heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
What it's like
In my dreams, I'm chased I'm hunted by the light so I'm running from the light with all the strength that's left of me as fast as I can and yet very slowly as in every dream I'm running towards the darkness to hide and be safe be safe from everything of this world As I hide I'm writing I'm writing it all down so anyone that come after it all so they know that I was caught I was caught in-between the life I didn't choose and the one I was thrown into I was caught in-between the fight I never started and the war I was born into just so they know. they won't read it now but it's okay cos someday they will someday when I'm no longer here they will read and know I was here.
By AZIAKPONO OVWEDE3 years ago in Poets
Masked identify
It took a while a long while to realize I needed to find it so I searched in the depth of everything I could have been, I searched in the void of everything I can be, I searched to find myself where I failed to look, there I was in the muds of today, there I hopped over covered fully in today's filth and dirt I lost my identity I lost my identity To life's battles There, it was choked and strangled To ease my passage into tomorrow I wore a mask For a while, a mask was all it was But, for because today is endless I'm the mask now My identity is now a mask to what I am now It is how I lost it, hiding. It is me, I choked and strangled it Life did it life sent its soldiers matching through my abode They tore down my walls Invaded my nakedness And brought my shame before me There, I could not be me It was there the hiding began Life has been my enemy It has ridiculed me in all my glory And successfully brought me to naught Yes life did it
By AZIAKPONO OVWEDE3 years ago in Poets
A little over everything
How do I begin to tell you? That, as in a dream, life's scenes flashes before me In no particular order. That like a toad, leaping and landing in wherever No well designate road That if life was surely a collection of experiences, Then I perhaps may have collected too many of them. because now, like a parliament of owls, they lump up together and gaze at me with disdain doused in profanity How do I begin to tell you? That, I'm looking for the source without a map, just hitting every stop perchance I might stumble on it. That I'm shooting to kill To kill my demons Without aiming, just taking shots perhaps, it will hit. That with my ammunition wasted, a truce is struck. How do I begin to tell you? That like a newborn, it is a ritual that I should cry That I couldn't tell why I couldn't explain it to the house, just wail and let them see. That in that loud cry, is a jigsaw of words and wants They laugh, it brings ecstasy to them... the sound of the cry filled with words they couldn't understand. How do I begin to tell you?
By AZIAKPONO OVWEDE3 years ago in Poets
