirational?
Or maybe I can make up something that's loving and kind?...
But I don't feel happy all the time...
Should I write a poem about how I'm really feeling inside?
Or should I go with the positive side of myself and push my other feelings aside?
What type of person do you want others to view you as?
Here is your chance to show them what you are made of...Don't fu*k it up!
You don't want to be that girl you was growing up...
After school feeling empty and lonely in her room feeling stuck.
What the heck?! I'm actually going into my past just because I'm trying to make up a poem from my brain...
But scared people might view it like "What the fu*k was she thinking? This sh*t is lame!"
Why am I putting so much thinking into this? It's just a poem your making up for fun.
Who cares what people think I ask myself now...
I care, because I don't want to hide myself anymore...
but I want to write something that people read and say "Wow!"
More like, Wow! Here I am taking this poetry writing too serious.
Now I'm questioning my sanity. Am I delirious???
This is taking longer than I expected just to make up a freaking simple poem of my own.
You know what? Forget this I am exhausted from my thoughts again im not surprised.
I'll just label this poem Anxiety so it will be known.
I know other people understands me and I'm not alone...
Dear @MzLexusLove, You're definitely not alone . . . Your poem will resonate with many, many people at 7 Cups. Thank you for sharing your poem! 
Thank you sweetheart. @Annie
Hi,
I often feel a paradox of emotions and wrote this at a seemingly confused and restless time in my life.
Paradoxical
Sometimes,
Soaring above great horizons
And then sinking into hollows of depression
Often blazing through a myriad of emotions
Then gently drifting into dead numbness
All too full
And suddenly empty
Not contained inside
Or alive outside
I'm here because I have to
Drawn elsewhere, maybe I want to?
I don't know where I ought to be
Just a lost fish in the sea...
Is it You doing this to me?
[Trigger warning - incest/rape]
A "Father's" Love
So small and innocent
Quite fragile, not grown.
Pitch black, so frightened.
No friends... All alone...
Knowing the danger,
Tough touch of a hand.
The "love" of a father?
Too much to stand.
"Stay there!"
"Be quiet!"
... "I love you,"
"Don't tell."
But daddy, it hurts!
"Please baby, don't yell."
I'm young and unwise...
So shocked- he lies?!
He left her there,
In sharp, harsh tone.
Broken and shattered,
Afraid of her home.
I'm right, it's wrong!
So go! ... So long...
Dear @HugLover22, I can only imagine what it took to write this poem. It is very strong, and terribly haunting. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Painfully, my eyes glare into nothing...
The endless darkness seems so vast.
Pitch black shadows, distantly casting glimpses of forms and shapes.
Sleep evades me. It taunts my every resting desire.
My mind then wanders... Naive and innocently, it stumbles upon the chained, forbidden, unknown.
Every memory exposed-
Every thought vulnerable.
Every "what if?" transformed into an illusion of reality...
The memories were purposefully forgotten--intentionally buried deep into the unaware subconscious.
It is only now, in the absence of sleep, when these memories begin to surface.
Quickly, they accumulate and merge into dangerous haunting realities.
These memories haunt every thought in my mind.
I'm burdened by my own suppression.
Logic surrenders.
Eluding my ability to differentiate between a tampered imaginations' delusions and a sensae and obvious explanation...
Silhouettes revealing overcasts of pitch black darkness, become warped in the dead of night.
Now, the mere thought of dozing off is an utmost concern!
To get a wink of shut eye would only be an invitation to manipulate a sleep deprived brain.
Imposition of these memories is my greatest fear.
@HugLover22, You've truly captured the swirling thoughts that can plague us when sleep eludes us -- wow.
@HugLover22 this is mad i love it ?? theres so much meaning behind every line like hnnnng and there are so many different ways to interpret it and it feels so?? like relateable like i can see myself in this
TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM
We all cry tears
and cut our pain.
The blood drips fast,
the scars remain...
We see a knife
and cut away.
The hope is here,
we love the pain.
Hold back the tears,
reject the pain.
Take ease in knowing,
you've pierced a vein.
Slam the door,
punch the ground.
They can't hear
when there's no sound.
Your fingers tremble
with glass in hand.
It cuts through skin,
like colored sand.
You watch your blood
run away
down your arm
just to say...
I'll stop one day,
it won't be hard.
Itnore the hurt,
they're only scars...
@HugLover22, This was difficult to read. I can imagine that it was difficult to write. (I find myself wondering whether the comments about it being easy to quit was meant ironically, that the narrator says it, but the reader knows it can be very hard to stop.)
