[x]

Just a ThoughtYou know the irony of life
is that you have these dreams and ideas
about where you want to be,

but once you get there
you start to dream about where you came from,
where you’ve been.

I suppose that’s part of the circle of our lives,
like the hands of a clock going round.
If only we could wind it back
and return to a time when the dream first began,

we might find
it really wasn’t all that important
to begin with.

Mindless HeartstringsCut my heartstrings
Toy with my mind,
Hide me from the world,
By turning me blind.

Free SoulLiving pure,
Living free,
That is how I want to be.
A wild bird in the trees,
Doing by all means
To survive,
Stay alive.
No matter what, I must not die.
I will take on
Everything and everyone.
I will take on myself,
Force the past off of the shelf.
I will free myself of my mind,
Which once again has left me behind.
And I will finally end this pain,
For once, I will let it rain.
The rain can clean the stains,
And wash away the pains
Of loneliness and suffering,
The product of never-ending falling.
I will let my heart become one
With my soul, now I will run my own show.
I will make bad choices,
I will not listen to the voices,
I can finally breath easy,
Knowing my path is not as windy.
Finally, I can live purely.
Without this past, I can live freely.
This is how I've always wanted to be,
I'm a wild bird in the trees,
Surviving by all means.
And no matter what, I will not die.
Because my soul will always be alive.

Noticing MeEvery night,
I cry myself to sleep.
And while I sleep,
I dream.

I dream that I’ll be noticed,
Not shut off in a cage,
I dream that I’m full of joy,
Not full of rage.

But when I wake up,
In the morning, hoping,
That my dream was reality,
I find myself not coping.

So I close myself away,
And I listen to sad songs,
And I’m ignored by all,
All day long.

I call for my mum,
And she answers, but doesn’t reply,
So I bury myself away,
And inside, I cry.

When my friends call for me,
But ignore when I’m there,
I wonder if I should blank them,
But never would I dare.

Maybe I’m too soft,
Unhuman, perhaps.
But if

Poetry On The WallsNobody wants
To hang poetry on their walls
For all
the heavier lines
would fall
and the word soaked walls
would pine
and be pained
like a poets pen does
When a poet's heart rains

The poet starts writing
finding insightful sightings
into the poets own mind
though the feeling
is a lonely one
and the reeling
thoughts knot
and won't come undone
if the words of the poet
are hurt
they will show it
And the world will know
It can't be slowed
To accommodate those
Left behind in a pile
Of wavering words
Either gentle or vile

Words of love
Or words of life
Become something of
A struggle to stifle
The muddled mouth's attempts
To bend a lies rival

Yet

Arms Like CanvasI don't know your name.
Only the hate lines on your wrist,
the story-lines you write there,
the hints everyone has missed.
I'm sorry we've all crushed you,
let your halo fall,
My head hangs here in shame,
as I speak for humanity, for us all.
It's a sick, sad world,
when 15 can be the last year.
When faggot, worthless, and fatass are thrown around like salutations,
as we drown in a sea of hushed prayers and fear.

the stage is set
the lights are lit
if no one comes
get over it
the sound is right
the pose is struck
no promise made
not to suck
watch your step
you may fall
face first
into the brawl
take a seat
not too close
no apologies
for bloody nose
opinions count
but not here
put them all
up your rear
forget everything
you think you know
just shut up
and enjoy the show.

Fairytales"No more glass slippers,
It's time to grow up.
Forget the fairy tales,
The ones you used to love.

No more lying puppets,
Or boys who never age,
It's time to think like an adult,
Where the economy is a cage.

Cinderella's married,
Snow White isn't dead.
Aurora is awake now
Get the thoughts out of your head."

But they all live in castles,
Or happily in another place,
They're kind and gold of heart,
and Beautiful of face.

Is it so bad to remember,
Those who taught us all?
They reminded me when all was bad,
there was always love to call.

They told me to be bold,
to follow only my heart,
And though it's not always wise,
Believe the best in the

A Pencil's Life A Pencil's Life
I sit on the shelf,
Day by day.
I wait for someone to pick me up,
But I don't see anyone coming.
Each week,
new pencils arrive,
and I only get pushed to the back.
It's the 19th of August,
And almost time for school,
It's the time where most pencils get picked,
But I,
No,
I just sit and wait
for another year to go by.
I'm the last one on the shelf,
And it's almost time for school,
But alas,
Someone has picked me up.
They take me home,
And put me away,
So that I am ready for the first day!
I am excited!
I am restless!
I can't wait for tomorrow.
It is finally morning,
And I am ready,
to take on what comes at me.
I was sharp,
But now I'm dull.
I can't wait for the next day to come.
Once I'm sharpened,
I'm ready to go,
Ready to take on more challenges.

