Wrinkled
- Reads 1,354
- Votes 31
- Parts 1
We Grow Up Fast, Leaving Too Much Behind,
What Do Our Parents Want When They Grow Old ?
Its A Poem Depicting Lives Of Our Old Parents & Speaks Of Their Needs In This Phase Of Their Life.
All Rights Reserved
#12
wait
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Wave (Book 2)
I had survived the first. That was then; this is now. The blindfold of so many pills slowly died away and first though my finger then my head, a passion, a hurt and a need filled me as every moment was consumed with words; every breath with wisps of ink. But they were not all captured and somewhere in the deep abyss of living, lies the unspoken, almost unfelt feelings of decades in months. This is the half-empty account off all those nights from December through into the new year and the end of March. ...I pains me to share it. But it also makes it just not my problem anymore and that is something I long for- freedom and peace. Please note that all grammatical and linguistic, as well as those in punctuation and spelling or placing of words were intentional. If you LIKE this and want me to write a commentary on each poem and picture (as in my previous collection Apfel), please show me in comments and votes :) PLEASE DO NOT COPY any of the poetry or pictures.Complete
Thoughts of a Juvenile
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.Complete
Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink
And I'd rage at the monsters, But that's the task of fools, Who cannot bring themselves to know, Monsters are humans' tools... I write poems like this, just usually longer...feel free to give some of them a read:)Complete
sunsets after dark. | poetry collection
for the ones that were told they were either "too much" or "not enough" for someone to stay. You will always be and have been enough. a collection of short and long poems and occasional updates. "Sorrys are just something you say to avoid doing anything different or better." - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐄𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, Sunyi Dean ‼️𝐓𝐖‼️ contains hard topics including a mention of SA & SH. Amongst other things. I am a poet I write what I think. I write what I love, hate, and everything in between. I am weakest in my writing if you don't enjoy it that is not my problem. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 | 1/1/23 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 | 4th in poetry 6th in poetrycollection 10th in suicideprevention 1st in vending 5th in poem 7th in shortpoem 4th in venting 3rd in rants .♡︎.![[p o e t r y]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/148536872-256-k912257.jpg)
[p o e t r y]
***PSA- PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ MY MOST RECENT ADDITIONS TO THIS POETRY SAGA. I've been writing in this poetry journal since 2016 and they do get progressively better and more insightful.*** thank you carry on: These poems contain snippets of my life and my strongest emotions. Here I have opened my soul up to be read... Lastly, this volume is full; however, if you wish to read more, my 2nd poetry volume is ongoing and accessibleComplete
Tidal waves
Poems of my past and how I was feeling at the time. It's my therapy as well as my momentum of how far I've come. Plus shows really struggles with death, love, abandonment and all sorts as it's been written from how I viewed this in that timeComplete
Petals full of thought
All my thoughts in jumbled up words, scrambled and mixed stanzas, Slightly dusted in deep mindful thinking that keeps me up at 4 am watching the sun rise Trigger warning some have to do with Depression,Self harm, eating disorders,and the Dark truths that lie beyond the silver lining of a smile and what those around you show and keep insideComplete
𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
poems from within. ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ Note: my poem styles vary a lot, so some may rhyme and others no. Feel free to skip those you don't like. The poems aren't sequels to each other. There might be spoken word and such. Some poems are lowercase intended, others are not. The poems are me. It took a tremendous amount of courage to publish these, so thank you to those who have encouraged me, and please think about what you comment, if someone does happen to read this shat. And just remember: I love you. ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ started: july 30th, 2020 ended: april 5th, 2021Complete
I had survived the first. That was then; this is now. The blindfold of so many pills slowly died away and first though my finger then my head, a passion, a hurt and a need filled me as every moment was consumed with words; every breath with wisps of ink. But they were not all captured and somewhere in the deep abyss of living, lies the unspoken, almost unfelt feelings of decades in months. This is the half-empty account off all those nights from December through into the new year and the end of March. ...I pains me to share it. But it also makes it just not my problem anymore and that is something I long for- freedom and peace. Please note that all grammatical and linguistic, as well as those in punctuation and spelling or placing of words were intentional. If you LIKE this and want me to write a commentary on each poem and picture (as in my previous collection Apfel), please show me in comments and votes :) PLEASE DO NOT COPY any of the poetry or pictures.
More detailsContent Guidelines