What the Unloved feel...
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the very first depressing poem I wrote on quizilla. Sad depressing poem about no one loving me...this was written in 2008, so don't worry, I am over my emo faze!
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unloved
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For every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every person that is consumed by their own thoughts, the derision from the outside world only making it worse. For every soul that was drowning in remorse and anguish on restless nights. For every soul that says I love you in the dark and in the mirror because no one else does. For the floors we would pace while anxiety sunk its teeth into us. For the mirrors that we would break while shame echoed its laugh in our caged walls. For the hearts that would ache while loneliness was the only company. For every moment of pain and solitude in this world that feels too cruel for such young and frail minds.Complet
Madness
Mind is a wonderful thing.. it's something that makes us-humans, different from one another. We all have a nose,a mouth, two hands, two feet, two eyes, one head-it's the mind inside that head that makes a difference. It's the mind that decides our character, it decides our actions, it defines our life,it's our mind that makes us love or hate something or someone. People aren't all bad or all good.. they have a touch of both but it's the mind that tricks us into loving or hating a person. Most of the times we don't actually love a person, we love the image of the person that our mind creates based on our memories with that person & same goes for the hate as well, we have bad memories with a person, we have a bad image of the person which leads to us hating that particular individual. We don't see people for who they actually are, we don't see the world for what it actually is, we merely see the image of it that our mind has created, the world for us is nothing more than an illusion. Our own personal illusion.. What's funny is that no one's ever going to know your illusion-your world as it is for you.. Despite all of the brilliant illusions that our mind creates, mind itself is the greatest creation of the mother nature. Without mind-this great tool, there would've been no cell phones, no television, no books, no music, no love, no hate, no life. nothing! But in reality, the mind is but a twisted yarn of madness. Yet every mind is great in itself. And didn't they say..? "No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness" -with love, Harika
My Other Side
I gathered all of my writings in here. The writing I wrote while everyone is sleeping. These writings are my other side. The other side that no one ever knew.Complet
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.Complet
NOW YOU SEE," THE REAL ME" UNDER MAJOR EDITING
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Deadly Rhymes and Laughing Times VOL I
Short stories turned into poems for the "best of both worlds" experience. I don't relate to most of them but A LOT of people from all around do. Since we can't physically see what people are going through; at least these words are there to comfort them❤️❤️ This blog is dedicated to all of you✨ ACHIEVEMENTS:❤️❤️❤️ 1st Place winner of Poetry Category in Freedom Awards✨✨✨✨ 1st Place Winner of Poetry Category in Blue Rose Awards✨✨✨✨ 2nd Place Winner of Random Category in Wicked Awards✨✨✨✨ Winner of Best Cover in Wicked Awards 3rd Place winner of Poetry Category in Chaos Awards✨✨✨✨ 3rd Place winner of Poetry Category in The Rose Awards✨✨✨✨ A Winner in Poetry Category of EYHO Awards✨✨✨✨ Highest Ranking: #976 in Poetry #524 - 21/8 #338 - 23/8 #243 - 26/8 #220 - 7/9 #104 - 10/9 #98. - 6/11 #81. - 7/11 #68. - 12/11 #57. - 19/11 #46. - 04/12 #FrenchFriesandPopsicleSkiesComplet
For every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every person that is consumed by their own thoughts, the derision from the outside world only making it worse. For every soul that was drowning in remorse and anguish on restless nights. For every soul that says I love you in the dark and in the mirror because no one else does. For the floors we would pace while anxiety sunk its teeth into us. For the mirrors that we would break while shame echoed its laugh in our caged walls. For the hearts that would ache while loneliness was the only company. For every moment of pain and solitude in this world that feels too cruel for such young and frail minds.
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