#prose poems on Hello Poetry

Norbert Tasev Mar 27

I would often take my own destiny; What I once thought could not own, and maybe it can't really be mine anymore. As a hesitant, lame, ***** person, I would just look at how many more ways I have to do to survive they could get along. The man, whom others looked at, spit on, exploited, as if to start slowly, disappear in the retina of staring mirrors, with a bending waist, tormented shoulders, which often carried atlas burdens, instead of others, if not. The squeaky sand grains of existence are their gears - so they often get crazy.

I was just forced to rotate a potted number; Say, do I admit the true, wounded word, which God really hurts, because the dog is not very attentive to patience, through-fear-I would be a mistake to chew on the Hungarian Ugar-pendant, where the average is taboo-til and cannot be.

To the core, my visceral stigma heart only shapes me, shapes me, and with step-by-step tools, I have a hard time squeezing in, raising my head; The pain of disappointments, handshakes, creatures is no longer pilling, but I prefer to be warned, too suspicious and too careful at three steps away.

All of my hesitant moves turn back to me when life is about to me, and while my cumbersome, ship -wrapped days, on the barren, rushes past me, even the deserved happiness, and I can feel a little human.

Like the rootless tree, which is forced to tolerate its harsh fate, the screams of ruthless, ruthless fierce windstorms, and the emerald-green scaly foliage; My drooling, sickly organs whine; Permanent hypertension and hypertension are infected. I've been forced to carry the absolute treasure of the facts for a while!

#lyric #poetry #prose #poem #poetic #portrait #literature #social

Norbert Tasev Mar 26

Echoes of lost playgrounds

Childhood should have been gentle and clean until possible. The gloomy, deliberately dark nights can hardly bring comfort to the souls. Street lamps, neon lights, alley -smelling winds, their teeth were carved into all of our vulnerable meat when playgrounds offered people a symbolic gift instead of idyllic peace in the age of idyllic peace.

Rather, we deliberately crossed the many distressing cradle of decades; When was it easier to survive and bearable to the born tuna indifference?! With the universe, immortal fulfillment, only the cheap consolation of our ******* body, because emotions seemed to be deliberately empty and became a dirt.

In vain we could have wanted to understand the hangman time plowing deep hind legs on our face, which rather takes away, but gives nothing in return, it depends and passes only according to our relative reality. -We have been stuck here in a barren, or maybe most eternal children, who hasn't forgotten for sure that he had once had a nursery that had a Jojo, a whirlwind, Moncsicsi, Lego, and Matchbox color switching cars in the military order.

Where were the beautiful times that were left, when we could feel that everything was much simpler and clearer because there were no obscure, unclear questions and answers?! Many times it would be so good if we were eternally comforted by the everyday vicissitudes of reality, and someone would be pushed away! It would be good if someone who is comforted in our lives!

#lyric #poetry #prose #poetic #life #social #literary

tatum spencer Mar 26

secrets i'm ashamed to share

i tend to set my expectations low and let fate decide if i’m good enough for them. i never really liked the boy in 6th grade, but i really loved the one that got away. i wear pants a lot because i hate shaving my legs. my dad made me uncomfortable throughout my childhood, but i was too afraid to say anything because i thought his actions were normal. i trick myself into thinking i’m lazy but i think i’m just too tired to try. my family is falling apart and no one cares enough to fix it. when you come over, i shove all of my clothes (clean and *****, i didn’t have time to check (i had time to check but didn’t care enough to use it)) under my bed and hope you don’t notice. i feel like i’m not a good daughter but i don’t think i’m a failure just yet. i’m too tired of searching for a boyfriend but i really want one. i know he’s the problem but i wish things were the way they used to be. i’m lonely and i think i’m the reason why. i want to change my identity and i want to escape life and explore another world.

#poetry #prose #secrets #relatable

Norbert Tasev Mar 25

empire of beacons

Already everywhere, it is self -indulgent, manipulating, stingy, boiled sheep. "Yes, Director! How did the weekend pass? Do you command coffee, tea, sweetener? The professional conference and meeting may not be more deadly boring anymore! " - hears a powerful head in the murmuring heads of the monotony.

