random poem of fate

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The Attack from Within

The pounding in my chest,

the rushing in my mind,

it's okay, this is normal.

 

The shaking in my voice,

the deepening pit in my stomach,

I'm still slightly normal.

 

The endless fear I have,

the worsening thoughts I have,

I don't think this is still normal.

 

The terror I put myself through,

The daily lies I tell myself,

I'm not normal nor will be.

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Women

Location

23323
United States
36° 40' 1.416" N, 76° 25' 59.412" W

Who are we but mere house wives
Caretakers, Cleaners, Cooks
Who are we but mere trophies to be hung
But we are not just mere anything
We are uniquely created with a certain vision
We are workers for people we love
taking the front seat instead of the back
We are bread winners
We are women

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Seven

Location

I close my eyes and count to seven

but when i wake im far from heaven

i find that i am still in hell,

no anglic bells and my heavy heart swells

and though i feel im 'bout to burst

you demons here shall  your worst

and as i face the hellish beast

i realize my pain will never cease

its over now

my final rest

no longer shall i pray for death

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Actions of Happiness

Sometimes happiness can be hard to find with in yourself.
Happiness can't always be what's in the inside
But perhaps your actions could make you happy
Singing your favorite song out loud
Looking and analyzing the clouds
Having your own job
Even being a slob
Happiness cannot be nothing less or nothing more.
But just a simple motion that you glore.

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GÜNGÖREN Antika Alanlar 0532 335 75 06

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Gone through these.

Fri, 04/24/2020 - 19:33 -- Pun

I find myself alone every time everyday Am I thinking so much I get hurt easily but it’s been a many weeks that I am going through something I feel surrounded with people hate me so much just because sometimes I get arrogant but I get back to normal easily I feel sorry the arrogance which I did a min before . But they won’t understand . Today it’s been months with them and  I get back a big hatred got to hear from my closed once that they hate me a lot. I really don’t know how to show a fake smile even u don’t like that person and even can’t pretend like they do with me i just need peace an stay alone and enjoy my peace for a year by myself and me who is getting syco everyday thinking about same thing and hating myself I will start my meditation too to find ☮️ 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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The Cycle Goes On

Thu, 10/22/2015 - 23:28 -- DBowlin

She screams

He hears

Her words are full of tears.

She cries,

He lies,

All of their meetings are full of goodbyes.

There's hurt,

There's pain,

There's "PLEASE, don't leave me's" again.

The cycle continues,

The cycle goes on,

Never ending.

The cycle STAYs strong.

Turning, yearning, around WE go,

Where this cycle might FINALLY end is unknown.

They reach a point where they THINK IT'S THE ONE.

BUT someone walks away, and the cycle continues on...

Their minds are full of 'Why's'

And 'What did I do wrong's?'

THEY lie down at night listening to sad songs.

Their minds ARE turning,

Replaying the memory in their heads,

They're full of yearning for the dreams they have in their beds.

They wonder what they did,

Or where it went WRONG,

And when they try to find Love again,

THE CYCLE GOES ON.

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Poetry's Lesson

Poetry taught me

That as hands clutch

At what used to be

It only unravels before them

Quicker than before

And that as the stone presses

Back against the ocean

It only recedes further

Eaten by the crashing inevitable

So let’s ride the wind

And let it take us where we need to be

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Old Glory

Thu, 04/13/2017 - 15:54 -- eyes375

Turn cheeks to the side-

to the sky-

to the cracks in the concrete-

and the breeze

will snicker

and flip her hair

and prick eyes with dirt

regardless of our persistence in ignorance.

 

History isn't a badge of honor,

it is where we started,

and what we must develop from.

 

And with us-

claiming this as national pride-

the breeze indulges in another snicker,

and makes the flag wave,

 and blows more dirt in our eyes,

still closed in persistent ignorance.

 

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