freeverse

Shoestrings

Shoestrings (an affected poem)

 

 

Are people's

lonesome adventures

depressive masquerades?

 

In a culture of one's

design; only

'tis Not

 

Deceit tied them

together like

Shoelace

 

Solace.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited 06.26.2019 (for an incorrect use of a preposition in "on the process" & since have changed it to "in the process"):  

 

I wrote a free verse poem approximately on (possibly around the afternoon or dusk, or even in the evening hrs.) This was posted on my Twitter account on the 10th of the same month.  Its working title was changed from "Shoelace" to "Shoestrings" in the process.  Pls. kindly bear w/ it, as 'tis also an affected poem. 

What is pain?

Folder: 
Finished Poems

Pain, it's never evil but never good;

It's pure hurt, betrayal, depression;

It's a dagger in your heart that you wish would go away;

You cry, take it out on yourself, push everyone away;

You're angry, so angry you can't get it out your mind;

Pain makes you go insane;

Pain drags behind you like a shadow that puts you down;

Pain gives you the excuse to drink;

The excuse to stare at the needle in your arm waiting;

Praying for it to fall out on it's own;

As you stare at the overdose in your mind;

The excuse for you to forget what or even who you are inside;

It gives you the excuse to jump off the edge;

End up six feet under;

Pain, it's NEVER evil but NEVER good.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is about all the people who are alcholics, suicidal, emo, and drug addicts. The people who don't know what to do. This, this is what they feel, what I feel, what the world feels when in pain.

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Reunited

What's this?
I found something amiss.
There's a pencil there,
Just lying on the stair.
Picked it up and what did I find?
A pencil of the same kind
That was a month ago I lost,
And a heartache it did cost.
But here it is, good as new.
Pencil, I'm glad I found you.
If you're the same one,
Guess what! You're home!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my sister's poem, and the sequel to her Lament of the Pencil.

She just put it up on Facebook with this text;


"Some of you may remember my Lament of the Pencil a while back. Well, I found a pencil that was curiously alike today, lying on the ground in the same building. Thought it seemed appropriate to write another little poem.


(Insert the poem here.)

It turned out pretty good, which is unusual. So now I'm convinced I can't write poetry unless it has to do with pencils."



So as you can see, my sister has little confidence in her poetry skills, which seems to be unfounded. Don't you think these are good?

Anyways, like before I will be letting her know about any comments, so just feel free to address them to her directly!


Link to Lament of the Pencil:


http://www.postpoems.org/authors/remniscent/poem/947465

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Lament of the Pencil

I lost my pencil today

It slipped off the desk

As I walked away.

I went back to look

But my poor pencil

It seems someone took.

It was dear to my heart

Now it's gone for good

Forever we must part.

Goodbye, good pencil.

Be well.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my sister's poem. She wrote it in October 2012, and just now wrote a sequel, so I decided to put them both up. The sequel is called "Reunited".

She originally posted it on Facebook with this text;

 

"So on average, I write poetry about... never. But today my English class was exceptionally dreary, so instead of listening to my English prof, I spontaneously decided to write about something that's been weighing deep in my heart since last night and share it here on Facebook.

Behold, the Lament of the Pencil."

 

So again, this is my sister Sarah's poem. I do have her permission to post it and the sequel "Reunited" here. I'll let her know about any comments, so feel free to address them directly to her!

 

Link to Reunited:

 

http://www.postpoems.org/authors/remniscent/poem/947466

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