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Last night my poem hit 10,000 degrees,
Does that mean I burned myself a place in HP?
Or am I still on the path of becoming,
Hoping to get a lucky stroke and blow up?
Almost everything I post gets a reaction now,
I'm a name people know,
But does that make me somebody though?
What if I'm an actor,
Just playing his part,
I'll disappear when the director yells, 'Scene!'
If my art is recognized,
I've accomplished something real,
While living a dream.
But I am author enough,
That I could have a career in this?
Or will I start this journey,
But hear them yell, 'Dismissed!'
I don't know
I have been redrawn
My old rendition replaced
With bright new colors and shades

Beneath the veneer
Traces and rough outlines
My foundation sketched in time

The graphite, my blood
It was poured onto the page
Many times it was erased

Unsure who I was
Sketched again and again
Eraser shavings of shame

I was blind to see
These sketches were exactly
who I needed to be

Before I could paint
I needed a rough outline
Before I could find my place

And when I did
The shame was swept away
The brush swiftly hit the page

No longer a sketch
But a beautiful display
Of bright new colors and shades

I have been redrawn
My old rendition replaced
By a colorful bouquet
And there’s still room for change
First poem posted in nearly 4 years. Life has been a scary yet exciting, beautiful adventure of self discovery. Enjoy!
Sam S Feb 13
The sun still shines, the breeze still calls,
The rain still taps, the silence falls.
And when the moment feels just right,
The petals burst, a gift to sight.

The seed has slept, the world has spun,
The waiting game is nearly done.
The petals stretch, the colors gleam,
Awakening from winter’s dream.

It did not rush, it did not break,
It bloomed when time was sure to take.
A lesson whispered through the air—
Some things must wait to grow so fair.

The soil cradles the seed,
the seed cradles a secret.

It knows it can bloom.
Knows the sun will greet it,
the rain will nourish it,
the bees will come.

Yet still,
it waits.

Because blooming is not just survival—
it is choosing to step into the light.
Tye Jan 27
The ultimate fantasy
Is a burst of clarity.

Having it cut through brain fog,
Like sunlight through the treetops.

Opening your mind’s window,
Whose locks were painted shut.

Becoming the vision in your head,
Instead of the object in the way.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2024
Daily counting worth for measure,
is one more enough, for pleasure,

or must we, plural I, seem reassured
we know too much to believe you're right.

Working overtime, thinking you are worth less,
than the wages paid a worker on duty as chief
satisfied mind, absent all care and concern,

for fretfull regulated safety well behind that wall.

------------------
Okeh, this was easy, today, went by, I encouraged an unfilled whine, and did not laugh at its naïve reasonings.
Hawley Anne Jul 2024
You were terrified to lose him,
so you lost yourself instead.
You kept on being mistreated,
"I'm used to it" was all you said.
You became the girl that when abused simply said "the fault is mine"
You became the girl who knew the truth but still accepted every lie.
Because it became easier,
to keep your thoughts inside.
So you became the girl who cried alone,
then told everyone "I'm fine"
So much from you was taken,
that you had nothing left to give.
So far past your breaking point,
you became the girl without the will to live.
You became so used to being last,
by putting everyone else first.
You became the girl barely in the race,
because you were running it reverse.
Your time and love was wasted,
given to undeserving men.
They only lied; hurt and cheated you
then they left you out for dead.
You were so terrified to lose him,
that you lost yourself instead.
But I wonder if you went back in time,
Would you make the same choice again?
Bekah Halle May 2024
If my thoughts can lead
To depression,
And from our thoughts, we speak,
I revolt against my thoughts;
I have become my joy!
My heart fills, and
I am full of love,
My posture lifts,
I am full of hope,
My movement quickens,
I see opportunities, and
I will become my joy.
I am joy!
Bekah Halle Jan 2024
The fight of the mind twisting and turning,
tortured; I am learning,
my mind and soul conflict.

Desire enlarges,
but duty surpasses,
action thus constricts.

Dreams or delusions?
Passion or fusion?
Which am I to pick?

Where can I go?
to see this through,
and become the one who I seek?
A M Ryder Aug 2023
I started isolating
Myself, used to
Say everything
I was feeling
But then I guess
I just stopped
I wanted them to
Love me for who
They thought
I was
And not who I felt
Myself becoming

Ever think about
How horrified the
People we loved
Would be if they
Found out who
We really are?
So we dig deeper
Into our lies everyday
Ultimately hurting
The only
People who
Are brave enough
To love us
Wish I was
Brave enough to
Love them back

We don't have
As much time
As we think
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