The first time I wrote this, it was way better and slightly less dark, but I think I pressed the wrong button and it got reset. So we get this mess instead:

~~~~~~~~~~

I stand at the edge of the water

Terrified 

Yet mesmerised

By what lies underneath 

No one's left to see or speak

Just silence here

And the gentle lapping of those dark waves

Mere centimetres away from my feet

I stare, thoughts and logic whisked away

By those cold ebbs and currents 

They lick at a toe, then crawl up to my heels

My ankles tickle as the water starts to glisten 

Lit by a peaking sun rising through the sky 

Dawn breaks but it's too late

Legs are slowly swallowed up

Shoulders disappeared

It hurts to breath

But mouth stays shut

There's no to hear me anyway

storybook friends

Why is it that the morning star 

Gets all the clout, captures so much attention?

Are not all stars beautiful?

Why must we elevate one to highest,

Brightest, most beautiful?

Before snatching them from the sky?

Just because he shines the brightest,

Wasn't he just born that way?

What did he do to deserve

Such attention or scrutiny, for that matter?

Why can't we appreciate all the stars,

For existing and shining bright;

Yet still be wary of elevating some

Above the others, as to love them all, equally? 

*dons beret and grabs notebook* This began as a childish acrostic poem, and ended as a professional masterpeice. Enjoy this amazing work of art.

Strawberries: an acrostic poem with an excess of parentheses

Sweet (yep)

Tart (sometimes)

Red (or pink)

Awesome (depending on your tastes)

White (on the inside)

Berry (jk not really)

Excellent (see “A”)

Rad (um… yeah)

Radish (the colors are the same? also I’m out of ideas)
Yum (for me at least)

Always following the rules,

Trying to keep my giraffe head down;

I don't want to be special--

That's simply not me;

Let your hollow words of "genius" 

"Prodigy" "Intresting kid" fall away

And look at the real me; 

I'm just a house of cards

Built up pretty for everyone to see;

It may look cool on the outside

But it's all empty air on the inside;

At the slightest breeze you'll see

I'm not what you think I seem to be.

I'm just an unstable kid,

Nothing outside of troubled

Mediocrity.

Is this the Middle?

This unbearable waiting?

The featureless expanse

that binds me;

Regardless the size of the

steps I take,

The speed at which I take

them. 

This agonizing place of limbo,

is this the Middle? 

I think I've been on this thread, like, once, but I recently did a poetry portfolio project (hehe alliteration) for schoola and i suppose I'll share some of mine.

This first one isn't actually part of the portfolio, I just wrote it in like 1 minute. The backstory is I had just sent my friend a video of my dog attempting to eat a firefly.

fly high in the sky, my little firefly,

glow bright among the stars and know

that down here on the ground,

a person and dog are standing by

for when you at last come down. 

I feel

As if I'm slowly dying 

Fading

Life force sapped away

By all

These responsibilities 

I don't think

I can continue on any farther

With only greys

To furnish my world

I see the grass

Swaying in a sour wind

Carrying ashes

In its foul, sad notes  

With darkness creeping

Dark clouds hang deep 

And all the lines blend

Would it help if I weren't alone? 

Movement

~~~~~ 

I adore movement.

Whether it be sitting shotgun 

And watching the world dash by,

Or pumping my ballerina legs

And feeling my surroundings swim

To and fro' as I swing.

I love the feeling of muscles and warmth 

Beneath me, as hooves drum out their familiar beat;

I run for the rush of wind and scenery,

And can't get enough of falling, tumbling through space.

I only feel disappointment when

The car stops

The pirouette draws to a close 

Recess ends and class resumes,

The ride is over,

The song has ended,

The world crashes to a halt as I land.

And again I long for the world to return to its bristling

So I can escape to a world where nothing really matters;

Because there everything moves too quick to matter.

At the top of it all, I stand.

But it seems like something less than I'd expected.

Mountains overseeing the world always looked so short;

Once you've to stood atop the summit,

Seeing the others that climb up about you sides.

The world felt so large, yet at the same time underwhelming.

I suppose my expectations were too much.

And when you see the top of the world of people

Things are no different, you've fought you way up a hierarchy of citizens,

You'll see the same: Disappointment.

Things are dirtier than their glittering gilded front, and you wonder why

You stepped atop so many others, just to get to this mess of a peak.

What was it all for? Who said they were fit for the job? Where are my answers?

Alas, I haven't any yet.

No prize for my lofty anticipations.

I wonder if it's something wrong with me;

Maybe I'm too young.

Maybe I just think too small,

Can't see or comprehend the big-picture.

But sometimes I wonder if those high-up, unachievable things

Just aren't all they're cracked out to be...

Maybe. 

stars fall and so do i

into glimmering seas 

of purples and blues

and darks and lights 

but mostly darks 'cause

night swallowed us all

but that doesn't matter

because colours spill

inside by head far from

the cold water and fallen stars

that sit, rippled by waves

all of it is magical

in a beautiful sad

broken way that

makes me want to cry

and laugh and gawk

but i do nothing

because im still falling

and nothing matters yet 

~~~~~~~~~~

I tried out a little bit of a different style. What do you think?

What's the difference

between suffocating and drowning?

What do you mean

when you insist I hold on?

Since when has it been 

any of your business

whether I float or sink down?

Do you really think it's my fault I let go?

That I had a choice between falling or not? 

Why do you assume I have a net,

a web of support just because some people do?

How can you blame me for stilling my limbs,

When my muscles ache, my heart feels like it'll burst

And it hurts so darn much to breath.

I have nothing.

I'm not in a position I ever will gain more.

You would never

understand. 

Am I selfish?

Yes.

Am I a cynic?

Sure.

Am I alone?

Of course. 

But you're different,

So what could you

Possibly ever 

understand?

~~~~~~~~~~

This is my mental response to something I saw. I didn't start it, and wasn't actually involved, but I can definitely relate to how I imagine the other person felt. It's sort of like things you wish you'd said but never got the proper chance too, plus it would've made you sound sort of terrible anyway?