Only Then Do I Remember YouOnly the dreams, the stories…
They come in flashes, little spurts from time to time…
Only then do I remember.
When the songs of your favorite artists come to ear,
Those lyrics come to mind,
Those memories flash right back.
Only when your name comes up,
Or the pictures reappear.
Only when my mind wanders,
Most often seldom and random,
To times and places long forgotten,
Only then do I remember.
Only then do I remember you.

runrun and run and run
until the day is done
you cannot overcome
the setting of the sun
but when the world's away
and when the mice do play
then you and I will stay
away for ever and a day.
so run with me and run
until we see the sun
away from the ravage of time
until you are with me and mine

To pierce the veil of nightA weary worn traveler strung out from miles of life’s highway stream
I am an unwilling an endless sojourner racing blindly toward the veil of night, a chance to dream. Adrift in the surreal tunnel-visioned plane of nascent sleep, I lay down, a dog-tired sailor upon the lissome luxury of satin sheet.

Pestiferous feelings of loneliness fervidly plague weighing an already heavy mind, as dreams whisk me away on yet another journey of a different kind. Now lavishly adorned in the velvet cloak of night, I embark a swift winged spirit upon unconscious flight.

Paroxysms of longing grow ardent with each passing night, as my hearts appetenc

Acheyep yep the veil is us
yet yet they fail the trust
next step betrayal is dust
next says the cable is cut

PolarThere are days when I want to
shout;
scream with the might of the world and
run
until I can no longer feel my legs.
Days where I want to make
a miracle,
or go on a life-changing journey;
create memories that I will
someday tell my children about.
These are the days
when the world is infinite
and nothing is impossible.

However, there are some days
that I feel nothing,
and there is no greater urge in the day
than to lay down,
curl up in a ball,
and simply
breathe.

Her Name is Misery.I saw a girl today with red marks on her arms,
that match the scars on mine.
I asked her for a spare story,
she laughed and said, "I'm fine".

I saw her waver,
I saw her smile falter a bit.
She needed friendship,
but didn't know what to make of it.

So I sat there,
In a crowded room of two.
I listened to her raindrops,
and her stories of people so cruel.

Now, I chronicle her,
so you all can see.
Her tale of lonely sunlight,
and how cold this world can be.

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More from ~HyperFroggy46

There Was A GirlThere was a girl, maybe 3 or 4 years old
And she didn't understand how real this world was.
This girl lived life happily, until one day.
One day, her daddy left her
And her sister.
And her mommy.
She watched him turn his back.
And all she heard from him was
"I give up. I can't handle you crazies anymore."
Her mommy cried.
Her family cried.
Heck, that little girl cried too.
But not because he left, no.
Because she thought it was her fault.
She thought she hurt everybody.
Was it because she didn't like her daddy?
Is that why everyone was sad?
She lived life like that for awhile.
Thinking she caused pain for others.
She was qu

Silly NotionsAt times, I don't much understand.

The world is so very fast

How is it possible to keep track.

Then again, you come to me

And find the guts to say

You don't very much like me.

I don't very much care

It's funny how

You think I might care

I do care, to some extent,

About you, that is.

Why come up with such a notion?

Don't I try to be nice and considerate?

So what if I'm different, isn't everybody?

Do I need an excuse to voice my views?

This is who I am, I'm already made, no need for extra clay.

I have no need for your silly notions.

What? Please, don't roll those eyes.

Because those who do that,

Just can't face the harsh real

Like Any...Normal Day?Arthur was making his way through the International School of Worlds. He had a pile of history books that Veronique had forgotten to return to the library.

"Oh dear...it's another one of THOSE days..." Arthur grumbled to himself, not paying attention to where he was walking to. He knew the halls of the school like the back of his hand, usually dodging the other walking nations. However, this time, he crashed into someone out of uniform.

Rubbing his head, he asked in a fury
"Excuse ME, but watch where YOU are going...Why aren't you in uniform? Do you know I am school president? I can get you detention.

