ture friendshipeven though people in our lives come and go they all leave a little piece of themselves behind the world keeps spinning around and around but everything stops in your mind nothing seems worth it everything feels wrong even though you want to cry you need to be strongand although you're feeling lost and alone if you need to talk just pick up the phone there's always someone who will listen to you even though people come and they go you'll always find friends that are true.
AloneClose my eyesAlone5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Try to breath
Even though I lost the will
Swallow my sadness,
Don't show the pain
Try and plaster a smile
On my face.
Keep a heart beating
That doesn't want to go
Keep the blood flowing
Until you have to let go
Keep the warmth in my body
Although I feel so cold
Because I feel so
At World's End LITTLE BOYAt World's End2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
boy girl r e
c o n c r e t e r
Scales Of Life01010010 01001001 01010011 01000101 - We begin our quest on the scales of lifeScales Of Life2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I- The newborn wolf cub: The first emotion reflected in his tired eyes is that of mystery; a
curious devotion to the enigma of the moonbeams that cut through the trees, reflecting in
his inexperienced gaze. He calls out to the blinding light, beckons for its shadowed silence,
and eventually finds comfort in the embrace of mother's love. In that moment, he hears no
cruel sound his purity can't contest. He shuts
out the light as he slowly drifts away to rest. // Perfection was a value whose worth /
//was queried due to Perfection's birth./
Free WillFree Will.Free Will3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Is free will a devout gift or a curse?
Was it free will that granted a desperate man to steal an old lady's purse?
Was it free will that resulted in multiple bodies carried in a hearse?
Was it free will that justified a police officer to shoot the accused first?
Was it free will that allowed a family man's mentality to be so perverse?
Could this world of ours get any worse?
Free will gives us the chance for all of us to be distinctive.
But as a consequence people can act corruptive and vindictive.
But without this choice, our lives would be constrained and restrictive.
Undoubtedly these two differing perspectives are contrasting and conflictive.
Without free will our actions and thoughts would be controlled and predictive.
But with this gift our proceedings maybe considered as harmful and afflictive.
Of course free will does has have it's varied betterments.
This advantage allows us to direct and assert our developing intelligence.
Despite using this intelligence for morally
Schizoid Personality DisorderSolitude -- My Sanctuary.Schizoid Personality Disorder5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Silence -- My Llullaby.
Observation -- My Occupation.
Intelligence -- My Curse.
Please, don't invite me to an outing that a normal person would attend in a heartbeat.
I won't hesitate to turn you down, I'm perfectly content being alone, in fact I would much rather be by myself.
It's not that I hate you, in fact I have no feelings about you, I just don't like people.
I can fully focus on my thoughts when I am free of outside distractions, such as the mindless drabble of the masses.
Solitude is My Haven, My Utopia, My Sanctuary.
Silence is golden.
The world needs a mute button, the noise is suffocating; I can't breath outside.
I yearn for sweet silence, all I want is for a few moments of absolute silence when I unwillingly leave My Sanctuary.
Once I finally get silence, I can't help but smile and allow myself to get lost in nothingness.
Silence is An Aria with no words, A Harmonious Composition, My Llullaby.
SchizoidIt's not that I dislike everyoneSchizoid5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I simply cannot understand them, and I can't be bothered to try
People are too complicated, too difficult; all they want is sex or friendship
It's not that I hate everyone
I simply do not want their company
I prefer books, their beautiful simplicity
It's not that I hate them
I'm just so afraid to approach them, afraid of what they'll think
They'll judge me
They'll call me cold and uncaring
It's not that I hate the world
It's just that I don't care
I would've been.I would've been a masterpiece if it wasn't for the tear,I would've been.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know why I tell you this, it's not like you care.
I would've been a legend if it wasn't for the time,
Age of heroes has come and gone, all I can do now is rhyme.
I would've made something of myself, if I'd had the motivation,
But now, I just lie in wait, awaiting even more degradation.
I could've been someone, or something, I know I could,
But right now, it's all talk, all "Could, should, would."
Then there's that "if" or that "but" getting in the way,
I could've been a masterpiece, but here I am, rotting away.
No one even gives me a second glance,
I'm not a famous one like Rembrandt's.
I could've been a masterpiece if it wasn't for the tear,
If only the people looking after me had taken more care,
I could've been perfect, and remembered forever,
But now I am just a portrait, of the Forgotten Reaper.