Chattering, chicory-sounding collapse, universally, was also overwhelmed by the mass-wreathed masses; Hebrencs priest, promise, rubbing, greedy, lustful salivation, maid-smelling ringworm-pitian pitching no end or length. Wildlife, Celeb media of Hübrist. Because for the most part, you will have a heartbreaking heart at any time, if no one is willing to watch or noticed that more and more things are wrong and ruined in Central and Eastern Europe!

Wandering, afterlife's griefs have moved to our forever guilt -in -law, which do not want to start to start, but even to sew well; stubborn, hard, or scrappy, easy -to -peeling onion?! As if there were no many choices nowadays. For thirty -six hours a day, a free infarction in captivity in the upcoming organization is stabbed, which - usually - no one counts.

Gravitational idyllic dreams are drawing down the long -term and precisely planned harmony and prosperity; In the piano teeth of the piano, the problem is, and while people playing riddles around the loud illusion, the rope nerves that are racing and troubles are being responsible for each other.

#lyric #poetry #prose #verse #free #life #literature #social

Norbert Tasev Mar 23

Hearts in the world of statuses

Fossilized smiles, starting, small -style, superficial gestures, splashing, rattling as broken flowers, not only in the heart of bribes - but also from ***** syrupy, self -stamping shows.

The question of the already boredom, how am I in the boredom?

The sober, logical free -thought thought -if at all -stops the sans, to discuss sans as a meaningful, intelligent adult, because it is customary only in the top ten thousand, or in cafes renovated for billions, gentlemen.

Romance, beautiful eating, helpful, unselfish love smiles are no longer what was and could have been; The handcuffs of pity came, while the love passion of the universe is a sharpened spear, which leaves killer-stigma wounds, which are increasingly difficult to heal. The uncertainty disillusioned from the whites of the soul is echose's ventricular response: a crumbling, smelling blasphemy every five minutes, any kind of sour cream, like a parent or an attractive nurse.

The entire Alamus line of compromise negotiating positions was deadlock: "Do you still love honestly and really nice?! Or do I just need a good social status, and do you need relationships that you can boast of any of your partner queen girlfriends as a diva?!

#lyric #poetry #poetic #prose #vitality #literary #social

tatum spencer Mar 22

mercury is still in retrograde and i still believe i’m unlovable

maybe if life moved forward (if i moved forward) then i would find someone better than the boy before. mercury comes with misunderstandings - at least that’s what google is telling me - so maybe you couldn’t tell how much i really liked you (maybe the signs i was giving you weren’t enough and maybe the signs you were giving me were too much.) how much i thought you were the one. how much i dreamed about you (ashamedly, still do). how you could have asked me to prom with a big sign and how i would jump into your arms and scream "yes! of course i’ll go with you." and i even imagined us breaking up and me storming into my room while my mom tried to comfort me and how i cried to olivia rodrigo because i want to relate to breakup songs. i want to feel the heartbreak and see if it's as bad as everyone says it is. that’s not selfish, right? the want (the need, if we’re being real) for you to rip my heart out of my body and shatter my insides until all that’s left of me is broken glass and blood that spells out "see, mom? i like boys afterall." i would look down at the proof that i am lovable and turn my sobs into smiles because i survived the war and am left standing (just without a heart, the will to live, and the haunting realization that you will never love me the way you never did).

#prose #poetry #relatable #writing

Norbert Tasev Mar 22

A shipwreck in the inventory of Odyssey

You may not be crying for your forgotten pigeon hairs here; It began to scream, and for the nights, when you have almost gotten the nightmares of the nightmares, the dog could not remember it. Every decade, you still need to take all the lawyer of your life, the guillotine movement of the petty, envious, insidious gazes, which will get closer and closer to the promises of small-shaped retaliation.

Straits wounded the outlines of your childhood back, which, in a short time, was completely tired, but you couldn't say anything, and you didn't pay attention because you were a minor legally, humanly.

In your eternal child, the weathered, slightly stubborn face shows the harsh-trenches that you believe to be lost that you can no longer get back; nor in the form of gift or privileged gestures - your inner soul falls cannot even erase the traces of your conscious selfishness. - You book your losses in a nice line, your Talmi-ócska merits, with which you either intentionally bread, or trampled your remaining dignity.

The stigma mines faded in trembling, trembling inside are tense, shouting, or just begging: "Where do you stay for such a dear angel, who with your one glance you comfort the restless whimpering, orphaned worn-out kids I stayed?! Apocryphal secrets.

