# #life #suffering #sadness #pain #madness #poetry

Poetry

Folder: 
more poems

Is my therapy
If I didn't have poetry
Poetry 
Poetry
Has help me cope with 
My loss of my boyfriend
If I didn't have poetry
Poetry 
In my live I will be 
A mess and kill myself because  
I will not know how to deal
With the loss of my love
Poetry
Have saved my life because
I can put what is on my mind 
Into poem it help me get what
Is on my mind off and tell people
what on my because I am not 
Good of speaking about what I
Am feeling in person it is easy
For me to write what is on my
Mind into poetry then talking 
About my feeling to others
poetry
© Amanda Kay Hill
1/12/17

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If I Could, Don't You Think I wouldn't?

Folder: 
Dark stuff

Struggling to  stay above the meniscus 

Stagnant waters breed contempt

No push, no pull, just demands

Oily film clings in colourful swirls mocking as it suffocates

Each breath cut a micron smaller 

A slow agonising drawl, off a rabid dogs tooth

Stuck in an endless moment 

Confined to a predestined conclusion -

All forgone

I've given up on the illusion, 

Come what may,

Its not the wait that kills,

I died a while ago

This is something else entirely  

Futile frustration,

Living ends soon enough 

After life, however,

is another matter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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When Will Time Pass By?

 

It burns

 

My skin wants to disintegrate

 

Their touch, every movement

 

How could they?

 

I close my eyes, waiting for them to stop

 

I feel a sharp pain

 

Hallow and shame

 

Minutes feel like eternity

 

I wallow in pain

 

Their faces, so many

 

The lust in their eyes

 

They taunt me while they have their way with me

 

“Can’t you feel our love in you?” they say

 

My eyes widen in shock

 

Why won’t they stop?

 

I see flashes in the darkness

 

Their touch burns

 

 See how they smirk?

 

I want to scream

 

Nothing

 

I open my mouth

 

Nothing

 

-silence

 

Don’t they see my pain?

 

I try to close my eyes

 

When will time pass by?

 

Silently in agony

 

Pushing pass my boundaries

 

They have their way with me

 

Through the night

 

When will time pass by?

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Again, not a great poet, I like to express how I feel through poetry.

It its bad, its because i suck at poetry....so sorry?

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Origin Of The Poet

Once a upon of time I hated everyone, I didn't

Talk at all. I felt like a God of war battling myself

Internally, drowning in a sea of grief where Lucy

Started following me. You could see it on my 

Face, nothing but hate and anger. I made so

Many strangers avoid engaging me with

Conversation, people thought I was crazy. 

Maybe I was deranged, I flipped out in class

On people who was undeserving of the malevolence.

 

After many more events I met Tina Moore in 

This state of rage, she saw my behavioral

Issues. She didn't see a tyrant she saw a gentle

Giant that's fighting the insecurities and the hidden

Misery that was buried deep in my heart. Ms. Moore

Made me find myself in the art of poetry, I could finally

Live again without aggression. I feel saved from the

Malevolent wave, now I am the poet you see today.

 
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A Hurting Soul

Sadness stung the golden complexion of happiness

Summoning the deception of lost dignity and control

Once troubled with the son of inability

The journey to bliss and completion of the soul can silence the body from tranquility for good

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Revelations

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Winter topples the 
sting 
of muddled tongue. 

The bottle 
breaks the stasis 
of eye. 

I cede the smile 
of history. 
Somebody has left the home. 

I become my enemy 
in dark 
for the acid taste of truth. 

The moon 
had the malignant stain. 
My shirt has become dirty. 

O god, 
I never believed in you 
nor in your ugly world!

Something Wild

Folder: 
Satish Verma

That fugitive dream 
of shrinkage: 
a room in a room 
a door in a door. 
You were hurting the house affairs 
at midnight. 

The space accident 
starts dismanteling the life. 
Selective pain 
comes again. 
You start distancing from story touch, 
long vision. 

The canary brings down 
the roof. Somebody was leaving. 
The eyes will search another sky, 
another tree. 
In a light slumber 
another fall from the perch.

Something Wild

Folder: 
Satish Verma

That fugitive dream 
of shrinkage: 
a room in a room 
a door in a door. 
You were hurting the house affairs 
at midnight. 

The space accident 
starts dismanteling the life. 
Selective pain 
comes again. 
You start distancing from story touch, 
long vision. 

The canary brings down 
the roof. Somebody was leaving. 
The eyes will search another sky, 
another tree. 
In a light slumber 
another fall from the perch.

Something Wild

Folder: 
Satish Verma

That fugitive dream 
of shrinkage: 
a room in a room 
a door in a door. 
You were hurting the house affairs 
at midnight. 

The space accident 
starts dismanteling the life. 
Selective pain 
comes again. 
You start distancing from story touch, 
long vision. 

The canary brings down 
the roof. Somebody was leaving. 
The eyes will search another sky, 
another tree. 
In a light slumber 
another fall from the perch.