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Born Apr 2017
We were diamonds
Riding on a carriage of dreams
that kept us going

Courageous despite smoky years
eyes on the price
believing its what we wanted

But it ain't what most people think it is
You follow it and it becomes an obsession
and you stray further from reality

You keep wanting and not living
Life becomes a dream
all you had to be was happy

Don't chase a false reality
contentment is what matters


Stuck
In a world filled with greed
and cynic beings
longing for What never was
Born Apr 2017
High on words
Escaping a life that was never mine
Once upon a time
I was in love
Born Apr 2017
Memories, memories grinding your brain
Scorching wound opening up
A prisoner in your own body
A prisoner in my own body

Sigh! exhausting pain
Reminiscing on those days
When icicles is all that mattered
When we were busy
Paper chasing
Life chasing
Dream mending
Afraid of being popped
Holding on a hopeless rope
Screaming at the top of my lungs

God......
I know you got me
Am a sinner but I know you got me
Born Mar 2017
I reckon the ages when the fogies
did ,that which wasn't bogey
and reasons why seasons did sizzle
a past never altered to past tense
for this is my utterance

Lost had nothing to post
just a gaze ,giring me a phrase
this is now the boat of amazement
bloated ;though it towed it lagged my bragging heart to fuse

I beckon with ease but not bliss
though to find peace but just please
jammed on.....
crumbled thoughts ,crumpled mind forth with a wrinkled ****** looks.
It was nothing special!

it took no nook,cranny not all the kin
all in all I found myself on the book

Something felt to be great ,
with the magnitude of the concocted ideas
the amazing grace 'song' just leveled to the latitude
those were the days ,no longer the same
Blame the game

Curtain drawn ,not yet certain
the pain is gone but still torn
born a new but just with some .....to cling on

I obliged to lean on a clean page
For the idea is no longer oblivious
Various scenes but not the obvious
©Carter
  Mar 2017 Born
Robert Andrews
Replete of all its splendor
my withered heart beats...
Such a sad and tortured drum.

Refusing me death
It pumps its useless lifeblood
through my veins

My loneliness leaves me cold.
My desires.... with a frosted skim of ice,
How I long to melt for some unknown spring.

I have love inside!
I have love!!!
Love, no one even pretends to try and see

A poet!! What a joke!!
A dying breed of feelers
left to drown!

Pour me the cheapest drink
flavoured with the acrid taste
of societies disdain!!

I know I'm different
(One of the nicer things
that I've been called)...
It makes those cookie cutter clowns
try and fit me in the smallest box!!
Smaller than the one
where they reside!!

Intellect feeds my mind
yet makes me hungry all the time!
And my soul? Oh my soul!!
Always teaching me to walk a truer path.
Never used to be that way.
Now my ****** internal eye
that's all it ever sees!

My heart?
I do not wish to speak of it.
It beats.
At least it gets to share its time
with my soul.. and eating mind

The night is old...
I turn out the light.
Once again I sleep alone
and wish the empty darkness..
an empty dark good-night.

Roosty
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