cause
Learn more about other poetry terms
when sisters fight thats how they show their love when they love they get dangerous and dangerous means using weapons fists and feet to do their battles which also means one of them will start crying as soon as the other one hits them so in that
Why do they keep doing this to me?
Don't they know I'm F'ed up on several meds?
That I'm emotionally unstable?
Right to left, left to rightwe are safe, in the dark of night.With the moon beaming on our pale skin, oh so brightdon't suck my soul out, scream with all our might.Listen to the slow vibrations, the tiny sleeping bees
The words come from a dark place,
on a normal day they do not come.
The only place I can be is in darkness.
Why do words only come from my dark place?
Why can I not bring them from happiness?
What can you expect me to do? After always telling me I'm so little, so few. I'm never enough, not for you.
I often dream of myself floating from space, looking down upon the planet and watching its peacefulness. And from up above, if my voice could somehow reach every human being, I would say, "Stop trying to dominate nature."
THE REALITY OF THE WORLD
by Kevinia P.
Why is the World so harsh, and so cold?
My very favorite comfort in life is closing my door,
Not dealing with the judgment that opinions deliver,
Living safe in a hollow home of maybes and seems.
The death of so many hurts
worse than how many are infected.
Why do you pollute?
Can't you see what you're killing?
Through my bloodstream and I become infected.
A day spent in torment,
A witch with an infernal love of torture,
A job to educate, yet she fails.
Why doesn't she see,
That we struggle to find the solution,
That this is the epitome of masochism.
When a feeling becomes so warm
so warm I want to taste it
not a harsh slap of spicy flavors
a little over a second, a minute over an hour ago,
They called us,
a little over day, a week over a month ago,
They called us,
a little over a year, decades over centuries ago,
They called us the future
Why do we love if it hurts to do so?
And why do we long for something so far away?
What is our reason for being, for existing?
And what defines who we are and separates us from the others?
Looking outside the window,
As a child...,
Watching the world go by,
I asked myself where do I fit in,
Why do I look this way,
Why do I feel this way,
Is this wrong of me?!,
