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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
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Read books online Ā» Poetry Ā» Scattered Thoughts, Shattered Feelings. by Oneskyealone (book series for 12 year olds .txt) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«Scattered Thoughts, Shattered Feelings. by Oneskyealone (book series for 12 year olds .txt) šŸ“–Ā». Author Oneskyealone



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Scattered Thoughts.

I caught a thought in my hands,
Seeking to escape it failed.
Trying to seep its way out,
Through clenched fingers.
Selfishly I kept it for myself,
And watched it grow...
Backwards.
Why didn't it come from my mind?
Safely stored in a disarray,
Inside the remnants of my brain.
Never nurtured or honed,
To perfection.
Forgotten along with the rest.
Of what my head contains.
For that is what happens to,
The thoughts I cherish.
Maybe it was mine,
Before I forgot.


What divides the mind and heart?

Oceans of misery that lead up to one moment of incredible nothing,
Screams pouring out of an abyss of uncertainty,
Looking death in the eye; and biting your tongue,
And the smiling that comes from decades of harboring hate,
For the ones you love.

Chosen to collide with insanity at any given moment,
And the profound madness that is stupidity.
Why canā€™t the mortality rate of the evil be higher?
Closing doors of condemnation on the just,
Must we live with this incessant lust for more?
Traveling on wind that blows nowhere,
Prevailing over smart mouths, and loose change.

Look at how much weā€™ve got.
Weā€™re so rich in delusions.
They take up all the space in our small minds,
That could be better spent on wisdom.
Shutting mouths like closed doors,
And writing ā€œI was hereā€
Like it actually matters to anyone but you.

But when the going gets tough, the tough get stupid,
And the frail die.
Where is humanityā€™s happy medium?
If only people got the concept of life and living and love.
A mind with a heart is a terrible thing to waste.


Dichotomy

Thereā€™s beauty in an out stretched hand,
But itā€™s giving you the finger.
Thereā€™s pride in this standing ovation,
Hands clapping over your mouth.
Havenā€™t seen you in a long time,
So I wave frantically for help.
Lending a helping hand,
Into their pockets.
Giving just to receive,
ā€¦Compliments.
Fake smiles are contagious.
Everyone now,
Has false teeth,
And a hidden agenda.


Prison

Shapeless thoughts form.
I smile and start to speak.
You frown and I follow suit.
Forbidden.
I feel thoughts rise up,
In my throat like bile.
Swallowing, I choke.
Gasping at words like stolen air.
Breathing in faster,
As you tick, talk,
And I explode.
You smile,
And that's a favor,
I will never return.
Feeling faint,
I retract all information.
Every breathless statement,
Every hopeful question,
That fell on your tyrannical ears.
Every word held out,
With freedom on my tongue,
And you act like I'm the last thing in your way.
As the last obstacle to overcome,
Youā€™d think I'd be up for the fight,
But it's just not in me.
Your words are merciless.
Every syllable stabbing my heart,
With the passion you don't feel anymore,
And that I can no longer deny.
The death is swift, but painful.
And at last, we share a smile.


Haiku.

Caught inside this box
Pondering all the ways to
Freely think outside.


Swallow

I staple nametags,
To all the feelings I donā€™t feel.
I reach over your head for included,
You dodge and I find love,
Among your feet.
Every tear aims for the throat,
Cutting with disappointment,
And I seek refuge in a memory I donā€™t own,
And that you wonā€™t remember.
Sifting through a bottle,
Trying to find sober,
But instead, surprise.
I wonder why every smile,
Hides malice,
And every frown, humor.
Confusion is a new addition,
To my collection.
Through ashen glasses,
I see guilt.
I pierce myself with relief.
Maybe I am content.
Now, covered with holes,
I swallow pain,
And bleed out happiness.


Forgiven

I cannot forgive,
What I cannot forget,
Once was told,
When I am old,
I should not regret.
Regressed to chasing footsteps,
Imagined in the shore,
The hungry waves,
Mold the path I've craved,
ā€˜Till I am no more.
Heedless to how bright the day,
It will return to dusk,
Begin again,
Just to end,
It is not enough.
Waiting while you lie,
In the bed you lied in,
You made it,
Suffocate in it,
We cannot be friends.
Going through these cycles,
I gave up a lot,
Feeling depraved,
I forgave, I forgave,
Then I forgot.


Caged

I fold memories,
Away in empty drawers.
My mind wonders what it,
Would be like to wander,
But I forget.
Is this it?
Life eludes me.
Rainbows die in my mouth.
Sunshine cries,
At the sight of me.
Mastering malevolence,
One breath at a time,
And I think it's catching.
Failure is my best friend,
Ever present,
Never asked for.
Why is it so easy,
To destroy everything,
That it takes years to build?
Is this guilt?
Knocking at my soul,
Thereā€™s a delivery,
I open it up,
And to my surprise,
Itā€™s nothing.
Well that's not very...
Surprising.


Forgotten

Where is a lies life spent?
Inside the truth of the ignorant.

Strung together to mean less than words,
I do not doubt your lies,
Falling fast through teeth of glass,
But still, I take what you supply.

Incorrect in my reflection,
For what it all might mean,
Immaturity questions your purity,
And you remain unclean.

Shadows of who you once were,
Tread the waters in my head,
Assume the position of submission,
I did not make this bed.

You breathe and contradictions,
Follow in your wake,
Spouting lies of compromise,
Should mercy always ache?


