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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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What is poetry?


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.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
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Read books online » Poetry » My Sucky Life by Mike Houtz (best books to read for young adults .TXT) 📖

Book online «My Sucky Life by Mike Houtz (best books to read for young adults .TXT) 📖». Author Mike Houtz



Just Another Scar


Hatred, betrayal, lies at every turn
With the blade I sketch my mark
A brand I leave for those who follow
They may know me
I was the one who suffered,
The one who bled ,
And burned,
And broke,
For those I loved
And for those who I believed loved me
But for all I tried,
The noose did not choke me
The razor did not reap my blood
The river did not drown me
The flames did not consume me
Death would not welcome me in its embrace
I was shunned by the living
And unwelcome among the dead
Depression was my talent
Failure, my hobby
And loneliness my only friend
But I ask for no prayers, no kind words, no thoughtful epitaph
I ask only to be remembered
For others to learn from me
What I do is not noble
Nor attractive
Nor fun
My actions were not born to seek attention
My story does not end with a roar or a whimper
It ends with me
And a whispered message to all
There is a way out
But it doesn’t have to be suicide
I only give up because I wasn’t worth saving to begin with
I tried to fight for my right to life
But sometimes that just isn’t good enough

Living Death


Methodical, Mechanical, Zombie-like
I walk these halls everyday
A husk of former self
Nothing but a shadow
I watch the smiles and laughter around me
They remind me of myself in the past
Introverting
I turn away
They don’t understand
When I am around my “friends”
My “family”
My “peers”
I feel more alone then ever
I avoid them
I should let them help but I can’t
I can’t bear to be torn apart again
Ripped asunder by those closest to me
I’ve walked down the sidewalk and crossed the roads
But no matter how far I travel
I am always reminded
I hate them
The memories
They keep me awake at night
They make me sick to my stomach
They turn me against myself
Make me wonder what if?
What if I hadn’t said anything?
What if I had tried harder?
What if I had thought more?
I see now wondering is pointless
The past is worthless
The present is cruel
The future is untrustworthy
My only solace is the dreams
When I can sleep that is
When I can escape the nightmares of consciousness
If only I didn’t have to experience this constant feeling of emptiness
If I could have some refuge from the memories and idle thoughts
Then I would be happy
But for now I’m trapped
Just one of the walking dead

Drowning in Complacency

I take a deep breath

And draw the blade to my throat again

Then lower it

I can’t         

Not yet at least

Instead I slash it down my arms

I paint the walls with red

And tie ribbons of crimson around my wrists

As I slip into unconsciousness

I feel cold

I feel alone

I feel lost and afraid

But I don’t think I am afraid for myself

I’m afraid for others like me

And others who may become like me

It isn’t fair

No one should go through this

And yet it happens anyway

My cheeks feel wet

And I realize I’m crying

The last thing I think before my eyes close

“Why am I still here?”

It doesn’t matter anymore

I’m lost to the darkness

Whether I wake up an hour from now

Or tomorrow

Or at all

It doesn’t matter anymore

Imprint

Publication Date: 02-15-2013

All Rights Reserved

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