I have some poems that I would like to post here. I wrote them. I don't have them with me now but I'll post them later on tonight when I get home. I'm opening the thread so I'll have to do it.

These poems express exactly how I feel. I really wish they didn't express how I felt, because then I wouldn't be lonely anymore. I wrote them several years ago thinking it was just a phase but it isn't a phase, and I still feel this way.

They don't rhyme, and aren't metered. And I did that on purpose because rhyming and meter are patterns, are predictable, and I have learned that life is not predictable, and has no pattern.

Okay I guess that's it for now. I'll log on tonight and post them. I will be good to get them off my chest, because it's been weighing very heavily on me, and I think it will help if others read them.

That's great, Dream. =)

All right, here we go.

Wanderer

Looking up at the dark night sky
Clouds pink from the urban lights
The breeze moving gently through the trees
Silhouetted against the sky

Who I was is gone, only a form left
I have no cares, no emotion
Just numbness where the pain was
And apathy where there was care

Reality is lost
Only vast confusion now
There is no direction to prefer
For a lost wanderer

This is who I am
But what does it matter
I can be no other way
And survive

The slight breeze in the dark
Touching no one, barely existent
Where does it come from
And where does it go

Streets and sick night air surround me
Looking down from the sky
To the pavement beneath my feet
I travel I know not where

Water

The silence surrounds me
In a desert of deafening people
Surrounded but alone
I am silent

I am nurtured by silence
My cradle in the masses
They cannot know
I dare not speak my fear

Naked and numb
My mind, raw flesh
Steeped in emotional pain
I must be silent

No love, no joy,
No comfort, no beauty
Only desperation in the city
Silently awaiting my fate

My home is my death
Midst the countless
I am suffocating
No words for this

I have some water
To sip while I wait
And exist in non-existence
Despondent in silence

Okay here's the last one. I know they're depressing. So if you don't want to possibly get depressed, don't read on. This one's a doozy.

Disillusioned

My life is an utter ruin
Things have happened
Things I cannot change
There are no new days

There is no escaping what has happened
I cannot change the past
I cannot change who I am
I cannot change my life

So much shame
So much pain
So many struggles
They overcome me

I cease the struggle
To undo what cannot be undone
I cease the struggle
To be who I cannot be

I cease the struggle
To attain a life that cannot be mine
Disillusioned, I withdraw
And vanish

I continue the rest of my days
In quiet seclusion
I dwell in solitude
And continue to be who I am

Im trying to find the best poem about love someone ever made but its in my language, made by a guy (a portuguese one) that was born in 1525. Im trying hard to find it in english but i found this one that he wrote too.

Let Love search for new arts, a new talent
to kill me, and new indifference;
for it cannot take away my hopes,
for it will have difficulty in taking from me what I do not have.

See with what hopes I maintain myself
See how dangerous my safety is!
For I do not fear contrasts or changes,
sailing on the rough sea, my vessel lost.

But, although there cannot be any grief
where there is no hope, Love hides
from me an evil that kills and cannot be seen.

For there are days that have placed in my soul
an I know not what, that is born I know not where,
appears I know not how and hurts I know not why.

I give up... Its unbelieveble! The best love poem i ever read and i cant find it in english to share. Amazing...
shatteredream, you write really beatiful. I really would like to know how express myself like you do.

\m/O_o\m/ awsome poems guys real nice work

Thanks Luna, it means a lot. I've only shown these to just 2 people. They're as much a part of me as my soul, and sometimes that's hard to share because you make yourself vulnerable then. But for some reason, sharing them here really helps me with the pain.

One constant in the poems is that I tried to keep the lines short, like I'm running out of breath, because it hurts too much to breathe, to be alive.