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brenda-callahan
59 year old female who likes to write
To the eyes who see me blinded by preconception You have named me timid, fraid, traumatized, sad, shy, recluse alone Fearfully quiet You present me a victim who cannot stand ,speak, serenade, seek, spreading self strong against the world I challenge that you have not understand the me that was so quickly judged in prejudice You have not seen the courage ,resilience ,strength, stubbornness power that. Is me Pray take your weak minded thinking and look closely as perhaps what you are judging is more self then me I have been and will be ever be moving with each day firmly underfoot so that I know what I am ,who I am, and where I will be
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Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
Not as you see me
Mother whelped me on a Sunday in A storm of curse words as if She was trying to push my stubborn little *** Into a place I did not want to be as if I had an opinion in the matter I suspect I simply slid out when she was not paying attention I was the youngest of 12 and Mamma had been told by the ladies of of her church that she should not have children and vowed she had been lied to Daddy charmed momma like a preacher though he had never seen the inside of a building where they had talked about Jesus the lord or anything that wafted of religion Mother denies any attraction to daddy though I suspect that this is not true. Lies say I as she lay with him enough to get quickened 12 times --that requires more than just a tasting. I suspect the taste turned bad as I waasbthe last whelp from that sire
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Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
Sundrie Mitchell
There is little to know I am all that I present No secrets, no snares No scandals hidden beneath the bed Open and flowing are the pages of my life Written full of words loud and proud Seductive, strong, sorrowful all spewing Crowding pages with clattering verbs So it shall be left to you to read the words Should you choose Write I shall continue to do for The reader who will welcome words of of mine
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Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC
As I am
I have marched to a different band One that is out of tune and so bad that everyone else went home But I understood the shrill notes, the mismatched beats Musicians who won't read music or keep in time Chaos touching places convention never knew Evoked a calmness on my wondering mind Magic happens when chaos becomes convention For a moment   I am a part But then I seek another chaos place to be Until that too shall tune in on me
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Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
To the Band marched I
Morning beckons New adventures abound Life calls richly and loudly Pleasures to taste fully Open doors give much light To clear all doubt and fear Journeys begin where darkness end Pathways clearly marked to be seen And so shall I embark to the next step with steady gait and forward walk
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Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
To the Call
We live We breathe We eat We talk We touch We see We Feel We **** We love We hate We **** We do not understand
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May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
Praxis of living