I write my thoughts and rant in rhymes. It's nothing impressive, but i enjoy doing it. ( =• × •=)

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  • emily_cjw 7w

    A Kind of Silence Only Loneliness Can Have

    The empty echoes of the creaking floor,
    The slowing ticks of the dying clock.
    Sounds like loneliness at my door,
    Paying me a visit here once more.

    A constant ringing in my ear,
    Like a bell that only I could hear;
    Perhaps loneliness is already here,
    He's out waiting, oh how drear.


  • emily_cjw 11w

    I haven't been writing at all for a long time, and a part of me really felt as if I've lost it. I don't feel the satisfaction from creating content anymore, and it feels as if the words are stolen from my head...
    In the end, I wrote about it still. Kind of like a stubbornness to continue writing.

    #lost #writer #creative #writing #poet

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    Isn't it funny how time flies,
    But like a crippled crow, I couldn't?
    Isn't it odd how youth can lie,
    But this painful reality wouldn't?

    How ironic that a clumsy line from years ago brought me calmer days than a perfect metered rhyme.

    How tragic is it that a writer's world can be shattered,
    Yet the disappointment still lingers so?
    Like a painter who went blind or a singer who was muted,
    How sad it is for a poet to lose their wonder.


  • emily_cjw 11w

    A Lost Touch

    I'm at a lost for words,
    Unable to describe this feeling.
    A sensation like I'm lacking,
    As if I've lead my thoughts astray.

    How must I describe this feeling?
    Like a slate blank without thoughts.
    What about this dreary apathy?
    It resembles taste of water.

    With a talent I've lost without acquisition,
    I write with no comprehension.
    I understand nothing about happiness,
    But even less about this emptiness.

    I felt as if I've lost my touch,
    Like I've succumbed to a deep boredom.
    My mind no longer writes its thoughts,
    But simply drag my days forward.

  • emily_cjw 44w

    Wisteria flowers symbolize long life and immortality, and it portrays love and bliss in Japanese flower language.

    #nature #love #flowers #paradise #death #life #time #heaven #peace #poetry

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    Land of Wisteria

    In a land of eternity,
    Where Wisteria flowers bloom;
    Where time stretches infinitely,
    And death no longer looms.

    A world where the heart may stay,
    Where the ones we loved return;
    A land to which the living pray,
    Where the clock no longer turns.

    Solemn days may fade,
    Rooted scars may heal.
    No longer do we have to wade
    Through time's river, spinning fate's wheel.

  • emily_cjw 44w

    Without a Trace

    In front of the calming waves,
    The breeze beckons to me;
    As if asking to be saved,
    Form far beyond the sea.

    The storm had just passed,
    The sand still shifts below.
    The sky now seems vast,
    Though my head kept hanging low.

    My footprints disappear,
    Taken by the waves,
    There's no point in tracing back,
    To the paths which were unpaved.


  • emily_cjw 46w

    To the Hilt

    Scream till you're heard,
    Cry till it hurts.
    It's a life not worth living,
    No pain compares to this feeling.

    Write till your tears dry,
    Rant till your heart dies.
    The pain feels just fine,
    It's proof that I'm alive.

    Drink till it goes numb,
    Sleep till you go dumb.
    It's the need to keep breathing,
    Though we've given up on living.

    Work till we die young,
    Give till we have none.
    A society full of holes,
    It's our lives which it controls.


  • emily_cjw 48w

    The Lost Helping the Blind.

    The wounded heal what the killers steal,
    The saddened saw through joyful veils.
    Losers want what winners own,
    Yet the lost will trace the paths they'd known.

    As broken people we console,
    We seek out those with broken souls.
    Helping those reflecting truths,
    In hopes that they will spare some ruth.

    When filling holes in ones heart,
    With pity hidden since the start,
    How can we hope to give to them,
    When we ourselves are a broken mess?


  • emily_cjw 54w

    Conversational Burnout

    Crackle... Crackle... Hiss—
    Hearing the fire in her heart go out.
    The negative feelings pouring down,
    Yet another round of burnout.

    Watching her turn away,
    My voice drier than the summer drought.
    Her eyes full of things she wants to say,
    As I stood frozen feeding doubt.


  • emily_cjw 61w

    Another quarantine piece for the boredom that is online school.

    #quarantine #boredom #bored #poetry #writing #lockdown #procrastination #boring #onlineschool

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    Time still ticking, papers blank.
    Assignments waiting, my patience sank.
    I turn to a poem, but I'll be frank,
    There's not much left in my poetry bank.

    Now still writing, my words seem dull,
    Finding rhymes from my empty skull.
    But even a poem with meanings null,
    Can least bring product to this lull.


  • emily_cjw 69w

    TW, mentions of blood and self harm implied.
    #suicide #selfharm #depression #death #lonely #alone

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    One, two, drops of blood;
    Three, four, trickling down.
    Feel it fall and stain the ground,
    Silent sobs, make no sound.

    Tick tock, clock strikes twelve;
    Drip drop, the shower stopped.
    Look around, I'm by myself,
    I'll die right here while the door is locked.