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Like me,
my Poetry is far from perfect
  —a verbal oxen gored

Like me,
my words are often frail and broken
  —still crying to be heard

In me,
the message has found its student
  —to humbly expound

In me,
the truth can accept a birthmark
  —for a promise more profound

Unto me,
the burden is left to finish
   —my life to pledge headlong

Unto me,
  the words now free, unsentenced
    —change imperfectly to song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
 May 2019 ArielMarriel
Raziel
Habits
 May 2019 ArielMarriel
Raziel
They’ll check your wrists,
But not your thighs,
They’ll check your smile,
But not your eyes
They’ll avoid the truth,
Believe the lies,
Nothing to sooth,
No reason to cry,
Our smiles are bright,
Eyes are a bit dull,
Wrists are clean despite,
The blade with an emotional pull,
And we’re emotionally unstable,
But they say that’s okay,
We are all a bit of a riddle,
But that’s the only thing we can convey,
And the world will open to swallow us up,
But that’s okay, at least our habits remain,
And when their arms finally open up,
We will show them the reflection they taught us to shame,
So we paint a smile with the color of red,
From the thighs they didn’t check,
And from our eyes we bled.
And they'll only understand,
When the noose hold us by our necks,
And if they had thought twice,

Maybe our eyes they would have checked.
Very naturally one believes that it is reason
Not emotion that rules the world.
But the truth is it is emotion
That spins ones days
Catapults one out of complacency
To produce and act in
Extraordinary ways.

Love Mary **
You
Lavender lays where the spider cries
On the gravel path by the lawn
The licacious tree spills its leaves
And the spider runs around.

If I could give you a book of thistledown
Lined in sashes of jade silk
And edged in purple squares
Your days fill every page
And every day be you.

Love Mary
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