Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jeremy Betts Jun 7
Could I answer "who am I?"
Even if I were to ask myself?
I'd surely catch myself being something else
Draped in some kind of forgotten lie

I bend and split like beams of light
Fractured through the prism of life
My personality's gone under the knife
I don't recognize myself, try as I might

Maybe it's been too long to yearn
For something that's too far gone to grasp
So are these last year's only pointless laps?
There's no familiar street for me to turn

I'm lost amongst my many false faces
And I can no longer find my own
This is my cross to bear alone
Falling out of my own graces

©2025
A shadow hums beneath my breath.
The sky forgets to tell the time.
She leaves me silence shaped like death.
A myth entombed in lucid rhyme.

My mirrored dreams of broken glass.
Each shard a doorway, and none the same.
I walk where all her echoes pass,
Her voice is stitched with ash and flame.

She hid a key in every frame,
Beyond the chords, in painted hymns.
I found her key and whispered her name,
Her morbid promise kept pulling me in.

Might God reside in a hollow space?
My questions hung from phantom nails.
A spiral wrapped in velvet grace,
My Searches meaning, they always fail.

She told me death can't be the end,
More like, its taught before we're born.
A stairway disguised past secret bends,
The path one takes when the soul is torn.

The body exists to shape the soul,
The form of matter we all outgrow.
She smiled beneath her final woe,
Then dressed the dusk in afterglow.

I felt her vanish just like a spark,
I felt her words ignite the void.
"Not every light gets buried in dark,
Not every pain is meant to destroy."

The walls still breathe in syntax lost,
she wrote in sighs I try to translate.
A gift that came with brutal cost,
To witness the pulse behind the gate.

The clock unwinds its hidden gears,
And time becomes a soft deceit.
I've listened past the weight of years.
A heavy truth walks without feet.

So, if you ever knock and I don't reply,
Don’t call it a curse. Don't cry or grieve.
Not every end means one has died.
Not everyone opens a door to leave.
alex May 21
I sit next to this girl
who plays the bass
like it owes her something,
head hung low
with chipped black fingernails
and untamed curls
that unfurl around her face.

I hear iron maiden playing
through her headphones
as she taps her fingers
to the beat.
She never seems to smile,
though she has the most beautiful
kohl rimmed brown eyes.

But back home,
she smiles at her little brother
and spins him around.
She takes song requests
on little sheets of paper
from sticky hands,
and she’ll play them all
just for him.

She writes him stories of
heroes and hope,
then tucks him in tight,
and disappears to her room
where she’ll write all night,
the things
she’ll never
say out loud.
Vrinda May 20
"I wish I didn’t feel this way,
A love I don’t want, but can’t push away.
I miss you more than I can show,
But I keep it hidden, deep below."

"I just want to hug you, hold you tight,
Let you see the side that’s pure and light.
The part of me that’s never changed,
But I can’t let this love be rearranged."

"I wish I was the light of your eye,
The star that makes your heart beat high.
Yet here I stand, a friend confined,
Longing for a love I can’t define."
Sasha May 18
My family and friends sing your praises.
They never see how your fist raises.
Your quiet and well behaved with visitors.
But loud and violent with me, one of your prisoners.

You could be a professional actor.
They don't even suspect how you attack her.
Wish you weren't so hidden and smart.
Maybe they'd see the pain you impart.

My teary eyes and silent pleas.
Just don't seem to make you agree.
My suffering is present.
But to you all ideas of it are pleasant.

I wish I could cry harder now.
The past pain seemed only the starter, ow.
The shadows on your face they are getting darker.
God please send me a knight in shining armor.
Immortality Apr 21
And at last—
the candle realized
it had burnt
by the thread,
it had kept safe
inside its heart.

But even in death,
as it watched the thread
burn along—
longed to protect it.
well, the candle was either the greatest fool or the truest lover
Heavy Hearted Apr 16
Happy birthday- its what they'll say
With voices which typed words delay
Where on your behalf today, they'll wish
Simply for your happiness

A wish to me, is like the Horizon
An imaginary line of undefined potential,
Forever fading when approached.
With its endless opportunity preceding
the powerless thrill of pursuit-
Forever fading,
we approach.

When Happiness is fleeting
as all emotions are,
The golden light of  this April's dawn-
Not silhouetted, scars.
After the soul's darkest night
Drifts into it's deepest blue,
nightmarish, waking dream's reveal
relentlessly, nothing new.
Decembre Apr 9
How queer the sparrow looks,
Flapping through the air.
A flash of brown, a muted sound,
Near, far off, and there.

Quick they hide among the leaves,
They neither jump nor twitch.
Behind the threads a spider weaves,
They utter no cry or pitch.

And so our little sparrow sits
There on a crooked tree.
Among the colours where it fits
And where we cannot see.
Just some fun thing I wrote when bored. Messing around with writing a rhyming poem as quickly as I could. For some reason the infamous Sparrow came to mind as a subject. I love how you can cycle past a bush and suddenly a whole swarm of them will fly off (or sometimes into), startled, while before you could hardly see them.
Jeremy Betts Mar 23
Anger found me early on
Pain came with conception
Love could never quite make a connection
A prime concoction
To fuel a blind rage and hide direction
Like an infection
Who's creation
Did I step in?
Am I the lead in this production,
Or just a reflection
Of what's broken?
I'll need to reflect on
Even the parts of me I hate on
But hold on...
Do I want the answers to this particular question?
That's the cliff hanger,
Stay tuned for the conclusion
That I too am waiting on...

©2025
Syafie R Mar 9
He never left a single note.
Just rings on wood, the scent of smoke.
A door unlocked a room left bare.
A ghost still sunken in the chair.

The bottle stood, its duty done.
A quiet war that no one won.
No cries for help, no last refrain.
Just heavy air and dried-up pain.

The world still turned the clocks still kept,
No one knew how hard he wept.
And when they asked they swore he laughed
Yet all he left was hollowed glass.
Next page