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Jean Aug 2018
Maybe this is my story?

This is where I chose if I live or die
if I do what is wrong or right

but even in my death
I will raise my voice

my time is almost up

so hopefully

hopefully my shout will echo
echo into the masses of people

hopefully

hopefully my shout will echo
echo into the canyons of those who crouch in cowardice

hopefully
hopefully my shout will echo
echo into the spaces of the silent still too scared to speak

Hopefully

hopefully my cry of defiance
will echo farther than ever before

hopefully

hopefully people will not only hear my shout
but that their hearts will listen also

and hopefully

hopefully
hopefully a few will stand up
Inspired by Hans and Sophie Scholl.

This is not the full poem either, but this is one of my favorite parts.
Brandon Conway Jul 2018
I've inherited a loaded revolver
from my dear ole father

Each .375 has its own name

             apathy       covetousness
   cowardice                misanthrope              
         misogyny      narcissist

Pa shot himself
Ma never taught me how to unload a gun
Ron Gavalik Jun 2018
There's a sadness
that flows through the veins
of people who survive empire.
For some, the sadness transforms
into a base fear of the unknown,
cowardice validated by con-artists
in the open air and by charlatans
who profit deep in the shadows.
The sadness in others can transform
into rage fueled by the thirst
for courage, truth, a moral balance.
Sadness that leads to action
to correct injustices,
that’s the only possible deliverance
from anguish and despair.
Please support me on Patreon: Patreon.com/rongavalik
Anya May 2018
They speak, they laugh, they smile.
They joke, they whisper, they snicker.
They have fun;
I don’t.
They are there; I am here.
Perfect,
a smooth layer of glass.
Not a single bump.
Not
one single
ripple.
Perfect,
cold,
apart,
alone.
But not entirely...still.
A word,
a phrase,
bubbling, churning,
trapped.
Desires escape.
Wants to come out.
Needs to come out.
There, on the tip of the tongue.
Clever?
Maybe.
Funny?
Possibly.
Me?
Yes.
But...
But...
Imperfect.
Thoroughly, utterly, completely imperfect.
And the waves come crashing down-BOOM!
Silence,
gone,
returned to placid waters.
Gone.
Click!
cage locked tight...
Perfect.
Nobody May 2018
If you faced it, what's left to fear?

the searing sound of harmony
seeping through madness in trembling tears
ringing false scents of roses
like men ****** to breathing jaded air
and everything that's been has crowded thoughts
of plagued mindsets beset to foreign dances
I see I, and all that I've been..

I see I, dancing
through blackened flames
I see I and I've seen you..

And now that I've seen you..
what is there left to fear?

Gorgeous rhythms and soothing shadows
haunt words yet to be said through the
pale light of a thousand years

I've never been all that I could dream
Now everything I can say is as a boat
lost at sea, sailing into darkness
never to be seen
to never have been conceived
in this world that's nothing more
than a hallow sleepy dream.
Love, Lovesick, cowardice, inexperience, love-lost, lost love, depression, sad
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