The young girl bowed furiously in the

Sunburnt Tomatoes: Chapter 3It was raining.
She hated the rain.

"Why does it have to rain today out of all days?"

Maria looked out her large window to the garden. The roses weren't shining as they usually were when the sun shined. She left her room, her dress dragging at the tail, for breakfast. She rushed to the kitchen, but she bumped into someone as she made her way.

"Oops sorry-ah, I am terribly sorry, your holiness..."

She bumped into the current Pope at the time, Pope Clement VII. He was a stoic man, his face pointy looking. His long beard was ragged and tangled and gray, and his nose looked as if it was going to point an eye out. He was a Medici, the most po

A Little HopeIt flickered my way.
Like a little piece of hope.
Hello hope.
How are you?
Will you help me?
It flickered a yes.
And I followed it.
Out of the dark labyrinth that 'was' my mind.
I was so young.
It's funny.
Looking that far back.
I wonder what that light was really doing there.
Was it there to save another lost soul?
I was lost.
But was I lost enough?
Ha.
It makes me laugh now.
The thought, I mean.
Hope made its way down the long, dark corridors.
Dusty corners.
Cobwebs for drapery.
All of this.
In my...head.
Hope floated along.
It ignored all of this.
As it passed
Cobwebs became silver.
Dust was swept away
So window

Sunburnt Tomatoes: Chapter 1A knock at the door startled the young nations.

Lovino was cooking a pot of angel bow pasta while his brother waited eagerly at the counter. The two boys, barely adults, owned a large home in the middle of their nation. North and South Italy were recently freed from their superiors, but still were somewhat subordinates to the stronger countries. Though young, they understood the responsibilities of being a nation...not to it's full capacity, of course, but still nonetheless capable of taking care of themselves.

"Yo, Feli, get the door, will ya? Trying to cook us some dinner!"
"Ah, but fratello, I'm so tired! I can't function on an empty st

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Submitted: March 2, 2011
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Ideas

by ~HyperFroggy46, Mar 2, 2011, 5:17:25 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word

It crawls up my spine.
Through every vertebrae I can feel it.
One, two, three, it went through.
This thing that crawls up my spine.
It rests.
Right where my neck is.
It sits there.
Making the little hairs stand on end.
Does it really have this much control.
It continues through the back of my neck.
It drills into my skull.
Making one small hole.
Big enough that it can fit itself through.
These monosyllables, these words
Cannot express it.
This, this,
It.
It courses through my brain.
Swimming through all my thoughts.
Until It lodges itself somewhere
In the soft tissues of my mind.
And then.
It works.
This wonderful thing we call an idea.
One, two, three more come.
Up my spine,
Through every vertebrae,
Resting at my neck,
Making the small hairs stand,
One, two, three more,
Drill holes my skull,
Courses through my brain,
Swimming in my thoughts,
And they all take their place,
In the vast web that is my mind.
Taking a corner there, and a corner here,
And they work.
These 'its,' these ideas.
That crawl up my spine,
Like one, two, and three.

Ideasby ~HyperFroggy46

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word

©2011-2013 ~HyperFroggy46

Just doing some slam poetry before I start writing again. a nice warm-up. Nice to see that you guys missed me! I missed you too! I'll start writing again when I finally have the time!!!

!DarkSenseiGirl Mar 6, 2011

Awesome!

Reply

~HyperFroggy46 Mar 6, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Gracias, DSG. I haven't heard much from you! Busy, huh?

Reply

!DarkSenseiGirl Mar 14, 2011

De nada!

_{Yeah, busy life is busy. How 'bout you, dear?}

Reply

~HyperFroggy46 Mar 14, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Busy life is indeed busy. I still need to update! -sniffles-

Reply

!DarkSenseiGirl Mar 24, 2011

Oh, there there, dear~

An update would be nice, but don't stress your life, 'kay?

Reply

~HyperFroggy46 Mar 25, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

WHY HAVE I ABANDONED YOU, SUNBURNT TOMATOES??

Reply

~EnthusiasticArtist Mar 4, 2011 Student Writer

i love this it's beautiful poetry is so amazing! I love writing and reading it!

Reply

~HyperFroggy46 Mar 4, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Wow, thank you very much!!!

Reply

~EnthusiasticArtist Mar 4, 2011 Student Writer

ur welcome check out my poems too if u would like

Reply

~synthelle Mar 2, 2011

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