Hey, Little One

To the little girl I used to be,
The little one who’s no longer me.
The one whose skies were never grey,
Who thought people were always here to stay.
A hundred lies you were told,
“stay quiet, you’re too bold”.
Don’t let these lies dim your stars,
Continue being proud of your scars.
Oh sweet sweet child,
You were always so wild.
Your love was so filled with passion,
You dreamed of a Prince and a mansion.
They will always try to tame you,
Put you in a box and blame you.
But you must hold your ground,
For this world you can astound.
You had dreams plenty,
None of them poise or dainty.
You never understood why they tore these apart,
I wish I could tell you, don’t take this to heart.
For child, this world is toxic,
It’s full of traps and chaotic.
It’s but a game of power and control,
They’ll torture you until you’re neck bent on a pole.
Then they will blame you,
Tear you down, shame you.
So tell me why do you care,
For a world that just wants to leave you bare?
Soon you’ll be objectified,
Tied to a character and mummified.
And it won’t matter how much you try,
You’ll always be “too much” of everything until you die.
Soon you’ll understand the politics behind friends,
Realise that sometimes there are no amends.
That people aren’t here for you,
It’s always about what you can do.
People will come and go as they please,
You’ll become but an opportunity to seize.
It’ll break you and make you cry,
And all you can do is question why?
And today as I stand here,
I wish I could protect you from all this fear.
Try to keep you in a house of brass,
Turns out my castle was made of glass.
It pains me that I couldn’t keep you untouched,
Couldn’t stop the pain as your chest you clutched.
So here’s an apology to the little girl I used to be,
The little one who is no longer me.
I’m Samreen Abbas, a college student. I’ve been writing for the longest time but I started publishing my work on my blog a few months ago. I write about anything and everything really, it’s a beautiful escape.

Lost

As I stagger towards these eroded shores,
Fog creeps out from unknown pores.
Phantasms appear and they circle me.
Creatures born of wrath and cruelty.
They cackle out as they get near,
And I fall back in paralyzing fear.
Your specter glows so bright,
The ghostly figures fade from sight.
You spared my life, though yours is lost.
Absolution came at a cost.
Though I am lost perpetually.
I know one day you’ll return to me.

My name is Jesse, I am a writer. I post both poetry and mental health pieces about my own struggles and journey on my blog here: https://oneregulardad.home.blog/

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Sing for me

I’m deaf,
Numb to the words you speak
With an angelic voice,
You are an encrypted soliloquy
Whistles and tongue directed sounds,
A process like growing plants from grounds
The words are formed through the release
Creating dialects and accents of different towns and different streets
Different sounds with different beats
With so many options,
My ears resort to one,
I ingest your voice like a buccaneer with rum.
Quite frankly I tend to be less of self,
but my instincts scream that your voice is meant to sing
for only me.

www.nahlabels.wordpress.com wordpress blogs site
I go by logose. I’ve been writing since I was a teenager and I want to make it a part of my daily life. I write about everything, emotions, my thoughts, events of my life, and each project has it’s own vibe. I want to connect with other writers and build an awesome community

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Nightly

Awakened by silence…
The absence of you lays leaden on my heart.
I sit alone in this room tearing myself apart.
Nothingness is my only friend,
It stays with me until the bitter end.
Nightmares are the byway to see you again.
I need them, I hate them, God please… Amen
Sleepless and anxious I wander the house,
I make for the closet and grab your old blouse.
The smell of you holds me tightly,
Saddened by loss, this is me nightly.

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Too indicative

Everyday seems like the last one
Every hour more boring, disappointing

Sometimes I burst out in laughter
When I’m dreaming of you, night or day
Still here loving me, like you did
Have you ever dared to- remember?

These foolish waves of water rush in
Only to reflect me too often, too real
Where true sadness is carved on my face
I’m feeling lost inside myself, still- missing

I’ve got more than a million questions
But I don’t need all them answered
I just need to know your listening
To these feelings; whispers of my heart

Are you even out there…somewhere?
Why should I even wonder or care anymore?

I start a million one-sided conversations
Replaying how you might answer, or
Have you forgotten me the way,
I can’t forget you or your touches?

All you seem to have left behind with me
Is to be- beset by what dwells within
An unbridled passion of love- rejected
To breathe, be freed and be possessed
Beyond these haunting memories…of- us

Poet of the Light © 2019

I’m just a timeless American poet who’s heart whispers out on parchment before it floats away in a quest to be- delivered. 

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com


Friends Will Have to Go

Friends have gone…….

To reap first you must sow
to teach first you must know
to make beauty out of gold
fire first you must blow
to gain minds you must bow
a kid gave birth to a doe
differences must be known
before your impacts are shown

you sure will live alone
your clothe will have to soak
in heavy rain and in snow
before your name is known
love will never be shown
to you even from your own
your passage will be dark as coal
and your life will be that of a owl
that hunts at night alone
your kin wont care to know
and good friends will have to go…

I am Akinsola oladayo kolade,a poet and the author of sorcerer’s wand,we take in guest post on our site,you are good in poetry and have a story to share why not try us today@ https://lightfeatherstoriesw.home.blog

Our Instagram handle is @akinsola oladayo

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

THE GIRL WHO DREW CIRCLES

On one fine day, a little baby girl was born
Ever since then she drew circles around herself.
Everyone who came under that circle became influenced by her
Whether by her beauty, her joy, her wisdom, hope, kindness, patience, respect, sacrifices. Or in other words, her light
When she was a baby, her circle was vast and magnificent, engulfing everyone that passed by
When she became a toddler, instead of making circles in her mind, she started making real circles around her
Whether by crayons, pencils, sand, gravy, even her mother’s lip stick
Her parents would get quite annoyed by this but they understood what it meant
Everyone in the neighborhood knew about this sweet angelic girl
How could they not? The circle surrounded the neighborhood!
As she grew up, more people entered her circle and attained the light she so selflessly shared
But not everyone came for that purpose.
Some people entered and when she gave them her light, they threw it back at her
Or behind their backs
You’d wonder why that’s so. But you can contemplate, guess and bring forth your arguments,
But the truth remains the same; they are what they are
She stood headstrong and determined in her mission to draw big circles, bigger than anything anyone had ever seen
Until one day, she slipped outside her circle
As people took and took from her, taking bits and bits of it with selfishness, greed, pride and rage
Letting people enter her circle made her circle and therefore her light grow
But as more people came, the more the radius shortened
She endured, and endured, and endured………..
……………..endured she did. For years. No doubt about that
Until one final day, the hand could not grasp the pencil and the sand could not be stroked
The circles returned to her imagination. A figment of it. I suppose that’s what her life became
With every prick of a thorn that came her way, every pain and sadness she faced, the circle retreated and retreated into herself
Till it only included her
There was a rule in making these circles. At this pivotal point, she could choose where the tiny circle would lie
Either in her mind or in her heart
If she chose her heart, there was a great chance that the candle there could be rekindled and the circle could grow back to its former glory
If she chose her mind, there was a 50-50 chance of the fire to rekindle or disappear forever
Sending her to darkness
To inferno. To oblivion
We know what we would hope she would choose
But the heart wrenching fact remains that she should not have had to fall down so deep in her eyes
To have had to make such an agonizing decision

My name is Andale Seaworne. I’m a regular 20 year old Muslim Pakistani girl navigating through life, sharing knowledge and opinion related to different topics in life from basic moral values with relevance to Islamic teachings to travelling, books, food, personal experiences, observations, interpretations and anything that comes to my mind.

https://andaleseaworne.wordpress.com/

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com