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i used to think
that i just had
awful luck.

the kind where you feel
like everything you do
is an inconvenience to everyone.
and you just can't seem
to stop
making things
go wrong.

like the other day,
i straightened my hair --
and it just started raining
the moment
i got outside.

or how last month,
i made a mistake at work
and just that moment,
my boss walked in.

or two years ago.
my best friend had left me
over a petty,
little,
stupid argument that
should've never happened
in the first place.

but i didn't just have
awful luck.

the puzzle pieces,
were slowly coming
together --
after awhile at least.
it never happens in the blink
of an eye.

i grew to love my natural hair.

the borders of it
were first,
slowly forming --

i still had my job.

clicking together.
i didn't pay any mind,
it didn't occur to me just yet
what was happening.

then the second border --

i met my best friend.

and i slowly began
to consider the idea
that there was
a meaning for this.

no, i'm not sure
if i believe in heaven
or hell,
or if theres a lord above.

but i do know
someone's there
either way.

putting together
everyone's puzzles.
date worte: 12/8
in english, i drew inspiration from radioheads song, jigsaw falling into place, gave me a cute little idea. how is everyone?
A shadow slipped through the silence of my soul — the memory of a thief who once stole more than gold.
A Beautiful Thief 09/08/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
eliana Jul 23
I will rise
After every fall.
I will rise
And stand tall.

I will rise
Over the wall.
I will rise
Above them all.

Like the sun,
Which never dies.
Though sets every night,
Every day it does rise.

Like the ocean
Whose tides
Many times they are down,
But invariably they rise.

Like the trees,
From seeds they arise,
And heights great
They rise and rise.

After falling once,
Twice and thrice,
Again and again
I will rise and rise.

I will rise
After every fall.
After every fall
I will rise.
I'm trying so hard to be gentle with myself.
I offer endless compassion and grace to everyone else.
Why is it so hard to show myself the same?
I wish to know the answer to the question,
to call it by name.
I know that the trauma I've endured plays a large role.
Too many years of feeling that my voice my silenced.
What was the price of my compliance?
Too much exploitation in corporate America.
Too much has been taken without being repaid, all in effort to make another dollar,
to survive another day.
Too many words were lost in the pursuit of it all, and now I struggle to save those words on paper, a portrait of words.
Still, little by little, I am climbing out of myself, reaching a metamorphosis with a pen.
Slowly but surely,
I am starting to believe again.

-Rhia Clay
This poem explores the themes of trauma and the journey of overcoming it, alongside the challenges of navigating the current economy. Both aspects are tough to handle, and many individuals are striving to juggle these issues along with various other obligations. Nevertheless, we persist and find ways to cling to hope and self-acceptance.
CE Uptain Jul 6
Santa Clause, I still believe in you
I know where your power is
It’s the love of children
OK you haiku experts, chime in. Am I doing this write? Only a crazy rhyming poet would try his first haiku about Santa Clause in the middle of July.
Zee Jul 1
Love is like a curse.
Making me believe.
In things I haven't felt.

My heart is a muscle.
So it must have a memory.

Of somebody's love.
Lost long ago.

Only there is no beating heart.
No unsaid remark.

No last chance.
No last dance.

It turns out.
I'm getting pretty good.
At this solo act.

Love is like a curse.
Never to be broken.

It only breaks me.
Until there is no memory.

Curse this love.
Curse this heart.

For making me believe.
In what's untrue love.

Where's the only thing I've felt.
Is this cursed love.
Emery Feine Jun 17
she wore that dress for you tonight
she played that song for you
she had only you in her sight
she thought she had you

when the morning light woke her
she imagined it was you
when you gone and left her
she thought she had you

she wanted to put in the effort
she didn't know about you
kicked her in the mud, the dirt
while she thought she had you

and she finally believed for once
she believed in you
you must've not known that
she thought she had you
and she always ran away, expect when it came to you
Ellie Jun 16
Tired eyes
Sleepless nights
A million heists
Still none arise

Fallen fool
Drawn the pool
Who may leave
I can't believe
Brooklynn May 7
I like writing poems
I love writing poems
But am I good enough?
I try my best, in other poems...
Nev May 8
When the road gets rough and the nights get cold,
When the weight's too heavy and the fear takes hold,
Stand your ground- don't run, don't hide.
There's fire in your heart and steel in your stride.

Bruised and battered, bent but proud,
Still you rise, still you're loud.
Let the doubters talk, let the storms all rage,
You're more than a chapter- you're writing the page.

So tighten your fists and lift your chin,
The battle isn't over - you're built to win.
No matter what, you have to have that positivity and that belief in yourself. What good is another person's belief and support if you don't have any of that for yourself to start with? It all starts and ends with you.
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