‘Cause i can't be bad… never was,
Nor will I be!!
I'm just a cubby ; trying to get by,
With the love he found;
True only for him;
Won't ask for more, won't need no more;
A clear day, when he hears her voice,
An awesome night when she hums,
The next day, both would entice.
------
vol 6, Multiples
Born frail
Through my wonder I wander and become pained
and rover subtly these days
Time polishes my brain,
Wisdom lies in the grave
If I were a cat
I’d scratch this and that
To me it wouldn’t matter
I’d pee on the floor
Chip paint off the door
Maybe jump on the counter
I act like a cat
Thinking this and that
But actions always matter
So now I’m a man
I sit with my sham
And I begin to shatter
Because I can see
It always was she
Left crying, dying, after
Fifteen months ahead of me,
A steady hand I couldn't see.
When all the world was dark and cold,
You held the shelter I could hold.
Through foster doors and shifting ground,
You were the anchor that I found.
You raised me up, you stood up tall,
And kept me safe through it all.
Now high school starts, the days move fast,
I act out on the days gone past.
I give you grief, I make you sigh,
And let my attitude run high.
But suddenly the smoke gives way,
I see the debt I cannot pay.
The hidden burdens that you bear,
The quiet ways you show you care.
I see it now, the truth is clear:
You’ve been my strength through every year.
I’m sorry for the noise I make
Thank you for every step you take.
You chose my name,
And you chose my fate.
You are not here,
But every now and then, I still think of you.
Would you have been a good father?
Would you have taught your daughters?
I hear a song and think of you,
I see something go wrong and think of you.
In the end, I remember why you're not here:
You left, so why should I waste my time waiting for you?
You had your chance, but you walked away.
You didn't want the responsibilities.
You didn't want us.
So today, I choose to move forward without you.
Sesquipedalian, sounds like an alien
Syllables trailing from your tongue like a train
Seems like you'd rather leave words in a lather
Forming like foam from the rain in your brain
Eye's water, this slaughter of discourse dissection
Is deserving of mid-course correction at least
If only your colleagues could change the direction
Of this Grand Panjandrum in pedantical feast
Fly not too high, nor too close, for your wings may ascend, but also descend.
Become not arrogant, nor too ambitious, for you may think you won, but have not.
No confined walls, nor no ruler, for you may soar and roar, but do not forget.
Warning not obeyed, nor a sense of self, for you may be high, but end low.
Dimly lit sky, nor a person in sight—father beckoning me down, I did not listen.
Arousing aroma uplifting, nor my senses tingling, it was too late when I realized.
Dazzling lights ‘round. Blinding. Deadly. Hollow. My wings broiled to the touch.
Had I obeyed my father's warning, I may have realized. High. Too high, I had reached.
My wings melted and I fell. Ambitious I was. Foolish I was. My last flight was hardly a fight.
I drifted through my days with vacant eyes,
watched the years dissolve to useless gray.
I never paused to marvel at the skies,
nor cared enough to savor my days.
I called it life, this numb and silent crawl,
where every spark of joy was choked and slain.
I heard no beauty in the sparrow's call,
nor felt the quiet worship of the rain.
Then sickness came — a cold and crushing thief,
a heavy clock that echoed through my soul's hall.
The striking dark brought a sudden belief:
to merely breathe is not to live at all.
I reached for all I'd failed to understand,
for every dream I'd left to fade from view.
But time slipped softly like forgotten sand —
too late to grasp the world I never knew.
I do not know if God is there,
or if the silence has learned my name
I kept knocking
on doors that were never meant to open
watched the world burn bright with borrowed light
while I stood in the dimness of my own becoming
until the quiet leaned closer
and placed a truth in my trembling chest—
this breath is no accident,
this unfinished life… a blessing I almost missed
a torn veil,
a crac ked veneer,
eye s e e,
sharp and sudden
light burns through the fog,
breath catches,
ice thaws,
lies exposed,
it's weight
d
r
o
p
s
away;
heavy chains
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
to the floor,
the world is not the same!
clear...
truth now exhaling.
Never planned on breaking a sweat,
Yet by day's end, my clothes tell a different story.
Never wanted to trade sleep for anything,
Yet now, I greet the silence of 3 a.m. like an old friend.
Never had intentions for love,
But somehow, I remained faithful for years
To someone who never returned the feeling.
Never cared about the number on the scale,
Yet here I am — hyper-aware of every curve, every calorie.
Never imagined giving up my luxuries,
But now I stand, shoulder to shoulder
With strangers on public transit daily.
Somewhere between my nevers and now,
I learned — change is the only constant.
It just takes over, unasked,
And makes itself at home,
Turning me into someone I never expected to be.
Never planned on breaking a sweat,
Yet by day's end, my clothes tell a different story.
Never wanted to trade sleep for anything,
Yet now, I greet the silence of 3 a.m. like an old friend.
Never had intentions for love,
But somehow, I remained faithful for years
To someone who never returned the feeling.
Never cared about the number on the scale,
Yet here I am — hyper-aware of every curve, every calorie.
Never imagined giving up my luxuries,
But now I stand, shoulder to shoulder
With strangers on public transit daily.
Somewhere between my nevers and now,
I learned — change is the only constant.
It just takes over, unasked,
And makes itself at home,
Turning me into someone I never expected to be.
Woke up at 3a.m., heavy lidded. Had no other go but to embrace it. The clock was ticking 4:20 when I was facing my book feeling groggy, but my desire to score won’t let me doze off. Got dressed up in my school uniform and found myself waiting for the school van. Despite my wait, the van made an appearance 35 minutes later. It was an exam day and I’ve already lost 35 minutes. My mind was in a state of unrest. Got in the van with the very same state of mind. I got to witness the outside world between 8:25 a.m. and 8:55 a.m. for the first time which seemed to me so eternal. I happened to see my friend after a very long time. Though I didn’t get To talk to her, my heart began recollecting the memories. The sun was brighter and more glowing than ever. The gentle chill breeze approached me through the window. My state of mind? Was peaceful than ever before. Maybe sometimes it is good not to resist what is to happen.
You read one line and said you know,
the hidden things I never show,
the softer parts I never grow,
my hope inside a jar.
You swore you'd be my one true love,
someone to put high above,
not a weight to get rid of,
and yet here we are.
I don’t like poems because they are exact summaries of everything felt at the time they are written. Memories of grief, pain, sorrow, sadness, anger, guilt, shame, joy, passion, love, jealousy, and envy wash over you, flooding your senses. You relive whatever moment led to the inspiration behind the piece, and it is both taunting and exhausting. I feel the weight of all the emotional labour I must overcome just to consume the art.
I prefer fictional writing because of its endless scale, its boundless freedom to explore any reality, any dimension. It’s fun, it’s pretend—it serves as a never-ending night sky, covering you like a blanket over your head, protecting you from anyone who might interrupt your fun. In fiction, I can transport myself to an entirely new experience, forgetting everything that might pull me away from this mental escape.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.