Shine

There's an ache I can't feel, it almost shines,
But shine is not a feeling.
I can't see it, I feel it reflecting,
Something,
Dark. Deep. Hollow.
Nonsense.
Am I the feeling?
That doesn't sound right.
Sound?
Is that it? Do I hear it?
It feels loud,
It leaves a bitter...
Taste?
The taste is colorless.
Not really bitter.
Not really there.
Itā€™s painfully painless.
It defies logic.
I feel it burst,
Erupt,
From the core of
Something,
Nothing.
People don't erupt.
Or do they?
Spouting from the top of my head,
It has a mind of its own,
Does that make it real?
It smiles, I hate it, it owns me.
Grasping at it I miss,
Again.
It doesn't feel like...
Anything.
Does that mean itā€™s not there?
Is ā€œrealā€ something that
Always slips through
The cracks of reality?
I am what you made me,
You made nothing.
Repent, repress, move on, regress.
Regret.
I feel nothing,
Something...
Meant to always elude me.
It hurts.
But hurt is not a feeling.


Lielluby

Destroy me to sleep,
I find solace in this bed,
Smelling of,
Stolen dreams and deception,
Toxic tales paint a picture,
And I, through blind eyes,
Patiently await,
The ending.
Lie me a lullaby,
Maliciously melodic,
Resonating beneath my mind,
Supplying me with images,
Meant to subdue while I,
Descend into my,
Silent slumber,
Smiling as I await,
The end.


Feel

Happiness is brief, pain is over whelming,
Sadness claims the life doomed to give in,
Despair bleeds before the wound is made,
Hatred cuts deep a laughs in your face,

Is the coldness outside or emanating from within?
Hollow, screams the mind,
Empty, screams the eyes,
Patients, screams the heart,
The mouth stares blankly and dies, on false words.


My take on "Roses are red"

Roses are asleep, and the violets have lied,
I'm green with envy and your red by my side.
Guns are cold, and knives feel no remorse,
Throats turn purple, with the right amount of force.
Betrayal is hard, revenge is empty,
...But a lie is a lie, and evil is tempting.
Eyes are closed, and I am loaded,
Roses released, and we both exploded.


Stability

Walls within walls, the minds deception,
Security blanket, with no true protection.

Comfort where the heart cannot dwell,
A created delusion, my personal hell.

A tragic defeat for my indecision,
Built to shelter, instead imprisons.

Location, location... I think I shall roam,
A house does not always make a home.


Float

When stale thoughts take wings,
Not yet knowing how to fly,
But have a reason to imagine,
Soaring through empty skies,
And landing in barren trees,
Knowing they have to rise,
To search for a mountain,
That is truly,
Majestic.


Negativity

My recollection of happier times,
Are few and far between,
Look down instead of up,
The grass is never green.
Nor is there magic in the air,
Or smiles in the heart,
Look under a books cover, judge,
Then tear the pages apart.

Crying a river isn't possible,
But if you can I hope you drown.
Turn over a new leaf,
Look up instead of down.
But... promises are empty,
And no one can ever change,
Everyone else is looking,
For another to take the blame.

Freedom is a lie, justice assumed,
Nothing is priceless, everyone is doomed.
Love isn't a gift and laughter is fake,
Sanity is a dream, only had by mistake.
Laws aren't made to be broken,
No one will ever belong,
And the only thing people are right about,
Is everyone is always wrong.


Defective

Count your words carefully,
Flowing out of your mouth,
Vying to fill the cup, half empty,
Instead, left it teeming with stupidity,
Dismayed that you hold my tongue,
To your standards.

Brandishing blades left drenched,
Indifference seeping through,
Allies left trembling in your wake,
Allowing crimson tones to provide,
Tongue shaped stab wounds,
You will regret.

Painting pristine chapels of ignorance,
Art pushed past teeth only to be,
Destroyed by idle lips, inspired,
Drawing lines in a desolate mind,
Color rising, cheek cut of stone,
Beauty sucked dry.


ClichƩ

Seeping through the open wounds,
I have long denied.
Creeping underneath my skin,
Scratching at a sigh.

Cannot put a finger on,
That which is unseen.
And no clichƩs can convey,
What I really mean.

Gasping for the tainted air,
Digging through my soul.
Time cannot heal my wounds if...
They consume me whole.

Caught under the thinnest skin,
Splintered into doubt,
If everything can get in,
Why can't I get out?


Muse

I cannot write tonight.
My muse has set sail,
And is rather adulterous,
Coming and going,
With whomever... pleases.
I guess my mind is not as,
Stimulating as hands,
Rapt with keyboard strokes,
Wrapped with happiness,
And beauty.
And I do not know those
In the biblical sense.
I can only drag smiles up
If used in past tense,
And the tone of,
My pencil to the paper,
Always left her angered and empty.
Longing to be spent,
On something worthwhile.
My mind illuminates me,
And leaves others fleeing,
Mortified at the thought,
That my thoughts,
Can shine with such darkness.
Looking like honey,
But tasting like filth,
And that will leave no one sated.
In the past I'd smile,
And she would run to me,
For more disappointment.
I think she is gone,
This time for good.
Across waters I dare not tread,
Because I might at last,
Find happiness.


Help

Faded whispers flowing like tears,
Into ears that would rather bleed,
Than to bare the pain,
Of knowing what it means

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