Last Commented Dark Poetry Poems (2,492)

I wish I was you, someone once said, I said, I wish I was you too, for all of my troubles would be gone away, for you to take, I would forsake, but I never knew, what you had been through, can we renegotiate this pact of ours? I'm willing to spend hours and hours, I'm sorry I wished, I did not know, my life was happy,,, can we make it so?

Who is the standard bearer of life as we know it? A conspiracy theorist? or a government thats right? It seems to me, we are told whats true, not for me, not for you, unless you are rich, with connections, no price to pay, no corrections, hey you,, yes you,, that normal person,, have you not learned your lesson? Take what you are told as true, never be uniquely you, the establishment controls how it will be,,,never you,,, never me.

Once upon a time, the world had ended, picture that within your mind, nothing , anywhere left to find, debris floating, in space and time, we did not exist, we were not here, so,,, what have we to fear? Face tomorrow, smile and say, I was here, I did not stay!

Take an injection for your correction,, let it go, you wont know, remember its all just for your good, we forgot to wear a hood, we will f*ck you over, because we can, its all in the plan, so just lie there and let it happen,,,its only right its only fair, being stupid is your prerogative, thats your decision,,, that how you live.

I like it here,
I am no one,
Missing the spotlight, yeah,
No, not knowing it would get you burned,-
Like a spoiled child - allowed to run wild,
What have you learned?
You remember where you've been,
Time for someone else to take their turn,-

Flying about and above,
Here to there,
On an endless road,
Alone,-
Lights! Camera! Action!,
Fortune, fame, then pass out on the floor,
They revive you - then re-energize you,
Then they expect you to ask for more?,

Sometime, someday, one day,
From perhaps a dream, you awake,
Of what you once had, gained, and lost,
What would you do? - Would you do again?,-
I like it here,
I am no one,
Missing the spotlight? No,
Yeah, knowing it will get you burned,-

Slams the door
Heavy the hinges grinds that
Drewls within the stench of odours of others that have been before
Light flickers
Heavy bangs noises loud voices heard
Six sides one is trapped
One sits to one fate to one's dispair
Stench of others over powers
Graffity scorned walls from others there ones alone shivers cold
Now one coming
Alone and scared
One sits and drewls
Time stops
One is lost in limbo
Time now gone
Your alone

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day..
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light

My life is a funeral dying in life living in death remains not yet to be sold beginning to old, to many deaths to many ways to call it home, the remains to be left with all this alienation building from all things, starting over and over until I find myself looking at the inevitability of mortality dealing with pain living in vain gut wrenching sadness washes through the empty heart filled with grief of ones hope, caring and staring waiting and crying building and dying, to do what rise? no fall and fall again till nothing has taken me whole taken my soul writhing at night trying to defeat the sunlight faded lines trading rhymes defeated destroyed unknown to all be known to one reality is a manifestation of thought a memory of distortion a debate that’s killing likened to feel that if I fold will I live to fulfil my role, collapsing statements of family abuse turmoil that hides away like a monster in a cave to take to the grave nothing matters to live without telling people to stay without killing people to win without losing people to forgive is to lie to take is to die to end is to start I am a broken heart.

Reality appears in the worst of times, never to be seen in the best of times,
when the shit hits the fan and nothing goes according to plan, well, that's reality,
when doom and gloom enter your room, it's reality, suck it up, take it on the chin, it doesn't matter where your going or where you've been, reality will inevitability win.

Why do people think soo much about life AFTER DEATH? Is it the same as life BEFORE BIRTH?, we must have been in the same place, we don't remember, so, we appear and then disappear, I don't know where I was a year before I was born, same place when I'm gone? Well we were not here before we were born, and we won't be here when we are gone,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,or will we?