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| Enigmatic Poetry; Sorry, I like dark poems...-_-' | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 4 2013, 10:53 PM (119 Views) | |
| Enigma | Feb 4 2013, 10:53 PM Post #1 |
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So I like writing dark poetry...=D Here's my first submission. Fake a grin. Fake a smile. Acting happy, for a while. But in time, They catch The rhyme. Fake a laugh. Then distract. Even though I'm dead within, I can simply Fake a grin. |
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| Enigma | Feb 4 2013, 11:42 PM Post #2 |
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This isn’t me I find myself in wonderland hoping for a change I do not know who I am Or if I am too late This feeling deep inside of me It really can’t exist For when I look into his eyes It’s smile is but too much to resist I find myself feeling minimized As if I am no more I sway my mind that if I was That life would be a bore But deep inside I know the truth That life can still move on That my name is not of importance here And so I must be gone. Find me a reason for me to see or breath, or smell, or do I can’t imagine He would let it be not If He were even true? My flesh, it makes no sense to me My being that I must Why must I go on this way For a better knife I lust But am I really in the wind Or is there something more It echos deep inside of me That life, which would seem such a bore Or would my soul give unto she A sadness of no bore That in her chest, it shatter thee And of her heart no more. And so I find my reason To once again see the light Not a light for begging for but a light that in morning see I might That She may still walk among us Though us I feel withdrawn And she may with me hear The beautiful morning bird’s song. This isn’t me It never was Though I feel I can not love Twas love that keeps me here still now Though I feel it wrong But ah, for her - and for her others That thought of I to be gone must it itself, instead of me not also me, be gone. |
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| Enigma | Feb 8 2013, 11:15 PM Post #3 |
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Leave It Alone A simple word That makes a cut. I see your pain I try to mend The pain remains. Have an idea A cut for cut. New incision An infection Inflammation. Realization... I'm not a doctor. |
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| Enigma | Feb 9 2013, 06:33 PM Post #4 |
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Revolution Someday, I wanna start all over And change the world for the better I wanna do something good N’ someday, When this is all over You’re gonna see my name in the textbooks The guy who started it all I wanna travel the world I wanna try something new I want something to do Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon, let’s fill up the streets Let’s go door to door Let’s demand the change That we were promised before This is my revolution This is our evolution Yeah, this is a Constitution Sometimes, I wanna just give up ‘Cause I feel the war’s already over Like all the people already lost But then, I gotta keep my head up Looking out there for the answers Find that all the people already won I wanna travel the world I wanna try something new I want something to do Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon, let’s fill up the streets Let’s go door to door Let’s demand the change That we were promised before This is my revolution This is our evolution Yeah, this is a Constitution Oh, oh, oh This is my revolution This is our evolution Yeah, this is a Constitution |
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| Enigma | Feb 9 2013, 06:52 PM Post #5 |
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Errr...I don't know how to delete posts. -_-'
Edited by Enigma, Feb 9 2013, 07:16 PM.
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| Enigma | Mar 17 2013, 09:04 PM Post #6 |
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Realization It was like glass shattering, pieces everywhere, stabbing me in the heart. I could feel my whole body jolting as the ever growing moans held deep inside were set free. From my tongue came whales of no sound that ripped at my ears as I begged for it to stop. “Oh, God, no! Don’t let it be!” But there was no denying it. I felt as if my soul were being pulled out of my chest, like some invisible hand were reaching into me and squeezing it. I could almost feel their nails snagging at the vulnerable flesh. I could hear their laughter, feel their mockery. Like they enjoyed it. I scratched at the pain, screaming for it to stop, demeaning myself for mercy. I cried, and wept, my whole body surging. My knees shook and my feet cramped. The veins of my neck bulged. My eyes shot. My throat clamped. My tears poured. I cried for air. For mercy. For forgiveness. For revival. For help. But I could not be helped. For, It was, after all, My fault. |
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5:34 PM Jul 10