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Paras Bajaj Nov 2019
you've broken me into pieces
and in ways I can't be fixed.
You took away my bliss and
I'll never forgive you for this.
P.B POETRY
Robby Nov 2019
I’ve given away all the pieces
Of my heart and my soul
Each of you carry me with you now
That way I know you won’t ever be alone
And maybe I can feel that way too
Hussein Dekmak Nov 2019
If you go through a raging storm,
Have your life colored with sorrow,
And taste the wine of pain;
It is all good!

If you go through a bad experience,
Have your heart broken to pieces,
And your rosy dreams shattered;
It is all good!

If you go through a venture of failure,
Suffer through a dreadful  hardship,
And struggle to make ends meet;
It is all good!

After all, “What doesn't break you makes you stronger.”
Sorrow, tears, and pain will shape
Your personality and make it shine
With beauty, love, and humanity!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
Marquis Nov 2019
Summer
made it easier to cope
it was warm
the sun was out- so we were until we’d collapse like tired children after a long day of playing
it was the best time for distractions

But in the Fall
i fall
ill from the hauntingly beautiful memories of Fall’s past
when we first fell
in love
as the leaves grew gold
our relationship grew strong
as the air turned cold
in our apartments we’d belong
unable to spend a second apart
my eyes locked with yours
from morning ’til dark

Now, look where we are
each of our memories forcedly releases
Oh my darling,
how in the hell did we fall to pieces
Simon Oct 2019
Logic isn’t focused with poetry. Poetry is purposely alienating logic. Splitting up logics meanings into pieces that can’t be put back together again. Only fitting back together in a more imaginative sense. Imaginative grasp of abstract functions winding up a newer playing field. Playing fields that aren’t taught, until you instinctively bind them back together again. Logic is thinking, right? Feeling makes it subjective. Instincts collapse the two. Rearranging them back into fitting purposes without design of chance. Chance is everywhere. But design is not necessary. Only when there is a purpose in thinking. Feeling is the doppelganger of neurons smashing synapses together. Filling in logic that doesn’t need to be. Again! No design of chance. Chance is everywhere. Feeling interprets the pieces of logic when infused with poetry. Poetry being chance. Chance dominating all aspects of abstract features in its thrall! Poetry becomes infused with logical mimicking. Copying to catch the details of reasoning, interpretations, and analyzation. Repurposing the pieces to remain everywhere. So, it can learn what it means to be separate. If it’s logical, It ain't chance. It’s purely intentional! Making each separate piece its own backing logical platform. Giving rise to more reasoning, interpretations and analyzations. Never repurposing, until it’s ready to unwind itself back to the core. Like a magnet. A magnet with no purpose, rebuilding itself back up again. Diminishing the vulnerabilities of feeling too stretched out. It doesn’t hurt. Yet it’s uncomfortable. Resistance isn’t futile, if it’s a positive process one is nurturing to overcome. Overcoming stresses of desires. One has become too cramped! Cramping the style of the only vessel to hold those aspects together. Abstract features on a timer. Timer equivalent to infinite steps to achieve a goal. A goal of provenance. Provenance without limits knowing when the deed is done. Magnifying the timer to ring! Signalling the imaginative grasps on the newer playing field. How long have those abstract features of aspect attributes knowingly collected new material? And how many abstract features culminated parts of itself from far off reaches, from the original core? Except with time, comes (process inducement). A claim hinting at miniature parts of a whole, becoming their own wholes. Finding their own cores. There center. There true calling. Poetry being the culminating focus of every aspect ever formed. Producing far reaches of perspectives. Overclocking desires newly buffed up on a style that makes simple reasoning, interpretations and analyzation blush constantly!
Poetry being everything one can desire in one focal point. Desires never claiming logic if it hasn't accessed the aspects around itself, first and foremost.
Bhill Oct 2019
Pieces that are broke
Pieces I can't renovate
Pieces are missing

Passion for spirit
Passion for being myself
Passion for sharing

Bring back what's now broke
Bring back the passion for life
Bring back simple love

Brian Hill - 2019 # 246
Do you have e broken pieces?
Jaden Sep 2019
You go out late
at night, and i stay here,
picking up the pieces
of the mess you left behind.

(i am the mess you left behind
and i spend the night
picking up the broken
pieces of myself
.)
9-10-19
© XPY 2019
Deanna Sep 2019
I saw your broken pieces
And i tried to put them together
But when you saw mine
You made them even smaller...
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