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 Sep 2020 Jen
Jess
Monday
 Sep 2020 Jen
Jess
Oh Monday
Your a day
Full of heartache
Lots of gray

You start out sunny
Then comes the rain
Then the anger
With lots of pain

Oh Monday
I hate your day
 Sep 2020 Jen
EmB
pull out the knife,
from where you slid it in my side.
Let the blood,
rich and rosy,
drench your hands,
a reminder, a memento
to the times we passed
untainted, warm in the sun.
Avert your eyes,
from my prostrate pain,
out of sight,
you can raise your head,
pretending the role you played
didn’t bring me down.
 Sep 2020 Jen
Alice
safe
 Sep 2020 Jen
Alice
I tried to write a poem for you.
I tried to put it in words.
but the only thing I can think to say is

I love you. and
Thank you.
you're the only thing I know is real
 Sep 2020 Jen
Ciel Noir
Before
 Sep 2020 Jen
Ciel Noir
I was already someone
before I knew you

I didn't always remember

when I read my old poems
I understand her

I know

I love her and
I want to meet her once again
 Sep 2020 Jen
Paige Error
Love?
 Sep 2020 Jen
Paige Error
They say that love is
Deep
Kind
Long
and Wide
But for me love is
Dead
Dark
Elusive
and Painful
And when my tear stained face finds a gentle hand to wipe away my sorrows
I fall in love
Or perhaps I fall in line
I’m not sure there’s a difference anymore
 Aug 2020 Jen
Christin
π™Έπš πšπš˜πš˜πš” 𝟷𝟼 𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚜
𝚝𝚘 πš πš˜πš›πš” πšžπš™ πšπš‘πšŽ πšŒπš˜πšžπš›πšŠπšπšŽ
πšπš‘πšŽ πš—πšŽπš›πšŸπšŽ
𝚝𝚘 πšœπš’πš πš’πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝.
π™·πšŽπš›πšŽ 𝙸 πšŠπš–
πš˜πš— πš–πš’ πš›πšŽπš πšŒπš˜πšžπšŒπš‘
πš˜πš—πšŒπšŽ πš˜πšžπš› πšπš’πš–πšŽ πš–πšŠπšŒπš‘πš’πš—πšŽ,
πšŠπš—πš π™Έβ€™πš– πšœπš’πš™πš™πš’πš—πš πš πš‘πš’πšœπš”πšŽπš’
πš•πš’πš”πšŽ 𝚊 πš—πš˜πš›πš–πšŠπš• πšƒπš‘πšžπš›πšœπšπšŠπš’.
 Aug 2020 Jen
Joyce
Broken
 Aug 2020 Jen
Joyce
You fetched my love in a pail
Promised our love would always sail
Movement now slow as that of a snail
I'm weary and frail
From the promises I hung onto like a rail
I'm at the point of slipping off the tail
Never a tale I want to tell.
https://youtu.be/POgvzcES3Yg
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 Aug 2020 Jen
Bobby Copeland
Because the morning has easier
Decisions, the old rise early,
Coming to our coffee and eggs
In bowed appreciation
Of the harvesters and hens,
Opening the paper
With bent fingers
And lowered expectations
Of good news, prepared
To see familiar departures
And a history of marriages
That have somehow survived.
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