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Heavy hearts, burnt by sad words unspoken
Dissatisfaction, like treasures, hidden
Annoyance, harboured in abeyance
With each one seeking his vengeance
What was to be forgotten was never forgiven
For forgiveness found no apology to embrace
So were conflicts covered underground
Until what they could handle got out of hand
And what began cheerfully ended subtly

© Austin-Vicker
 Apr 2022 Frances Raeburn
Hafsa S
The bitterness of my past
Bleeds into my present
Turns every sweet experience
Bittersweet
It snuck up on me, this realisation that there comes a point when you've lived long enough, when you've suffered in enough unique ways that nothing can ever be purely sweet again. Every new scent, every new sight, every new experience reminds you of a painful memory. So you may be able to appreciate its beauty for a second or so, but eventually it just leads you to think of all the ways that it can go wrong. And in the end all you are left with is a bitter aftertaste.
 Apr 2022 Frances Raeburn
max
cant pretend that i was perfect,
leavin you in fear
got ******* expelled for standing up for lgbt rights lol *******
 Apr 2022 Frances Raeburn
Yenson
I agree its not fair
your cross is way larger and heavier than mine
have you thought of studying Carpentry.....( smirk )
 Apr 2022 Frances Raeburn
Yenson
We discourage laughter here
on account
the little people will think you are laughing at them.....
Here, I live, but I'm not living
In this land of no forgiving
My existence is a burden
So I won't try to be a person

Mi loĝas, sed ne vivas
Kaj se eĉ la suno brilas
Bone pli, mi ne ekzistu
Do mi neniel insistu

Wie zu wuhne unne lewe
Unn zu keemols sei vergewe
Ich bin umringt vun die Gretze
Unn kann niemols daerfe schwetze
English, Esperanto, Pennsilvaanisch Deitsch
this overcoat
of friends
filled with smoke and
lies. I’ve worn for
years. Drenched in tears
it’s soaked and heavy
as my father’s 60 Chevy.

Time to Shed
this wrinkled skin
I’ve lived in all my life. It’s pale
and thin/stretched
too wide. I cannot hide the
Lilly spots that branch out
from my eyes.

Time to shed
this painted red
drawer of memories
beside my bed. I haven't
energy to sift through
the pile/sort out the happiness
from the bile.
 Apr 2022 Frances Raeburn
Colm
I haven't forgotten you
Or fallen softly into the arms of the forlorn
Almost memories no more, no
I haven't forgotten because because
I haven't forgotten the last of us
Of which once was
So much more

I still remember
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