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poetry - maybe?


strangerthanfiction

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I'm only going to post a few to start with, until I know that this is not going to fail epically, but I love to write poetry, (and the only thread I see as yet is solely keteks, which are fun but not my main focus) and I always want feedback - the problem being that I rarely have a chance to ask people I know in real life for that feedback. Assuming I get a response, I'll post more - and be happy to give constructive feedback on other people's poetry as well. 

Spoiler

Once

I told you once that I’d walk
To Hell if you were there.

I told you when I took a blade
And held it to my wrist.

I told you many times that I’d never
Betray you, my dearest friend.

It never occurred to me;
You did not say the same. 

You told me once that I
Was the best friend you’d ever had.

You told me when you fell in love
And wanted the same for me.

You told me many times
My faults and failings were fine.

But then, there was one fault
You could not ignore.

I told you once that I was going
To march with a rainbow flag.

I told you when I kissed a girl
And things seemed so much clearer.

I told you many times 
I’m the same as I was before.

I thought that you would understand.
I thought you’d love me still.

Oh, how wrong I was.
 

Victory

I tried.
I made the attempt.
I got out of bed and went to class.
It feels like victory.

I failed. 
I slept through my alarms
Because I was up all night, again.
It feels like bitter defeat.

I tried. 
I did my work
For the first time in weeks.
It feels like I can be proud.

I failed – I tried so hard
And fell again.
Maybe this time
I just won’t get up.

I failed.
These words feel like defeat.
But you cannot fail 
Without first having tried.

And ‘I tried’...
These words feel like victory.

 

All That Remains

A voice of peace that acts with violence;
Armies marching inexorably on.
Guns that roar, artillery pounding –
How many more will we lose?
A silence born of stillness creeping;
The dead will not return to life.
What’s lost is lost, the ghosts are weeping –
Voices fade to echoes in time.

Mourning does not help the dead.
War does not solve anything.
A white flag in a crimson sea;
Iridescent ink of a battlefield.
Stars blazing in the night,
Looking down on us in despair.
How many deaths have they seen?
How many more will they witness?

A tempest whirling, fierce with flame,
And all humanity burns within.
Hatred, demons go unfought
As we fight who should be kin.
The storm approaches and will not halt;
Our stay of execution has gone.
Wasted breath, wasted sacrifice
Make our freedom a lie.

No compromise, no retreat.
Those not like us are wrong.
No quarter, no mercy,
No light in the dark;
We are the shadows we fight.
The darkness has come to engulf us all
And the world is cast into night.
The flame has fled, the candle dead
And cold as the wax dries.

Yet as we leave to shut the door,
To abandon the world we’ve lost,
A light reignites to take on the dark,
A single voice to be heard.

A man who reaches a hand in kindness,
Instead of a fist to harm.
Children laughing without concept of hate,
Help without thought of reward.

Lost souls finding what they could not,
Love conquering once again.
Ages and ages, small advances,
And the voice grows stronger still, 
 

None of these are actually all that typical of my style - but I like them all the more for it. The first two was me attempting a contemporary style, but I'm not too sure how it turned out. The last one was me trying to write traditional but not straight rhyming like I usually do. I've written something like 400 poems total - I've been carrying a notebook everywhere since eighth grade. Hah. I like to think I'm pretty decent - opinions?

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