My shins ignite like pistons hitting the air/gas mixture in a combustion chamber,

I have been marching for too long,

The grey gravel beneath my unfortunate feet are accumulating the soot from this greasey pack of youth,

The men in the black masks keep shouting,

Left, they shout,

Right, then left again,

They take extra care when it's time to funnel us into our respective lifestyles,

Appearing like toll booths on an expressway,

Each archway is labeled,


A quick glance through the archway shows activity on the other side,

The path is paved,

Smiling parents are handing out certificates,

A fresh change of clothes,

There is excitement in the air,

Most of the kids seem happy,

Some are herded into engineering,

Some psychology,

Some mathematics,

A few brave one's choose defense,

But there is only one grey box,

That has no label,

There are no parents on the other side,

No clothes being issued,

The gravel path beyond it seems to strech on into oblivion,

I feel an unbelievable attraction to this grey box,

I allow my feet to guide me to its entrance,

Where it seems no line has ever been formed,

There is no one there to welcome me,

To hand me new clothes,

To shake my hand, congratulations,

It is so,



Once again I give into my desire,

To ease myself through the gate,

In disbelief that no one can stop me,

The men in black masks simply watching,

Guns at their side,


I have reached a sanctuary

I have all of this earth to myself

All of this life

I will leave no stone unturned, I say

That's when the archway closes behind me,

A single black mask struts out from the fortification,

With a stool and a revolver,

He places down the stool and the gun,

Looks at me,

And slowly walks back behind the archway,

Locking the door behind him,

The guards on top the booths have out their lawn chairs,

Eyes trained on me,



As if it's the start of a boxing match,

They're waiting for me break,

As they did,

When they let themselves die,

For their handshakes and certificates,








Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this with a head cold so if it's weird that's probably why

View mypersonalpoems777's Full Portfolio

All the Instances in Which I Feel Absurd

Floating in and out of space
I close my eyes to calculate
All the instances in which I feel absurd

Though carried by galactic grace
Not surprising that I’ve found a way
To stumble over everything

A long dark plunge into the blue
The unfamiliarity easily construed
There’s nobody here

Colorful shades of dark, dull, and gray
I’m not down but I’m not up, I’m just around
Hoping, but not anticipating, a change in tune
A lot less willing to be now
If I could pause myself and never again resume

Floating in and out of space
I close my eyes to calculate
All the instances in which I feel absurd

Author's Notes/Comments: 

posted from old account

View iseespiders's Full Portfolio

Silently - March 22, 2013

Chapter One


I am a new aquaintance that is yet to make a sound.

Yet to be understood, I show no feelings aloud.

When I depart from the public, go home to flee,

I feel the need to tease, to please my sanity.

Silently, I cry. Silently, I die. Silently, I try

to overcome my insanity; bridge over the pain in me.


You make me feel like an outcast just because I'm not like you.

Should I be like who? I'm sick of your complaining,

you're straining me, draining me of energy. Listen to me, please.

It's not you, it's me! My plea for individuality is wrong;

too long do I have to wait for acceptance; you'll never repent this.

Take my fist and bury it under the sand; my will in your hands.

I'm powerless against conformity. I'm just a deformity

on this tumor you call me. Free me of this disease,

I'm fucking begging, on me knees. Please, please,

make me who you want me to be. Tell me, please, what you want to see.

I don't care if it's not me. Make a new me. One you want to see.

Make me what you want to see.

View unheilig's Full Portfolio

The Way I’m Built

I’ve spent forever,
Not sharing my problems.
I’ve hidden so much,
More than I could mention.

My mind is my own,
It isn’t your playground.
My feelings are the wind,
Touching you but going unseen.

The secrets I’ve kept,
Are used to their cave.
Hidden in the dark,
Out of sight out of mind.

It’s not that I don’t trust,
It’s that I don’t want to say.
If I’m hurting you’ll never see,
Hidden away behind my smile.

A lash out isn’t fair to you,
But it’s the only chance you’ll get.
The only way you’ll get a clue,
Is me being mad at you.

Don’t fear my madness,
It’s just misplaced.
You’re more important to me,
More than I thought possible.

I can’t let you know it all,
I never want to take off my mask.
It makes me happy,
Knowing you think I am.

Be content with my wishes,
And I’ll never be vicious.
Respect what I need,
And I’ll never bleed.

Sorry I’m this way,
The only thing I can say.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Is this normal?
My Mother LOVES telling everyone all her business and how hindered she is by it, but I hate people knowing what's wrong and I hate people feeling sorry for me.

View callesimo's Full Portfolio

The Outcast

Eric kept mostly to himself. Other children didn't like to play with him, but he didn't care. Instead he used to go into the woods and collect frogs.

He never had to look for them. They came to him. He pretended he was their king. He imagined he looked like them. But not really... He was bigger and a lot more dangerous.

He did quite well in school even though he seemed strange to others. Occasionally someone tried to bully him but it wasn't any fun. Eric just stood there without any reaction.

Afterwards, he used to stand in the schoolyard and stare at those who had tried to bully him. Although they didn't admit it, this made the bullies afraid. Eric's
look was so strange. Empty, cold and...dead.

Eric knew he was different, but didn't have any words for what he was. He figured he must have been adopted, because his parents wasn't like him.

In the night time he was under the water. He swam with speed and skill. His destination was a sunken city. A city with buildings very unlike those on earth.

Dark and chaotic buildings, with a geometry that would have been impossible to depict on paper. These dreams would have made most people wake up screaming, but not Eric. Instead, he was sad the dream was over.

One night the dream didn't end. Suddenly Eric was outside the place he lived, but everything was different. The sky was completely black and alien stars shone there.

In front of him was the beach and the ocean. Cliffs towered at the sides and all was shadows and silver grey. The ocean was calling him. He looked at his feet, and noticed the webbing between his toes.

Into the sea, into the darkness he threw himself. Finally he was coming home.

View no1's Full Portfolio

The Mirror in Your Eyes

You see a freak
I see me
You see an enemy
I see laughter
You see a brat
I see a happy life
You see a loner
I see a lonely day
You see a  rainbow
I see a crying girl
You see a rain cloud
I see a triumphant smile
You see a brighter day
I see tear filled eyes
Funny I see everything you see
Through the mirror in your eyes 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I write based off of feelings or things that I know are true, whether for me or friends.
This poem was written in school while I listened to people talk bad about someone I didn't know.

View bloodbutterfly's Full Portfolio