Poetry anybody?

I had a really nice one I wrote about a firing squad, but I can't seem to find it
I think I might have burned it by accident along with the rest of my school stuff lol

Reality

What is reality?
Is it the world we live?
Is it the lingering kisses
that true lovers give?

Or is it the sorrow of the wounded?
Steel and blood, death and pain?
Is it the blood that stains my hands
and leaves with coming rain?

Is it the song of day break swallows?
Or the tune of midnight larks?
Is it the melody of nature
that sings it's song on Hallow night?

Is reality what we live,
or the lives our minds create?
Is it something we may learn,
Or is the knowledge far too great?

We can only decide for others,
For only a divergent soul can tell.
So we float in faithless doubt,
While reality is living Hell

ok i know this is totally random and i just made it up so dont laugh.... i was bored and i just randomly thought of it....

Very well written Ali :3

thx :D

for you just randomly making it, its still really good
the last time I tryed just whipping something random, I tryed making a ballad about William Wallace/scottish revolution
didn't turn out to well lol

lol :D thx

anytime ;)

I am nothing.

I scream in your face, but you don’t hear me.
I stand in front of you, but you don’t see me.
I grab at your clothes and your hair, but you don’t feel me.
Those who can’t feel can’t touch others.

I cut away at myself, tear at flesh and bone.
I cut out all the pain, all the loneliness.
I bleed out all my flaws, they fall to the floor.
The scars on my skin match the scars on my soul.

I am empty, hollow like a ghost.
I feel so light, like I could float away.
I feel so heavy, I can barely stand.
The food tastes like ash and dust.

I have two gaping holes in my face, I used to have eyes.
I have skin that rots, it decays more each minute.
I am frozen, not quite alive but not quite dead.
Those who hate themselves don’t deserve warmth.

I see death, it presses into my eyelids.
I live in the darkness, hiding from the light.
I sleep eternally, but I’m always awake.
There is no escape from myself.

I have no hope, no expectations.
I have no love, given or to give.
I have no worth, I’m useless.
There is no fire, no spark of light.

I am nothing.



please don't ask about this in a rude mannor anyone, im going through a tough time and i needed to vent so dont just judge me on this please

hmmm idk y all the apostrophes turned into question marks.... oh well

wow, I mean wow
tears just came to my eyes from reading that
in comparison to mine, no, their is not comparison, yours is simply to good to be compared to mine, as doing such would be like trying to compare a slime covered snail (my poem) to a pure white Arabian Stallion in his prime (your poem)