Broken Poems
Slipping
by Miranda White
Slipping.
Faster and faster.
Why won't you stay.
You don't need to go any faster.
I can keep up.
Promise me you will wait.
My hand is slipping may we please go slower.
Your hand moving away faster.
Please I want to hold onto you longer.
You're letting me go.
......
getting rid of them
by Aaliyah Time
You've been with me for way too long
your welcome has been over-extended
You are always somehow pissed off at every little thing
You're jealous even though you won't directly say it
You and I never should have been close, none the less mutual
Because people like me and people like you will never get along
We are like oil and water to different mix
too stubborn to ever truly back down
and to even consider the other's words
You twist and turn every argument we have and make me confused, and dizzy inside my head
......
The Broken Angel
by Nirav Khanal
On the dark and gloomy night
Walking down the lonely trail
As if she was destined to fail.
With no clear destination in her mind
Escaping from something
Maybe it’s from her past.
With all the heartbreaks and scars
She wears her beautiful smile
......
The Mirror Cracked
by Ayatullah Nurjati
The cracked mirror in the corner of the room holds the image of a gloomy face. Small shards that bounce faintly, like memories that are hard to escape.
Every crack holds a story, about a wound that is slowly healing. There are tears trapped there, in silence that swallows all sound. In a mirror that is no longer intact, you reflect your fragile self.
But in every broken piece of you that is opened, there is strength in accepting the wound.
You taught me the meaning of sincerity, in your cracks that don't seek perfection. Because life is not about looking beautiful, but accepting cracks as part of grace.
Voice of the Voiceless
by Ayatullah Nurjati
In twilight’s fading glow, a voice stirs unseen,
It is the song of those from shadows gleaned.
They Walk with broken backs, hands worn and bruised,
Society’s edges, abandoned and used.
Is justice but a whispered prayer in the dark?
Or does it stand, a flame, a fierce spark?
To the powers that sleep in golden halls,
Hear now the cry from those who crawl.
......
Slipping
by Miranda White
Slipping.
Faster and faster.
Why won't you stay.
You don't need to go any faster.
I can keep up.
Promise me you will wait.
My hand is slipping may we please go slower.
Your hand moving away faster.
Please I want to hold onto you longer.
You're letting me go.
......
A Dreadful Embrace.
by Hari Krishnan B V
Arousing horridly hatred breeds aching sorrowful grief,
Words massacred every breath down the diaphragm.
Eyes plunge stinging tears down the bloodshot sclera,
Frigid fills with your muffled cries of mellifluous voice.
Limbs turning numb sans hurling hazardous venom,
Crawling to her like a microbe searching its genome.
Our deafening cries engulfed the infirmary chamber,
Overwhelming with misery, weeping angels flew apart.
She gushed blood for in love, hidden spirits envied us,
......
Voice of the Voiceless
by Ayatullah Nurjati
In twilight’s fading glow, a voice stirs unseen,
It is the song of those from shadows gleaned.
They Walk with broken backs, hands worn and bruised,
Society’s edges, abandoned and used.
Is justice but a whispered prayer in the dark?
Or does it stand, a flame, a fierce spark?
To the powers that sleep in golden halls,
Hear now the cry from those who crawl.
......
The Mirror Cracked
by Ayatullah Nurjati
The cracked mirror in the corner of the room holds the image of a gloomy face. Small shards that bounce faintly, like memories that are hard to escape.
Every crack holds a story, about a wound that is slowly healing. There are tears trapped there, in silence that swallows all sound. In a mirror that is no longer intact, you reflect your fragile self.
But in every broken piece of you that is opened, there is strength in accepting the wound.
You taught me the meaning of sincerity, in your cracks that don't seek perfection. Because life is not about looking beautiful, but accepting cracks as part of grace.
Different hearts
by Raven Quigley
What's the difference
Between a beaten heart and a broken heart
One is pushing forward in pain
The other one is dead
