I've wanted to hear some amateur poetry for a while now. I'll get this thread started with my own work from last night-I hope a few post in turn. Here goes: Travail prevails in the land of hurt. Where emotion takes over-hikes up its skirt, and parades around for all to see. Happy happy, happy glee. "Come here" they say, "We'll make you better" yet all I feel is further fettered. Greaves of grief adorn my feet, hinder my approach to sleeping deep. I see myself, compare-contrast through others eyes (I look so pale), dim and dwindling, as though transluscent. To sleep to dream, to die at last this final act deemed retribution.