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Everon Young Jun 2020
We live in a society
Who can't face reality
Hiding from harsh truth
The youngster are becoming rot.

Always following social media
Without having one's own idea
That's the real we face nowadays
I wish it become better someday.
Mona Jun 2020
like and friend and unfollow
like and friend and unfollow
like and friend and unfollow
like and friend and unfollow
like and friend and unfollow
it's just media.
Ankita Dash Jun 2020
You scroll through your social media where people have sworn not to show what they feel like so their 'profiles' can be aesthetic to look at.
You look at dog videos and swear not to think about your dead dog with whom you never got to cuddle one last time.
You walk through streets you've never been to hoping that it'll lead to a story.
You kiss boys and girls you don't really like and pretend you're waiting for the three-days-later call. You constantly listen to Cardi B because you can't take another Bon Iver song.
You fake a smile, an ******, a brave face.
You look at where you're staying and pretend not to long for that one little park in Paris where  you could spend your entire life.
You unblock the ones you lost and feel a fleeting sense of comfort in knowing that they're not happy either and block them again, to feel 'powerful'.
You look back at your journey and sigh because you haven't done enough. You curl into your uncomfortable bed.


And then you realise you're not done.


You realise your journey is just starting. There's so much left for you to say and do and teach and feel. You realise that the best part about yourself is that you're hopeful, despite it all. You realise that despite all the bad that has gotten to you, there's still good, and you can create it. You realise that you've places to go and people to fall for. You've learnt to become your own teacher and your own pupil. You realise that the sky is not the limit for you. You think people calling themselves a work in progress is a clichรฉ, but you know you're one yourself. You're not magnificent. But you will be.


So you light up a cheap cigarette and play the Bon Iver song. And you wait.
This is obviously not a poem, but prose. I just wanted it to be up here.
Irleenda Jun 2020
๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ.

after all
the late night talks
and spilled juicy secrets
the virtual kisses
and fake promises
shared by lonely and
loveless strangers,
is that all?
that was it?
what went wrong?
just like that,
you don't talk anymore.
does it hurt?
does it sting?
or immune you became.

๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ.

in this era and time,
love is one click away
faking affection
till you make it,
from falling in love
to being dumped,
to tales of virtual
romantic liaisons
and online trysts
is new normal
and oh so familiar
like good ol clichรฉ.

๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ.

speechless?
shocked?
feeling betrayed?
ok,breathe and cry a little
then mourn for your plastic love,
do not expect something that
started with a poke and a wave
to last a lifetime
up to the grave.

๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ.

everything
seems disposable
the ugly truth is
seldom exposed
often faked and filtered,
hidden behind layers
of limited-edition masks
designed to please
the love-starved.

๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ.

one statement
one killer line
one wrong move
the game is over
before it begun.

๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ.

๐Ÿ‘‹๐Ÿป๐Ÿ‘‹๐Ÿป๐Ÿ‘‹๐Ÿป

-epl๐ŸŒป
Inspired by a deleted group chat.
kiran goswami May 2020
I posted a picture on the internet today,
after handpicking the best of all.
While she is left with no choices,
so she walks on the roads that burn
carrying herself upon her feet that bleed.

I took my camera and checked up the lighting,
as I wanted the picture to look 'natural' and 'candid'.
A cameraman rushes to her to click a picture
as he is a magazine photographer searching for stories real.

I sweated and protested about the scorching heat
while I set up my camera.
She wipes the sweat off her father's forehead
on which the glabellar lines cease to exist,
while hers is carrying the roots and branches of it.

I held books in my hand to strike a pose
as my fingers laid in front,
whose nails I painted yellow for this summer.
She holds the handlebars of her bicycle she can no more hold or paddle,
her nails have painted themselves with the colour of mud.

I clicked too many pictures for me to count or recall.
Even after thousands, she remembered how many miles is home.


I captioned my picture
'No more lonely quarantine',
She hardly knows alphabets or words to even ask for help.

I swiped from filter to filter
selecting an 'aesthetic' one.
She drinks the pitch-black liquid,
they tell her is water,
without even demanding for 'cleaner' one.

I finally edited and made a perfect picture,
with my wide grin sealed with a gloss,
And the cameraman too asks for her to smile for once.
She with her deserted lips forms a curve that makes the cameraman frown.

He deletes the picture from his camera
as it would be disliked by all,
It got 1.9k likes,
The picture I posted on the internet today.
Hephzibah May 2020
Joy
Searching through the comments
Wandering through the photos
Maybe in the compliments
Or perhaps in the responses?

Where is this joy
My heart so longs for?
Why does it deplete
Ever so often?

But I know of everlasting joy;
Not found in the comments,
Nor in the responses or comps
But in the never changing Father,
The I AM that I AM.
Merlie T Apr 2020
We got an orange president
and no way to report the news
They divided us and they conquered
I don't give a **** about you
You don't give a **** about me
Or us, or them, or justice, or humanity
We just gotta get the thumbs up,
the validation
and the evil green.
Mrs Anybody Apr 2020
a part
of me
is sick of
comparing
myself
with all the girls
in  my environment
and on
social media

and the
other part
of me
just can't stop
pulling myself
down
also check out my other poems!  :)
Lavender Menace Mar 2020
Stimulate me.
The serotonin pops like bubbles in my head.
Instagram, Snapchat, Tumblr.
I 'M in need of more happy chemicals
To bring me higher than my follow count.
I can't live happy with just one
L O N E L Y like
So please stimulate me. I need more attention in my life.
Okie lil update, so life officially *****. I'm extremely isolated due to quarantine. And don't have the motivation to get out of bed or eat so I think I'm just really depressed? Coronaviris is high key killing my throat rn and I'm really really tired of having no friends, geuss being a terrible person who distances herself from all of her friends every time they get too close to her kinda has its downsides, huh.
B Sonia K Feb 2020
So many written down and erased captions,
And recanted decisions to leave as is,
And multiple distractions,
Contemplations,
Platitudes and words of gratitude
All written down only to be erased again
And finally an overthought decision
To settle for a hashtag
All for an online post.
...
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