Poems about human

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like
To feel human.

Just for a little while.

I miss my childhood.
I miss my innocence and child-like imagination.
I miss the people I still love who used to love me.
Now, people disappoint me.
They've always let me down somehow, one way or another,
Abandoning me in the past where I'm stuck in
Where the memories still live and matter,
Stored in my blur forever.
I miss everything and anyone I ever encountered for even just a moment
Whether the situation was good or bad or neutral.
At least, I experienced something and felt something and learned something.
People live in this society where the truth is hidden
Because they know if they ever thought about the truth,
It'd kill them inside,
And we'd all be dead.

You don't know me; it's a good thing you don't.
If you did, you'd be corrupted for your benefits.
What I'm implying is: I'm insane, a genius.
The norm is psychotic; the sane are idiots.
Insanity is the only sane reaction
To understand the people contaminating the world.
I can literally sit here and write you an entire book,
Everything I have to say about the disgusting world existing now.

I'm just boring and depressing and a downer.
Why should you like me? I'm a loser
When everyone else has forgotten about me.
My family doesn't understand me; they never do, like my friends who are strangers.
I'm incapable to find someone with the same suffering.
I ramble on about my misery knowing you've heard similar stories from others,
But you have different pathways as everybody else, not a rarity.
It's a damn oxymoron: We're all the same in a different way.

I'm just a fucked up person.

What matters most to us as human beings
Our spiruality our family
Our ability to see possibilities in the stars
Loving animals the smell and vastness of oceans
The smell of a bakery on the wind wafting into our souls
The smell of fresh cut grass... the sweetness of candy
Or maybe the pungency of a good cheese
Or is it our ability to find pleasure in all these things
As it should be
Not hiding behind any false walls or lies or a disguise
Or maybe its just a beautiful soul with deep soulful brown eyes

Human emotions are but pain and commotion
Swirling around like a storm on the ocean
Betrayal is born when you offer your devotion
And your mind breaks down when your heart splits open

They all come with these things called feelings that vary amongst each other but nevertheless they all have some of their own

And when they develop these feelings for another one of their kind they experience strange symptoms such as having blood constantly rushing to their faces and their heartbeats increasing rapidly in their presence

Their term for it is love and sometimes it causes them to do impulsive and uncharacteristic things and sometimes it causes them to deny these feelings of theirs and other times it prevents them from functioning as they normally would

They say love is an emotional rollercoaster (a metal contraption with small vehicles connected to tracks of varying lengths and shapes and speeds that humans go on for amusement) and that it is one of the greatest gifts given to humans, but that's up to you to decide

A white palette
Is fine by me
My eyes and lips
Are all I need
No painted face
Or angel hair
No human race
Can make me care
This is me
And I am fine
Don't taint my face
Just fill my mind

I am a man.

Society has weighed itself
Upon my shoulders.

I can do
No wrong.

The waters rush over my ears;
I can drown myself in alcohol
To make up for the horrid years.

A man; could I really have been
Created by God's hands?
I truly find this impossible;
Forgive me, Father,
For I have sinned.
I let desire win.

I loved a Her.
But in the end, a voice
Equal to a cat's purr
And skin like fur are what
Plagued my stale nights.

Her.

This equaled out
To be an atomic bomb
In my ruined mind.

The philistine hands
Pulled me from waters;
Just to hold me back under again.

The eyes that had
Traveled along my body

The fingertips tracing
Every bone of my existence

The laughter dancing
In tune with my subdued one

Her.

Forgive me,
Father, for I have sinned.
I let her lust pull me in. -DDF

They say that when you grow up,
The world will be in your hands.
Yet, small phalanges cannot affect such diversity,
Correct?


The thought is comforting,
However, disagreement tugs me.
This simple body part
Functions in ways that could
Destroy or kill.

Fingers dance upon
Passionate melodies
Or provide
Soothing caresses
Assuring you that you are in peace.


But some are stained crimson
With marks of sin.

Callused, rough, and
Ignorant about a
Tender touch.


Nimble and agile, they create
Illusions the human eye
Cannot follow,
Letting them have freedom to
Manipulate and control
Weak minds.

Yet they also spring delight in
Children's eyes.
Their imagination beholds
Tales of magic and fairytales with each
Flick of the wrist.

When you're in a void,
Consumed by your thoughts, just
Weeping,
Regretting,
Loathing,
Aching,
Doesn't a spark light a
Fire of desperate hope
For a savior to pull you out?

Unpredictable movements of doing the
Wrong things for the right reasons,
Or vice-versa,
Who can you really trust?

Unpredictable movements of doing the
Wrong things for the right reasons,
Or vice-versa,
Who can you really trust?

Human hands hold frail things with
Care or recklessness.

Human hands share
Fear or love.

Human hands display
Favor or hatred.

Take my two cents and tread carefully.
The globe is but fragile glass

*Entrusted in your hands.