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 May 2016 Dracol Noir
Elizabeth
I was skipping on the concrete tight

rope when the wind swirled beneath my tipping
parapluie and I took flight into the loosely

hanging telephone wires and my voice suddenly
cracked through a handheld, reciting the lyrics of a favorite

symphony.
 May 2016 Dracol Noir
Meggghanq1
So many misinterpreted metaphors
make me cringe
''are you trying to ruin poetry for everyone''
but I hide my damp eyes behind my fringe
because I mustn't argue and my teachers are never wrong
They sing without a meaning or lyric in their song
we are taught to write what they want to hear
not the truth we feel inside our hopes and fears

But i must turn the other cheek
to get my degree I need..when home I ponder, I weep
because it was the school that killed poetry
for many of my peers..
But all is not lost..wipe away those tears
Grab the pen that feels ethical
the paper that doesn't deceive, doesn't lie
and write a poem that you can feel
you'll get out of school alive
(You know who you are who started this haha!)..Don't get me wrong I love teachers in general..I plan on becoming an awesome one someday too :)
 Apr 2016 Dracol Noir
Einahpets
A red that burns across the sky,
Igniting the passion of a thousand suns
An orange that streaks throughout the desert,
Reminding travellers of their insatiable thirst
A yellow that sparks amidst the darkness,
Striking hope into the hearts of the forlorn
A green that sprouts along every blade of grass,
Spreading wisdom and peace across the kingdom,
A blue that blends into the soul of stars,
Fueling energy that bubbles throughout centuries
A purple that bruises every skin and scythe,
Rendering pain and thrills in every soldier
A violet that subdues the exhilaration of life and existence,
Leaving waves of aching sorrows and spirits
 Apr 2016 Dracol Noir
The Dedpoet
When you were a phosphorus angel
     There was almost light,
And your glow became like the Fallen.
        
When you were holding my hand
       Your prints took over
Mine, like a stolen identity...
Willingly.

       And I was,
Because you were my existence
    In the abyss,
And your luminous spirit a breath
      Underwater.

And you were the storm
     That I left the shelter for,
A little grey can go a long way
      In a rain of sorrowing embers.

I was the reconstruction
     Of your project,
Rebuilding is never easy
But you stayed til I was me again.

       Life is big,
But so little in time,
     I am because you were,
I was because you're gone.
I was always stuck.
always in a rough patch but I was also
always inspired.
and no matter what, I just kept
writing and writing and writing
and trying to yell
to scream about how I felt
but all I was screaming at was
blank pages.
and blank pages listen better than most people
and I could've sworn I was absolutely
out of my mind,
but I don't think I cared anymore.
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