A poem about my derealization/depersonalization. The feeling of being stuck in a mental state and longing for a breath of fresh air.

This poem is about the attitude I have encountered in art spaces on X. It’s depiction of art culture and a guide to being unforgettable.

Here they come. here they come in shiny black talons. Long satin silk from the deepest blue and the darkest forever. And eyes like infinite abyss. Be careful kids. For if you stare too long into the abyss The abyss stares back. Here they come. Anonymity is a blessing You

A quiet so simple it shall be mistaken for death. i thought of this rather quickly and easily. if you wish to continue, to read about the longing silence, go ahead. :)

Note: This poem celebrates the bond between a father and his child. It shows how a dad’s love, guidance, and example can inspire his son to grow into the “best kid ever.” The words highlight not only the child’s bright spirit but also the father’s lasting influence, reminding us that the greatest gift a parent can give is inspiration.

The poem is about myself and someone I knew when I was living in the projects. The views of life in between the lines.

A poem related to personal trauma. It expresses things that i find hard to put into vocal words. Please enjoy!

Have you ever felt alone and unable to connect with anyone? have you felt the crushing weight of the world? well I have until...

A poem, the first part is about a hobo I knew & a day dream of him begging by the river Styx. The later part is a vision of morning star laying on their back under the tree of life as a leaf falls from it.

With beauty sometimes comes grace. The world is a cruel place. Remembering to be humble and kind is the most important thing anyone can pursue to create a better tomorrow for themselves and the future

Poetry Words I write give me back my power when all deep in my heart is broken Somedays I write words created from fear that I could never have spoken When my heart is filled with love the words flow passion in my soul My words flow from paper to all around like a rainbow of love to make Whole!

The penguin king was worshipped by men. In a village not too far from here. He came from a star that fell in the ocean. The first thing he saw was a penguin as he sank to the ocean floor. So he took that form trying his best to fit in. He ate fish and only wanted more. Eventually he ate all the fish he could see. And no penguins would talk to him. He had no penguin friends.

The last day of the inventor He woke up that day. Had a cup of coffee. An egg. Poached. He dressed. Slowly. Not feeling his best. Cold bare feet on the hard wood floor. On the stone step. He made his way down the steps. When out of no where a giant golden owl called his name. He was so startled he lost his footing. He teetered. He tottered. He fell he fell he fell. He never made it to the last step. You’re gonna lay there. Did you feel that? Chill your bones. Did you feel that?? At the bottom of the stairs. You’re gonna lay there. Somebody’s walking over your grave. To this fate you’re a slave. Somebody’s walking over your grave. Did you feel that?? No one’s home. At the bottom of the stairs Chills the bones And you’re gonna lay there Watch yourself stay there Til you’re gone. Til you’re home. Cold as stone. No one’s home. Go Back where you’re from

Poems for you to mull over. I’ll ad more as I get a chance. I have hundreds of them collecting dust.

You can cry alone and shout at the moon, but what’s it to ya? A victim is short of a victory, if he doesn’t choose it. Instead of crying until you fall asleep, profess it in a dream.

The future is yours to decide. Will you rise in love or who you fall in bitterness. Realize your power or be a victim of your own perceptions

I don’t quite remember the first time I felt it That familiar stirring in my chest A sinking feeling in my stomach that warned me I would no longer be getting any rest

This is a poem, that I've written in hopes to 'vent' some. If you feel this way comment below. And just remember to breathe.❤

The silly thoughts of a silly wisp. Might be good most likely bad. A broken mind in a bumpy head. Nevertheless, silly thoughts.

Talking about her pretty brown eyes and how they glow in the sun and how cute she looks when she looks back at me.