10 Posts! YIPEEE LES GOOO! :D

Paint

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

The artist on his pedestal place,

Dabbing his brush in paint,

Sweeping all his worries away.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

A careful mix of colours and hues,

A careful tinge of another shade,

A story that never fades.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

A bleak landscape of monochromes,

So very little tint,

A figure standing all alone.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

Lush green landscapes,

So very simple,

A doorway to escape.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

The artist on his pedestal place,

Painting a scene so lovely,

Whose model is as sweet as honey.

Light & Dark

Light leads darkness, Dark follows light,

Both learned to embrace each other, And listen to each other’s plight.

Light wanted to illuminate the world, Give every corner the warmth of sun, Leave no corner untouched.

Dark wanted to calm the world, And give the peace of night, Give the world peace of mind, from their little trifes.

Light and Dark so different, But their bond was set for sure, Light needs Dark and Dark needs Light; Without this bond, Life couldn’t go on like before.

The Little Bead

We lie in our class, Not really intrigued or puzzled, By the mundane subjects that keep us muddled. Some may admire the beauty that surrounds us; Of the trees swaying in the winds, Of the cherry blossoms that drop, In the never-failing cold wind. The light which comes through our open doors, The light, not brighter than the people we have in store.

We all are specimens alike, But, behind our mask of mischief lies, A little drop or maybe a bead, Filled with sincerity and virtue so sweet. The little drop that burns and shines, In all our hearts it lies.

We are not mindless wanderers, We are not without destination; Some folks can’t understand, The intensity of our situation.

We have a goal, An aim to be great, But some of us haven’t uncovered our little drop, The drop that can seal our fate.

The teachers say we’re a nuisance, How we trouble their conscience; But how they will miss us, Miss our shenanigans; How we will miss each other when we leave, To the calling of our little bead.

Hi! Here's a poem!

Blood on my hands

Her blood is on my hands I don't remember what happened last night All I see is a foggy glow All I hear is a shriek.

Her blood is on my hands I feel a weight on my chest My eyes are flooding I can't stop crying

A stone cold wall is against my back I can see my writings on the walls I see blood on my hands Even if it's not there at all.

I feel so confused and crazed And I'm running into walls So the blood that's on my hands Isn't yours.

I can't hear you Everything's fuzzy I see in black I see in blue On my hands a scarlet hue.

I finally wake from my bed Sweating through my clothes I can't see you I can't see you lying there But there's still blood on my hands Then I see the bruises on my hands

Then I realize With tears in my eyes And a pain in my head That it's all mine.

⚠️ heads-up!

Hilo, this poem's a bit darker than my usual ones -it's a fictional/poetic expression of trauma. So, if it feels too much, pls stop reading and do something silly, like pretend you're a chicken 🐔 💛

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Someone Like You

You're my next-door neighbour, I knew you since we were kids, I gave you six-dollars for your cheesy movies, I do love how you kissed me. Red hair, green eyes and a good taste in tunes, There really isn't someone like you.

I love your little quirks and ballet slippers, I love how you practise the piano even now, Playing Adele on a four-chord loop. I did a cartwheel for you We bought you white and green tees, Ans I bought you pink converse shoes. Red hair, green eyes and my baseball hoodie, There really isn't someone who loves you like me.

The secret hideout, marshmallows on a stick, You smoking a cherry cigarette, Your cat who doesn't go outside, Otis, my doggy boy. Red hair, green eyes, the white dress on you, I love our Soundtrack because it reminds me of you.

I confess I hogged the Spot only to talk to you, Sat on the porch to hear you play, I can't tell you how sad I was, When you lost your mother that way. Your cute little owl dress, Your little 'the Diner' lie, The daisies on your hip, I never want to make you cry. Red hair, green eyes, talking to your mother on a run, I know you drink black coffee, I know you beam like the sun.

Little Libby Loo on prom night, looked like an angel from heaven, And I wanted to punch our good friend Mike. Her loopy cursive on the porch, Marshmallows and CDs, Liz rambling over a lost penny. Dark hair, dark eyes, I'm Wesley, There isn't someone like you, Libby Loo, And now I can say you love me too.

Onwards on the Race of Life

My heart flutters when you’re near, Onward on the race of life; No one knows if you’ll be mine.

Another year passes by, Morning to dusk every time, Onward on the race of life, Umbrella of yours, hiding us from the, Rain of time.

Seas could not match my blue, but Arisen by you in me, your Ruby hues, Thank you for saying that you admired me, Hopefully that lasted and you haven’t forgotten me; An abyss in which I lie, Kindle a fire, so we shall not freeze in the darkness of the night.

I imagine a life with you, then without,

Lest, I lose you or you go on a different route, Onward on the race of life; Velvet you lips are, and your soul an, Esther in my eyes.

You looked at me that day, in your eyes a feeling I could not place; Onward on the race of life; Umbrella in your hand and in your other, mine.

The Thimble of an Elf

I wear a thimble to protect me from blows I can't see the enemy, But I got to fight anyway I suppose.

My thimble's a bit battered Worn down by old wounds I might need to get a new one Till then this will do.

My kingdom depends on me I guess so, Haven't heard from them in many moons.

I fight, waving about a needle I feel the enemy's presence They wonder why I haven't given up hope.

I cut down through a couple of bushes And there are the foes standing tall They don't look all that scary Just a bit tired, that's all.

I recognize them I think I've heard their voices before I take off my thimble Strangely soothed by their song.

They say they're my demons Trying to help me find a better end I believe them For they are my only friends.

They accept me, make me feel safe, So much so, without my thimble I still feel brave.

I don't think I'll go back to the kingdom For the foes are now my friends No matter what someone says I'll stay with them till the end.

A Tale of Tree

I write this as I sit under a tree, It’s beauty, a specimen of nature, you see; It’s flower, so warm and bright, Like the friend who stays with you, On a summer’s night. Its leaves, so dainty and green, Just like a ballerina’s ‘petit’. The way it sways in the wind, so light and sweet, Reminds me of carolers on New Year’s Eve. It has stories left untold, The rings held in the trunks, old. Its branches like a friendly embrace amidst a crowd, Its tender touch to erase all foul. I bid farewell to thee my tree, My tree of tales, A tale of tree.