Celeb-smelling exibitionist **** is the romantic self-pity of sentimentalism and the glass pots of mosaic. The last adolescents cherish dandelion loves because - maybe - they have no mood for the world of superficial, muddy absolute adults!

#lyric #poetry #poetic #prose #vitality #literary #social

tatum spencer Mar 20

i crave validation but i hate to feel pitied

validation is like drugs. the first time i got validated, i felt like i was floating. i was above cloud 9 just by someone telling me “you’re my friend” in the third grade. not best friend. not my soulmate. friend, and i couldn’t stop my smile from spreading. feeling needed by someone who doesn’t actually need you is a fantastic feeling. that’s why my heart races when anybody invites me to hang out. they didn’t need attention - didn’t need my attention, specifically - but the syringe filled with proof that i am a fun person to be around sticks directly into my veins and stays there until the medicine runs out and i no longer have the serotonin for those around me. the euphoria and i dwindle, and i grow distant, because it’s become evident that i wasn’t needed for your journey; i was just a pitstop. someone who could give you some laughs but doesn’t have enough advice to listen to your problems. i can tell you your dress looks nice but i don’t have enough courage to defend you in a fight. i can remember your favorite color but you didn’t remember me enough to resurface old photos of us at fifteen and smile at the thought of our memories. i’ve been down this road before. trust me, i have. i want to be seen, but not to be sorry for. don’t look at my past and defy it as my present. i’m not the lonely kid who sat on swingsets and barely had the strength to push herself. i’m not the little girl who had no one to twirl me during daddy-daughter dances. i am still the girl who wishes things were different, but you don’t need to know that. so please, tell me that i’ve changed. tell me that you’re proud. tell me that everything is going to be okay, and that i’m worthy to stay the night. that i won’t become another pitstop.

#poetry #validation #writing #prose

rick Mar 20

good enough

not good enough to be in your band
or join your basketball team
but good enough
to spectate or be your water boy
not good enough
to pass your classes academically
but good enough to receive a passing grade
for participation that helped me graduate
so I’d be out of your hair
not good enough
to break bread with you at the lunch table
because our parents made different salaries
but good enough
to be put down when you needed a laugh
or to feel better about yourself
not good enough
to answer back when I needed your help
but good enough
to be a nostalgic crutch when you need someone
to lean on
I’ve only been good enough
to stand in front of your machines,
to fill out your paperwork,
to sweep your floors
but not good enough
to advance at this job or in this society
and now I’ve found myself conquering the world
despite your predictions, despite your conjectures
despite your criticism, despite your disparaging remarks.
I have made myself who I am today based on the indifference
towards your humiliation, your rejections, your rebukes
so, if you see me on the streets and I don’t say “hi”
it just means you weren’t worthy of acknowledging
and if I give you the sharp eye and spit in the trash can
it only means I’ve forgotten about you completely
and that is good enough for me.

#poem #prose #goodenough #selfworth

Norbert Tasev Mar 20

The tyrannical illusion of perseverance

In front of us is a messy, -to say, -in the ***** of a stoic, tuna indifference, perhaps a bit persecuted, human -wreeds, give each other; I still want to save their movable values. Not only the spiritual poor-but also the turrannos that want to be of power, suffer from unknown blindness, because well-suited false interests are cheap, lying, and even so, the average is the same.

There may have been nicer, more successful worlds all over themselves, and as light promises, anyone who is still very susceptible to it was well-placed. Initially, all wills and intentions are creative and evolving, and in the meantime, it becomes manipulated, which runs through hand and middle and is ready for a pseudo -illusion, in which, undoubtedly, it can even be clung to a couple of decades, but after an accelerated disappointment; What was the point of formulas for dreams of card castles?! - Because the consciousness is increasingly not taking its place in its possible van.

And while upstairs, the pigeons who are desiring to fall in the sky can raid and they can empty their waste material in their mourning, the simple average can hardly wipe not only the liquid snow-white snacks on his head, but also the petty bribery of capitalized life.

It would be good to steal the expandable time, as well as the secret of Eden, a little for ordinary people; Instead of an imaginary joy and apparent, acute happiness crushes, extend the tangible prosperity that you. Not only spiritus, but even the Sus, is losing weight too early.

#lyric #poetry #poetic #prose #vitality #literary #social