FactionsBlack man hates White man, and Green man loathes Gray,Factions3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Gray man beats Red, for his deviant ways,
Red man and Scarlet have always been close,
And form an alliance against other folk.
Purple and Beige men are all quite convinced,
The world would be better without men of Pink,
And the heinous acts meted out by the Golds,
On the poor Pastel factions are best left untold.
The cultures of Yellow and Blue are now past,
As Green men subsumed them and wiped out their caste,
And Brown men have conquered what's left of the Tans,
All driven by fear of their fellow man.
From the midst of this chaos arises some hope,
The words of calm reason to love other folk,
And who is the prophet ending this plight,
It's the unshackled blind man who has the best sight.
I am me.I am a rock, I am a stone,I am me.3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I am all the things that you bemoan.
I will not cry, I shall not weep,
Even with this pain, even if I bleed.
You cannot make me die,
No matter how hard you try,
I will not weep, although I may bleed,
I will survive, for I am me.
And once I am gone,
And have finished what I begun.
I will still be,
For I am me.
No, Mommy Does Not Love You.No, of course I don’t love you.No, Mommy Does Not Love You.2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Here is the reason why.
You’re like a stomach flu.
But you’ll never die.
You were born of men.
Who violated me as they do.
If only I had stopped them.
If I could have just flew,
And got away from those,
That only seek to destroy.
I was inside their throws.
They had ignored my ploy.
I had to carry you around.
For a very long time, boy.
I felt like that I would drown.
Just so that you would enjoy.
Feasting upon my own food.
Stealing from my own diet.
To be one of my own brood.
And you’d never be quiet.
After you had been born.
During, as I should say.
My body had been torn.
On that very same day.
All you would do is cry.
And shower the room with ilk.
No matter what I would try.
You stole my precious milk.
For years you pestered me.
And took what was mine.
But now I shall be free.
And don’t you ever whine.
Now I shall do as I can.
To so proudly proclaim.
That because you are a man.
You’ll only be the same.
Heart On My SleaveHeart On My Sleeve.Heart On My Sleave4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Fabric keeps its distance.
Clothing unstitches upon contact.
Insulation offers little assistance.
My exposed skin refuses to interact.
Veins pump overtly.
Hair grows assertively.
Impossible to protect.
My true coating unveiled.
Clothing refuses to intersect.
Immunity has failed.
Susceptible and sensitive.
My wrapper has been removed.
Useless and ineffective.
Wounds interrupt the smooth.
The king of hearts has dealt.
With this hand I can never win.
Every emotion felt.
Against my unsheltered skin.
I wear my heart on my sleeve I cant help it.
Every feeling manifested, I have felt it.
Try to express how I feel with a felt tip.
But my defence decreases with every slight nip.
SurvivalSurvival.Survival3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Give a man a fish he will eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish he will eat for a life time.
Give a man a gun he will rob a bank.
Give a man a bank he will rob the world.
We adapt and adjust.
Constantly dithering on the cusp
Of what is considered wrong and right,
Ensuring that our ambitions remain in sight.
We would be willing to do anything
In order to get what we truly desire.
We would be willing to risk everything
Even putting our friends in the line of fire.
We may share the bounty with others,
Allowing them to experience the fruitful taste.
Given the option we will even care for our brothers.
Just as long as we are well endowed with songs of praise.
We are opportunists.
We are convincing and ruthless.
We are the modern day Judas.
Real problems - Not killing people.Bullied every day, in and out, my apathy is my best friend.Real problems - Not killing people.3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I never cared, the cuts would heal, broken bones would mend.
But every time it happened, there was a voice, whispering.
Kill them, you know you can, unleash your anger, give in.
That's the worst thing for me, about being bullied.
Not the pain, not the humiliation, but being restrained.
If I could unleash it all, I'd feel so much better...
Go on, unleash yourself, make yourself feel better!
No! I can't, and I honestly don't want to.
It's too much hassle after, being hated for what I do.
So yeah, call me a freak, call me a liar.
Come on, give in, they're just feeding the fire...
To quote my favourite song, I will not bow, I will not break.
"Hey, what you listening to? Oh, you're such an emo freak!"
I roll my eyes, apathetic, as they steal my iPod and smash it.
You're letting them?! Smash them l