just a poem
some thoughts are better left unsaid,
some thoughts are special enough that i think
if i were to share them to the wrong person
i'd spend my life, trying to get that thought back.
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Simplicity
I'm a simple person,
or, more so;
I like to think I'm a simple person.
You aren't a simple person,
or, more so;
I'm a simple person trying to figure out another.
Your movements,
Your facial expressions,
Your words.
I spend time figuring out,
What every choice you make is all about,
But, I am only to find
That even an individual like me, who is deemed as "smart" and "kind,"
Will never be able to comprehend even a fraction of your mind.
I'm a simple person,
or, more so;
The Screen
Press the one powerful button,
See the shimmering colorful light,
Scroll through the smooth cold surface,
Don’t know what to tap on?
Can’t blame you
Expecting a notification?
Not happening, no not now,
Look at you, what did you hope for?
Trust me there is nothing new to see,
It’s not a party of some kind,
Just some worked off millennials,
Eagerly waiting,
May be a grand celebrity breaking news,
Or some funny vines and tiktok videos
Breaking news!
There is nothing new there,
Inside This Mansion
I missed my alarms and slept in,
I have had people in dreams,
The friendly kind, but weird they existed,
I would rather keep my mind shut,
Than open the doors to my home
My mind is my mansion,
It only becomes a home when I walk in,
Open the doors,
“Give them you heart and trust”
Excuse me what did you say?
My heart and trust?
The purse and luxury is their pursuit,
Not my heart and trust,
The walls protecting my mansion are high up,
I would like to keep that way,
Is it me or the fear talking?
Fragile
Anxiety holds his claws around my neck
Feeling my pulse to perfectly manipulate
One move is all it takes
Happiness once stroke my back
Growing older opens an ominous gate
Life is a struggle at all stakes
Every one of us is fragile like glass
Even the ones with 24/7 sass
Lower, middle or upper class
Glass stays glass
Some shatter, others burst
In the end we all break
8.5, Catastrophe (meaning)
Catastrophe is about how I get angry when I don't mean it. How I say words I don't mean, then regret them later.
That's a lie.
This poem does not have a meaning.
Really nothing has a meaning, if you think about it.
Everything withers and dies eventually.
The strongest rock, the sharpest blade.
The rock will crack and disintegrate.
The blade will rust and crumble.
The mind will rot and tear itself apart.
The only thing that is truly eternal is time.
Time is forever.
Being me
Being me is being in your head 24/7,
Being me is having constant debates with life and death..
Being me is not even being here.. Being me, is Being a watcher, a listener an observer..
Being me is loving the storm and the clouds,
Being me is unbashadly thinking out loud..
Being me is an inability to hold a grudge..
Being me is constantly feeling star-struck..
Being me is being an ocean of possibilities,
Being me is being silent in difficulties.. Being me is clearly not that easy.. Being me is an experiment to revive humanity..
Being me is being on trips with the sun and the sea..
Being me is an overdose of curiosity.. Being me is loving so-so deep, that everything I touch begins to heal..
People Change
Why do people change?
Do they mature?
Or try to fit in?
Maybe they change for somebody.
Somebody they like,
Or somebody who didn't like them
They way they were.
Or maybe people change
Because they don't like themselves
The way they are.
But no matter the reasons,
People change.
And we did.
Life
In early times in your life you were told
Be strong
but gentle
Beatifull
yet humble
Happy
still calm
And smile
Because your worth living
But how
they never told me me
How am I supposed to be them
and im supposed to be me
but I have to still be true to myself
I Try
try isnt worth anything
* * *
Is it normal to feel so many people inside you
and there always there
there all you
just different sides of you
and your all of them
but when you think about them
your confused
and the confused you is confused
Always a argument
the drama queen
the girl who's mean
and there all me
its ok if you think I'm insane
or theres something wrong with my brain
most people think of me as nobody
or just don't think of me
Barter
Hey, can you see these?
These beautiful geese?
I kept them in the light
For them to show their might
I let them fly around
And let them sleep in the mound
They gave me a beautiful gift
And that is their gift
Can you see the gift?
The gift in their beauty
As well as their might
But I lost one thing; do you know what it is?
Before the fall
Pain
Like rust
You confused it for salt
It felt as intense as pleasure
Joy
Like oil
You confused for molasses
It felt like a balm to all your wounds
Love
Like fire
You confused it for candlelight
It felt like you could blow it out
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