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  •  14  1  1 hour ago
  • Some parts of my country are still affected by the latest drought. Crop yields have plummeted and water supplies have dwindled to dangerous lows.
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poetry | turns of phrases
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truth seeker . mixer of words
@veritapoetry
#veritapoetry
  • Some parts of my country are still affected by the latest drought. Crop yields have plummeted and water supplies have dwindled to dangerous lows.
    —————————————————————
    poetry | turns of phrases
    —————————————————————
    truth seeker . mixer of words
    @veritapoetry
    #veritapoetry
  •  62  4  1 hour ago
  •  8  1  2 hours ago
  • The way we dream
And make wishes,
Of sweet kisses
And the way someone's flesh presses on ours .
Dug and imprinted with our fingerprints,
And then we misbelieve that we made the purchase .
Of someone's soul and the love in it .
And then we go by the window ,
Dunk and drunk in the disbelief,
Writing our own stories ,
Hoping that wishes come true.
Praying for a dream than a reality.
Like simple human beings.

But when you pray 
and bleed ,
Do you go to the lover 
Or the god!!!?
#amwriting #shakespeare #blackdiaries #typewriter
  • The way we dream
    And make wishes,
    Of sweet kisses
    And the way someone's flesh presses on ours .
    Dug and imprinted with our fingerprints,
    And then we misbelieve that we made the purchase .
    Of someone's soul and the love in it .
    And then we go by the window ,
    Dunk and drunk in the disbelief,
    Writing our own stories ,
    Hoping that wishes come true.
    Praying for a dream than a reality.
    Like simple human beings.

    But when you pray
    and bleed ,
    Do you go to the lover
    Or the god!!!?
    #amwriting #shakespeare #blackdiaries #typewriter
  •  73  5  2 hours ago
  • hotel clocks || #jvhuxley
  • hotel clocks || #jvhuxley
  •  34  3  3 hours ago
  • I dabble in all types of play
Wordplay
Horseplay
Foreplay
.
.
.
#quotes #poems #poetry
  • I dabble in all types of play
    Wordplay
    Horseplay
    Foreplay
    .
    .
    .
    #quotes #poems #poetry
  •  10  4  3 hours ago
  • It was 2003 when I learned I was
a hopeless romantic. Listening to
Only One by Yellowcard for the
first time in my room. On this earth
only eight years and I felt the
curse in my veins when I heard the
emotion in his voice. His crawling
on the floor, his gasping for breath,
screaming his lungs out. Nobody
told me it would be this hard.
Nobody told me it would debilitate
my growth for this long. I looked for
love in other people everlastingly
and I hadn't learned what it was like
to find the love within myself, within
my own skin. I tended to the needs
of others so often that I had missed
the times I could have truly been
patching my own wounds. Forgetting
or unknowing what was bad for me.
Using ten words when I could have
used three. Losing time associating
with what would end abruptly and
leave me with questions unanswered.
Conversations leading to nowhere,
a budding flower without the promise
of beauty. The chains unlinked due to
respect for what I already had. The
2 AM talk with the girl who thought
I hated her because I respected my
fiancee too much to talk to her.
Rejecting the advance of the girl
at the New Year's Eve party because
my girl was ten feet away. The number
of other similar situations I silently
squashed because of my own allegiance
to somebody else. With none to myself.
I'm not the same person I used to be
and for that I am happy, but I can't
help but believe there was so much
time wasted being a person that
breathed in the oxygen of others
when he should have been creating
his own oxygen to breathe. I'm done
wasting my own time. I'm done using
my energy on people who don't
deserve my effort. And, best of all,
I'm done refusing to create a life
from the poetry I create by just
existing and being exactly who I am.
I won't apologize for my poetry. Not
to them, not to you, not to me because I'm
still a hopeless romantic. I'm hopelessly,
recklessly, selfishly romantic with
the version of myself that will exist
in the future.
  • It was 2003 when I learned I was
    a hopeless romantic. Listening to
    Only One by Yellowcard for the
    first time in my room. On this earth
    only eight years and I felt the
    curse in my veins when I heard the
    emotion in his voice. His crawling
    on the floor, his gasping for breath,
    screaming his lungs out. Nobody
    told me it would be this hard.
    Nobody told me it would debilitate
    my growth for this long. I looked for
    love in other people everlastingly
    and I hadn't learned what it was like
    to find the love within myself, within
    my own skin. I tended to the needs
    of others so often that I had missed
    the times I could have truly been
    patching my own wounds. Forgetting
    or unknowing what was bad for me.
    Using ten words when I could have
    used three. Losing time associating
    with what would end abruptly and
    leave me with questions unanswered.
    Conversations leading to nowhere,
    a budding flower without the promise
    of beauty. The chains unlinked due to
    respect for what I already had. The
    2 AM talk with the girl who thought
    I hated her because I respected my
    fiancee too much to talk to her.
    Rejecting the advance of the girl
    at the New Year's Eve party because
    my girl was ten feet away. The number
    of other similar situations I silently
    squashed because of my own allegiance
    to somebody else. With none to myself.
    I'm not the same person I used to be
    and for that I am happy, but I can't
    help but believe there was so much
    time wasted being a person that
    breathed in the oxygen of others
    when he should have been creating
    his own oxygen to breathe. I'm done
    wasting my own time. I'm done using
    my energy on people who don't
    deserve my effort. And, best of all,
    I'm done refusing to create a life
    from the poetry I create by just
    existing and being exactly who I am.
    I won't apologize for my poetry. Not
    to them, not to you, not to me because I'm
    still a hopeless romantic. I'm hopelessly,
    recklessly, selfishly romantic with
    the version of myself that will exist
    in the future.
  •  53  2  4 hours ago
  • you are my answer
  • you are my answer
  •  20  2  4 hours ago
  • 🌸💪🏾🌸 Thank you for being so brave. 🌸 💪🏾🌸
  • 🌸💪🏾🌸 Thank you for being so brave. 🌸 💪🏾🌸
  •  16  2  4 hours ago
  • ◾️love|always|WINS.
  • ◾️love|always|WINS.
  •  24  2  4 hours ago

Top #micropoem Posts

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  • 💔💔
•
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my three books are available worldwide through the link in my bio 🥀
—————————————————
@catarinehancock ☼  #catarinehancock
  • 💔💔

    —————————————————
    my three books are available worldwide through the link in my bio 🥀
    —————————————————
    @catarinehancock#catarinehancock
  •  819  11  9 hours ago
  • Listen
  • Listen
  •  1,949  13  14 hours ago

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  • If it is love, it will stay.
  • If it is love, it will stay.
  •  1,278  9  21 May, 2019

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