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The face in the mirror
the look in the eye's
that reflection ain't me it's just a disguise
the fading of hair
the wrinkles that bend
it's just a life story that's told on my skin
this man in the mirror he ain't really me
their's a child inside that want's to be free
that woman of mine you could say she's the same
sometimes in the covers we laugh and play games
but as I get old and my life bears thin
I think of the fun
and think of the friends
so you could say i'm kind of bold
it's just a part of getting old
A poem my dad wrote on his 45th birthday
we all thought it was funny but truth is
I think it was the greatest one he ever wrote
Rafael Melendez
If you found out that all the terrible things you family have to say about me are true, will you still
Choose me?
If I was fiend in disguise trying to be better for you,
Will you tell them they're right?
Would you still love me?
Writing what I spoke;
learning from that I wrote:

end路less路ly aim路less
in路fin路i路ty bra路zen路ness
from towers that rock well
when in doubt of whether
another will or won't tell/
the 'here' is now.
(cryptic/Apocalyptic rung bell)
all that is needed
has ran-off unseated
& towards those I've greeted
I'd declare us undefeated.
we'll get through these together
we'll make it through the bad weather;

we know everyday is a new day,
as long as we're here and we'll still stay.

some days are really rainy,
but with you, i feel less lonely;

one day, hand in hand we'll see the sunshine,
and as one sooner we'll feel just fine.
100 Proof Poetry
She serenades me with her dreams
And I accompany her with my heart
you were just like cigarette smoke.

the smell of it stuck to everything it touched, yet vanished so quickly.
An ounce of action can crush a ton of fear
When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.
it is leaving our words unspoken
that has our throats feeling choked,
it is at this point in time
when setting your words free
may be the only means
to setting yourself
Jeremy Stacy
As though painted by Van Gogh a stream flows in front of the meadow

We sit and prattle, in each other鈥檚 thoughts we dabble, I鈥檇 rather stay than travel, by the brook while it babbles

I end up in smite at the sight of the night
bright filled with light as fireflies take flight
Ryley Wren
I miss you.
You know that, right?

I miss the way
that you smiled
when the sky
was on fire
and warmed
your hands
in the blaze

I miss the way
that you danced
when the stars
were in bits
and pulled me
through the haze

I miss the way
that you loved me
and filled me
with peace
when the world
was drowning
in pain

I miss the way
that you held me
so tight in your arms
to keep my pieces
from floating

When the darkness
was screaming
to take me away
you whispered
to me
as I cried

And even
when shadows
came creeping along
we were safe
when we were

I miss the way
that you loved me
with all of
your soul
and held me close
in the night

for even when
my pain was sky high
you held me
and made it

When my heart
was on fire
and everything burned
You danced
with me
through the pain

because even when
the sky tears apart
I know
I will see you
Tragedy bestows the widowed sufferer.
Lustered in the cause of sheer beauty,
forlorn masks are shared generously.
when a widow suffers the remorse of tragedy, they have no choice but to share the same masks of the peers who present their condolences at a funeral.
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
聽聽Not a single!
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!
Night defeats the sun
    and hangs its pale imposter
    in its own sky
    to wax and wane
    and woo young lovers
    under the boardwalk.

    Monsters hide under beds
    while skeletons fill closets
    and life gets lived always
    hanging in the balance.
    Dawn beats back the dark and
    makes us live another day.
Poetry Art
what if love
isnt just really
meant for people

should we stop loving
or continue to chase
that magical feeling
you get do decide.
Miss Daytona
I wrote on your back words of a bygone era,
When we were a a collusion in the making
Not souls, not cells, not matter
Yet by then, Nabokov had already met V茅ra

And to her, he wrote about a strange joy
What he knew right when he met her
He only ever existed within her eyes,
He was only ever seen through their letters

I鈥檓 not sure you hear the same notes,
I want to be a lover, not a beggar
I want hear the songs of your thoughts
On a loop, growing louder, forever
tainted black
closed her
eyes and took
a very deep breath,
crossed her fingers then
w  h     i     s    p   e    r     e   d,
"I long to see the   o n l  y
man who made me
shine in his
This is my park,
It's in between the pages of a paper
Where I write in large to pour out my heart
The place my peace is found
This is my park, and it's my diary
For every human there's a thing or place we find our inner peace or solace, for me it's writing and my diary is my place of peace.
If I had what it took would I be there?
If I was cute with my hair in a bun would you help me get there?
If I opened doors to my brain would I get there?
If I got there would I deserve to be there?
What if I was like the north star outshining all the other cosmos?
What if I was the sun would I spark light in your soul.
And if I had it all would it be enough?
JL Smith
It's been said,
If you love something
Let it go

