It is the color that fills every unoccupied corner. It’s the color that seeps into your mind when you are alone. When you cry, it’s the color that paints your heart. When you laugh, it’s the color that retreats to its cold home in the shadows. It’s the color that seizes control of you when your alone at night and you hear a floorboard creak. It’s the color of the car that passes you on the highway and makes your heart pound. It’s the color of human nature. It’s not the color of purity.
hoo boy thats some good shit
ur like rlly good at that
Lol, thanks. These are all first tries…
Pick one:
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Purple
Brown
White
Black
Oh, this is actually one of my favorites!
It’s the color of the starry night sky that you whisper under. When you share secrets, it’s the tinge of your breath. It’s the color of his wrinkled shirt that he pulls you against, and when he trails his fingers down your arm, it’s the color he leaves behind. When you gaze into each other’s eyes, it’s the color that compels you to keep looking. It isn’t the color you see when you wake up the next morning, cold and alone.
Long Post
Mine is kind of personal. I was going through a really rough patch in my life, and my small collection of poetry is a result of that. I titled it "The Horsemen of Melancholy" and wrote my pure feelings into poetry. This is the second poem of the booklet, titled "Empty"
Empty
Empty ousts all other feeling,
And leaves one walking bleak and weary
There's nothing inside,
Who I am has died.
I could not have cried,
For I am Empty inside.
Passing through time
My heart gathering rime.
Empty has broken me
And I will never be free…
If you guys are interested, I can upload a video of me reading the rest of "The Horsemen". Or I could just post them.
theres a lot of feeling in that one. you can totally upload them or the video, whatever you feel comfortable doing!
Because a hug
Can't heal a broken heart
Because a hug
Can't fix a world falling apart
And it's great
In theory
But all it really does
Is give you time to put on
A smile
Pretend that it's okay
Let no one
Notice
That you cry anyway
And a hug
Might not be what you need
Instead someone to tell you
That it's okay to cry
And be mad
And let out your whole storm
Because it feels better when it clears
Orange for Luna!
You step outside and it’s the color of the ground. When your hair blows off your shoulders, it’s the color of the breeze. When you smile at your neighbor, it’s the color of their wave. When the cat meows, it’s the color of the dog’s reply. It’s the color that wraps you in warmth and let’s you rest when your tired. It’s the color of cinnamon and ginger. It isn’t the color that remains when you blow the light out of a candle.
hey y'all im new here's one of mine
These words
They rip me apart
and give me
peace
They kill me, strike
me down, pooling blood
like water overflowing
a stream.
I float in that stream
Lazy river at the
Waterpark.
It calms me to
float in that
red river
Roses
The setting sun
my ever-beating
Heart
The pain these
beautiful words
cause me remind me
that I'm not a husk of a person
that I am still
human
Waterfall of
the poetic words
that tumble
inside my mind
creamy
sour
chocolately
cascading
tumult
Of beautiful
black roses
I taste
the words as
I walk
down the hallway
of seventh
grade, bumping into
The people
whose names I
know and
they know mine
but toss
it aside like
a broken
glass. But then
I see
a boy whose
midnight hair
glints under the
harsh glow
of the artificial
lights. He
is new. He
is
perfect
erratic
scribbles
on the
sweet,
bitter
paper of
my life
neat
explosive
silent
vibrance beyond
anything I’ve
ever seen
awkward,
confused,
flawless
notes on a
Violin
I reach
Out to touch
His arm,
His shoulder as
We pass
Each other and
My feet
Go thip-thip-
Thip on
The speckled tile
Of the
Hallway, but I’m
Afraid that
He will explode.
So instead
I pull away
And instantly
Regret it.
When my wavering
Voice finally
Brushes his hand
And my
Shaking words caress
His face,
He does not
Explode, he
Simply ripples, as
If a
Stone were dropped
Into the
Calm waters of
His demeanor
Behind the beautiful,
Lovely, handsome
Mask, he
Too roils with
The poetic
Words that he
Cannot descrive
So instead he
Sets his
Bow to his
Violin and
Transforms his poem
Into music
One day in
The hall
Our eyes meet
For a
Single, perfect, harmonic
Second. His
Are melty, luxurious
Liquid, enveloping
Me and pulling
Me down
Into their depths.
My eyes
Are probably filled
with pain
They too reach
Out to
Take him and
Pull him
Closer to me
My eyes
Are deep wells
Holding all
Of my sorrow
Deep within
The contact breaks
And we
Both
Move
on
sorry it didn't paste in poem form so now it's a paragraph
yall these are all really good
yall these are all really good
thank you
are you talking to me?
yeah! and cammie's color exercise too! i absolutely love this discussion, cos u guys are all really good at this
Because a hug
Can't heal a broken heart
Because a hug
Can't fix a world falling apart
And it's great
In theory
But all it really does
Is give you time to put on
A smile
Pretend that it's okay
Let no one
Notice
That you cry anyway
And a hug
Might not be what you need
Instead someone to tell you
That it's okay to cry
And be mad
And let out your whole storm
Because it feels better when it clears
i really like this one because
TONS
of people think that hugs fix everything and in fact make me cry more
Most of my poems I write when I'm feeling in a bad mood ._.
Now looking through, I don't really have a lot of happy ones lol
That or the poems I write are about one of my creatures
i write em when im feeling a lot of strong emotions, which usually ends up being when im sad or angry lol i think i have happy ones somewhere
I love everyone's! Do y'all want a new color?
Pick one:
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Purple
Brown
White
Black
I wrote a poem about being Bored once
Boredom
It comes it goes
Will it stay will it go
It’s hard to say you know
Sometimes you’ll sit and twiddle your thumbs
Or sit and bang upon a drum
You’ll try to lick your elbow and nose
Or even try to chew your toes
It sounds disgusting I know
But anything goes
When Boredom strikes
You might pick on the little tikes
You’ll even brake all their bikes
You might read a book or two
Then sit and yell “There’s nothing to do!”
You’ll eat and yell sit, maybe break a chair
But boredom doesn't care
Boredom stays and what does he do
He watches all the things you do
While you holar and twiddle and brake and chew
He looks at the screen, stuck like glue
He’ll turn it off after an hour or two
Then sit and say, “I’ve got nothing to do.