I've been writing this poem for several days now and after numerous hours of brainstorming and polishing I'm finally happy about how it turned out ツ
Feel free to comment as I really want to receive feedback, especially critical one in order to develop.
Anxious
It's like a stranger broke into my mind
moving all my thoughts around
He doesn't care how I feel
How I kneel when he breaks me down
When he breaks me down
It's like the stranger broke into my pride
getting rid of my self-esteem
He doesn't care how I fret
How I sweat when he breaks me down
When he breaks me down
It's like a stranger broke into my sight
removing all my hope
He doesn't care how I cry
How I try when he breaks me down
When he breaks me down
This stranger's in my head
with a combat lead
How can I break him down?
How can I break him down?
@FaithForTheWin I love this. I imagine it would work well in a song too, your poem has great rhythm and a musical sound. You tell a great deal of emotion with your poem. You asked for critical feedback to improve, so here are some notes/tips. (I am in no way an expert, these are just some thoughts of mine. The beauty of poetry lies in its originality and imperfections, and you should always do what feels right to you. Everyone has different opinions about how to write poetry, there's no right or wrong way.)
The most common tip: show, don't tell. Meaning: don't say 'I saw a pretty flower' but instead say 'the flower radiated brighter than the sun as I glanced upon its lively petals'. Something like that creates an image in the reader's mind, which is crucial in any type of story telling. Descriptive language helps bring more detail to that image and fill in the blanks.
One thing I sometimes do is google synonyms for certain words. I'm not a native speaker and even if I were I probably wouldn't know/remember the exact word I'd be looking for, so google is a nice resource to help. For example, a synonym for ''getting rid of'' is to dispose of, or cast aside. It would fit well in your poem. That said, I appreciate simple language in poetry too, it makes it easy to read. And it's more about the message you portray through your poetry than the amount of fancy words you use. Whatever words you choose, either work well, as long as you use them consistently.
That's how I usually write, and it's neither the right nor the wrong way. The best thing you can do is just to mess around a bit, try different styles and different subjects to write about, eventually you'll find something that works for you and you're comfortable with.
@Cheeney Thank you very much for your detailed reply ^^
I really appreciate it!
Descriptive language that creates an image in the reader's mind is really important yet extremely difficutl in my opinio. I somehow still struggle to describe things instead of just saying 'I saw a pretty flower'. But I'll work on it.
Googling synonyms is interesting. I guess that will help a lot in future, thank you :)
As I am not a native speaker either I used to search for words that truly expressed what I want to say in German and then translated them into English, sometimes with the help of a dictionnary. But googlins synonyms seems to make a lot more sense as I can't 'get lost in translation' by accident.
Really thank you a lot for commenting!
@FaithForTheWin I'm glad I was able to help. What helps me is first creating the image in my own head. When I want to write about a flower, I imagine myself walking across a field and suddenly seeing a flower from the corner of my eye. Think about what immediately catches your eye when you first look at it, then imagine the little details you notice when you come closer. Ask yourself, what makes this flower more beautiful than any other flower. It could be the location, the colors or the smell. Or maybe it reminds you of something, a memory of a time where you were younger and more innocent, just like that flower.
I read an article once that was titled ''the rules of poetry''. It really wasn't anything special, just some tips that are easily forgotten, but the last line of the article still resonates with me. ''Now you know the rules, don't be afraid to break them.''
@FaithForTheWin, the metaphor of the stranger breaking into the mind and shoving things around - I love it!
@Annie Thank you for your comment 
I'm glad you like the metaphor
A few days ago, @TaintedHaze posted these poems in another thread. I moved them here to avoid duplicative threads, and, more importantly, to give these poems more attention from the 7 Cups community.
What they never knew
I wish they knew how hard I was trying
sometimes I seemed distant and lazy
but I wish they knew it wasn't because I didn't want to get better
that I hid what I did so my pain wouldn't hurt them
I wish they knew I never meant to make them worry
that sometimes just waking up in the morning took all of my energy
I wish they knew how much their words had hurt me
It forced my true self to hide inside it's misery
But to this day my family still doesn't know
How every day I was fighting a silent war
Behind closed eyes and slammed shut doors
They still don't know the half of it
How I dreamed to be alone
In a world that turned against me
with no where to go
How misery loved me
I stopped dreaming long before
Please tell me why I don't dream anymore
Skin heals just fine,
but where are the stitches for our souls?
I've never felt whole
Fragile, cracked
Swirling thoughts from long ago
caused all the sorrow to dig my own hole
But the don't even know
they don't even know.
(Me) -ADL
@Annie
Thank you so much~
@TaintedHaze, I can relate to this poem. The line about "stitches for the soul" is awesome.
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
