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  • badpoetry 1w

    Empty Rooms

    Those empty rooms
    Yawning and moaning
    Over hollowness,
    Cold and dark,
    Waiting to be filled
    With its peers.
    Those empty rooms
    Staring blankly
    Out of windows
    At the pink roses
    And yellow chrysanthemums,
    Their shredded petals
    Adorning the dry winter grass.
    Those empty rooms
    Are quiet
    But chaotic inside,
    Howling in silence,
    The echo reverberating
    In its off white walls
    But nobody heard,
    The voice died inside,
    Ripped the ceiling apart,
    But no one saw
    It faded into a dark sight,
    Curtained by sparkling stars.
    And I wonder
    How long will this
    Emptiness reside?
    Forever or
    Just a matter of time?
    Those empty rooms
    Are everywhere.
    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 1w

    What if I was a man instead of being a woman?
    Would you still put me through this massacre?
    Would you still chase me like an old hound
    For the meatloaf that I borrowed from you?



    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 1w

    The whispers
    Of the demons
    Are stronger
    Tonight.
    Their buzz
    Beating against
    My ear drums
    Like dynamite,
    Exploding
    The thoughts,
    To cave
    Into memories
    Of yesterday.
    And here I lay,
    Quiet,
    Surrendering
    To their outrage
    Tonight.

    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 1w

    Seasons changes
    So do hearts,
    Winter snow melts
    To pave spring's path.
    I'm the only one here
    Who is frozen in time
    Can neither fast forward
    Nor rewind.
    I'm the only one here
    Who is frozen in time.
    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 1w

    What the fuck am I doing here on earth?
    Am I even a human?
    Wait! I feel like an alien.
    Do you feel too?


    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 2w

    She burried her tears
    Into the grave of
    Hollow laughters.
    They thought
    She was born
    Out of sunshine
    But she was born
    Out of a forlorn night.
    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 2w

    The Muser

    Things that
    I burried
    Deep in my heart
    Are no more mine.
    They came
    In stealthy footsteps,
    In the dark hour,
    Conquered the place
    Without a trace.
    I was rumbled
    Like a page,
    And they tried
    To put me
    In a cage
    Of my own
    Imagination.
    I was denied,
    The freedom that
    They all enjoyed.
    And now I'm a muser
    With a dead soul.
    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 3w

    Lost

    Have you ever been
    In a jungle
    And lost your way out?
    You wandered awhile
    And dipped all your hopes
    Under the shadow
    Of tall meadows.
    I've been. I'm still.
    Don't ask me
    How it feels?
    For no human possesses
    The power to transmit feelings.


    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 4w

    Story of a Dying Plant

    What did a dying plant tell you?
    The story of how one winter
    All its leaves fell away,
    Promising to replenish with new one day.
    Or the story of arrogant spring,
    Denying to bring
    Its shredded leaves back.
    Or the story of how in hot summer
    The sun burnt its naked body,
    Black and grey.
    Or the story of gusty monsoon storms
    Thrashing its limbs apart torn;
    It stood in the rain, silent,
    Mourning in vain, nobody heard.
    With little life left,
    It stood like a concrete pillar now,
    Hard and hollow.
    What did a dying plant tell you?
    Did you hear?
    Or you couldn't understand clear?


    ©badpoetry

  • badpoetry 5w

    You can see
    Those scars on my face
    But how would you
    See the scars on my mind?
    Those bruises that's been
    Bleeding day and night
    Leaving me exhausted at times
    Even in the morning light.



    ©badpoetry