So you did
And I'm free,

But I'll return

You love me

漏 JL Smith
Carlo C Gomez
Not of ancient lore,
or some cross to bear.
But here. But now.
No Prince Charming
at the castle door.
Only her, Miss Damsel herself.
In some paper city,
called Zilch,
where things fall apart fast.
She's trapped in no tower,
but a loft instead.
With tin-foil crown,
she climbs across
the kitchen table
to slay the dragon,
in the flames
of his own black-hearted
A dagger to the heart
of the matter,
and all is quiet again.
Then with a satisfied yawn,
she retires for her afternoon nap.
Is it the words whispered
in secret corridors
i love you

are they proclaimed boldly
from roof tops

Or maybe love
sounds like laughter
giggles shared only between two

what if love has no noise
its beauty is similar to a sunset
seen and felt
but never heard
Fantasio Milian
What if
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽you hadn't forgotten
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽­聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 the love
                                                                                           you felt for me.
Would we
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 be happy
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽­聽聽聽聽聽or feel
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽­聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 trapped.
9:11 pm
atticus wilson
Love is a tidal wave
that one alone
cannot brave.

Unless it's a boat for two,
then the ocean is made
for the both of you.
I wrote this for my friend's cousin's wedding.

I'm not stable enough for love
I'm not kind enough for love
I'm not worthy enough for love
I'm not ready for love
Lord please save me
I don't feel human
I don't have strength
I don't belong
I don't want to live
I'm nothing but depressed
A lost case
A piece of work
A damaged ex
Will I ever turn my life around?
And see the world differently?
Like it's meant to be
Like I have a destiny
Like anyone wants me
To be here
some聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 I
聽聽聽聽 say聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 call
聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 it's聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 It聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽

I write, therefore I am.
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
Bullet or bullion:
police and politicians, neither
is better.
Betty H
Alone, in springtime, I cultivate my garden
***** my finger on a pink rose stem
a slight smudge of bright red blood
trickles to my palm
a blemish, no distress
resembles a red tattoo

I recall as a wee child
I would shriek at the glimpse of blood
time being I kiss the rose
grateful for its sugary fragrance
which edifies my spirit
Odd color
of trifling light
Flitting petal
emerged from asphalt's
heated slumber
to lead some airy way--

The road forgot
Sometimes there is a moment that deserves forever....
You paint kindness in your words
That tell stories and emotions.
11 words
October 19,2020
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You鈥檇 hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
鈥淚鈥檓 tired,鈥
鈥淚鈥檓 a failure,鈥
鈥淚鈥檓 stupid 鈥撯
I know it sounds stupid,
It鈥檚 pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You鈥檇 see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You鈥檇 see the monsters
That consume my head;
You鈥檇 hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You鈥檇 see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 see the face
I鈥檝e failed to show back then,
The face I鈥檝e faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You鈥檇 be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
a m a n d a
(and i鈥檓 fairly certain one is)

i鈥檓 just trying to
bring all the things together,
this entire time.
that鈥檚 it.

tagging and
聽聽linking and
highlighting and
聽聽tearing out and
layering and

it鈥檚 just a reflection
of my reality.

- no - that鈥檚 not right,
not a reflection.

it is more of a
p r o j e c t i o n,
i suppose.
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
You tread a fine line
Afraid to look down.
Instead, pretend to be fine.

Avoid the doubts and fears.
No matter the cost,
The floods of tears.

They come biting back.
The insecurity,
A welcoming snack.

Latched on for dear life.
You find solace
At the edge of a knife.

Comforted and bewildered.
Malignant, yet benign.
You are bruised and blistered.

Here is where growth lies.
Shofi Ahmed
Queen Fathima the Queen of Heaven
she tones her rose-red colour
and lent nature a cool spark.
Boom, that fires up big bang!  
So she shades her hue
puts on her black niqab
so in her shadow nature can flower.
Now the full-blown scientia nature
is beyond every hand鈥檚 touch
eyes on for her Queen everywhere!
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don鈥檛 believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He鈥檚 the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
鈥淲e鈥檙e perfect for each other鈥
And you can鈥檛 tell me
He鈥檚 not the one.

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