I am the queen,

Of my little town

I am the queen,

Without a crown!

The hut is my palace,

The chair is my throne

My people have no malice,

My people never frown!

In my queendom

Of love and joy,

There is wit and wisdom

In every girl and boy.

I am no Helen,

I am no Psyche

For I rule the haven,

A place many seek.

That’s who I am,

The queen of my town

And that’s what I am,

A queen without a crown!

and maybe I still love you. 

maybe every time I hear your name,

something catches in my chest

and my throat feels tight

and I feel like the world is ending for a second.

I laugh along with them when we talk about you,

it seems they have forgotten how much I cared,

they can’t see the knife stabbing into me every time I hear your name.

perhaps they think I forgot you, who you were, who you became, 

but every time I hear your voice, it’s an unimaginable ache 

from when you accidentally dropped my heart without hearing my screams. 

because it’s been six years, and I loved you too much to forget you

after one day of falling from hope into that realization

that we were never meant to be.

do not wish for that “unrequited love” that is so romanticized in fantasies,

do not wish to love or be loved, 

because when they drop you, 

without even turning to look at your heart which now rests on the ground

you will lose yourself in loss, claim you are over it, and then continue to love

as you always have, 

but the only difference is that 

you will be

broken. 

The wind,

Carrying away the command,

just before it's heard,

The Wind,

Whipping at my skin,

until I feel like I'll never be warm again.

Though the wind,

through the rain,

over the mountian,

away from my home.

I doubt I'll ever return.

I don't even know if I will survive.

The Wind.

Howling like wolves.

Pulling me further,

away from the life I knew.

The life I knew,

with my brother so sweet and kind,

with gentle breezes.

singing a song.

This wind

it is evil,

Hateful,

a murderer.

I don't know what picks me up,

the wind,

or someone else.

But I walk

and walk

and walk,

and walk,

and walk...

This is a poem about someone leaving their home as a captive. I don't know at what time, I just wanted to work on a story through a poem.

I can't choose one attriute, for that would be contrary to my personality. I'm complicated, made up of so many different things that I couldn't possibly choose one. So I will give a few...

Love

I'm loving, kind and caring. I take care of the naigborhood kids, watching them even though I wasn't asked. I I love people in general. It doesn't matter who they are, you just have to help them.

Extravert

I'm always available for conversation, it really isn't too hard. I like ot talk to people. I like to tell stories. I listen to them as well. I'm unafriad of walking up to someone and starting a conversation.

Hospitaliy

I am very hospitible. I make sure that everyone has food, water, and invite people over for things. I learned to take care of others, and so I do.

My hands are tied,

my legs are bound.

and I am chained to the ground.

As I watch you drown in pain.

I want to help,

But I can't.

I don't know how,

I can't help you on my own.

I need to know how to help,

If you just let me know.

I will listen to every rant,

I will offer any advice I can.

I will be the shoulder to cry on,

I just need to know.

How can I help?

"You don't care!"

Those three words,

as they were said,

made me almost be the one crying instead.

As wrong as they were,

I wonder if that's how I am.

Someone I love,

someone I truly care about,

they don't feel it?

Am I so unaffectionate?

Don't they know that I would shoot myself

before I would hurt them?

Don't they know I did my best?

Or could it just be words spoken out of anger?

It really struck a chord,

deep down I wonder,

How is it,

that she believes I don't love her?

How is it that she thinks I don't care?

Could it just be an argument, one that she might forget soon?

Or could it be a matter of me?

I need to know if I'm failing.

I need to know what I did wrong.

Love is sacrificing yourself,

for the better of others.

I don't mean dying.

I mean your time,

your energy,

your resources,

your passions.

You give somthing up

for somone else.

That's what love is,

it's how it's shown.

There is many ways to show it,

but you can find love by seeing,

what do others do for you?

Hey, so, I was in a slump for a long time there. Got in trouble. Ran away. Got picked up by police with dogs. Got a TV in my room after a couple months of lockdown. Now I'm hired to work at a fast food resturant, since I'm of age. I'm in creative writing classes now, and I have been acing it ;P (mainly been copying posts on here XD) I'm going to try to be on here more often, because this is fun.

The world is full,

full of idiots and angry people.

They riot and rant,

they steal and kill.

They are like children.

They can't get their way,

so they throw a tantrum.

It's okay to be angry,

but that's not how to react.

You react with reason,

you react with peace.

Don't give them reason,

to put you in jail.

Don't go wild and crazy.

It doesn't have to take a tragedy

not to change something.

You can do something else.

make people listen.

Don't use violence.

Fighting fire with fire

doesn't do a thing.

All you will do

is add to the flame.