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There's a face staring back.
It's not yours its not hers.
Its not familiar but
Its always been there.

That normal face you make.
Its not yours without it.
That thing you do.
That made you unique.
That face thought of it long ago.

Those skills you have.
That seem to come from no where.
Did you think that was you?
I've practiced all my life.

Those genes that you wear.
The ones that no one can share.

What bits do I now own?
Do I need answers?
From this face that has shown.

A face approaching faster
Perhaps one day soon.
I'll meet my father.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
I barely know you.
I wish I knew you more.
Watching every which way you grew.
Up from nothing never going back to where we were before.
Protective of the things to which you care.
It's funny how that works.
Because those are the things that we now share.
A brothers love you've never known.
I'm sure you know now.
You don't ever have to endure it all alone.
Family is a tricky word.
It might not mean much.
But you're part of ours now.
Of this little bit you did touch.
Keep finding Your path
And I'll find my own.
I'm sure we'll meet up again.
In a place we both call home.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Battling myself not to break something.
Insides twisted from head to toe.
Desperate for the anger not to show.
Taking all my will.
Flooding out the gates.
Almost nothing left and still.
Turmoil rising within.
What do I do?
When all I want is to give in.
When ****** isn't enough.
Genocide couldn't keep up.
Anger the deepest black couldnt colour.
If only all my personalities would materialize.
Standing by to ease the pain and shoulder.
The things I cannot.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Eyes like an open window.
Beauty like stained glass.

I look into your eyes
They long to tell me truths.
But your lips only spill a sly ruse.

Stolen in a moment of encapsulation.
Innocent for the entire duration.

Trust running down your face.
Eye liner that can't be undone.
Murky distaste what happened to all that grace.

Telling the truth can be tough.
Everything you are just isn't enough.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Tailored love of indescribable passion.
"Mr grey, my type of love is now in fashion."
You've got this amazing **** that only desires my palm.
Red hand prints.
Excitement that doesn't entirely harm.
Delicate and fine a thong that yearns for my teeth.
Removed and discarded.
After Christmas like that wreath.
******* that only imagine the warmth of hands.
Running all over you.
Following each and all my demands.
Lips supple only to the press of my own.
The way you sound.
Lust you've never known.
Hips that don't exist without the pressure of mine.
Careful what you ask for.
In Pandoras box you might find.

Kisses are like a dance one must lead.
Back and forth battle for more.
I'm dominating its what you need.
I'll certainly put you in your place.
Take head you have no power.
Your place is under me with all that grace.
On top of me so I can see that face.
Where ever I want.
Pulling your hair if it pleases me just an inch more.
What pleases me pleases you.
Of that im sure.
Just to make you feel ***** and alive again.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Time melds together into blurry moments of definable passion.
Bringing about something I thought couldn't happen.
A millennium gone twisted into the ether.
Vanished without a memory.
A trial not meant nor fit for the meagre.

Corporeal vessel of twenty-four.
Eternal souls on the waves of time.
Certainly aged much more.
In these arms of mine.

A thousand times over.
You've breathed your last breath.
Immortal souls together.
We transcend life and death.

We found each other once more.
“I feel like we've known each other forever, have we met in the past?”.
A thousand times over.
Each more longing than the last.

“If your soul could speak of our love, the seas would implode and the skies would burn.”
For that is the true reason your soul cannot learn.

Wiped clean of colossal treasure.
Wealth our people couldn't fathom nor measure.

A thousand times over.
We'll find each other more.
Our passion like time is endless.
Waking up upon the eternal shore.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Mom
I've noticed that the term "Mom" means so little to everyone now, they think "mom" just means "the woman who gave birth to me and tells me what to do."
I'm here to prove how wrong that is.
A mom is so much more than just some woman who controls you, wives and teachers do that too.
A mom is an angel with a shotgun, she can make you feel like you're up above the clouds, but she'll put you in your place to.
A mom is a soldier, she fights all of your battles right by your side and she'll never leave you behind if you fall or get hurt.
A mom is like a counselor you can do talk to about all of your problems and she'll never judge you.
A mom is the greatest friend you could ever ask for, she will gossip with you, go shopping with you, argue with you, laugh with you, and make sure you don't do anything stupid.
A mom is like a tiger, she's fierce, she can be scary, but she protects her cubs with her life and does everything she can for them.
I don't know about you but my mom is all of these things and so much more, I don't know where I'd be without her. But, I do know one thing for sure, she saved my life. Not only did she create it but she saved it.
I wish I could show her how much she means to me but I'm super bad at that kind of stuff.
So I keep trying to not be as much of a pain in her ***.
I wish everyone could have a mom like mine.
Everyone needs my mom to get them through life because she's the greatest mom I could ever ask for. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you more than you could ever know or even begin to imagine.
There it is again, the craving.
I can feel it crawling under my skin.
The need to feed is too strong,
I can't move.
Not until I have it.
The poptarts put a dent in it,
But it's not enough.
The cereal, better,
It's coursing through my veins.
I can feel myself getting stronger.
The pepsi, it fuels me,
I can do everything now,
No one can stop me.
I will be satisfied for now, maybe an hour.
Then the urge will return and the cycle will start again.
This poem was about my mom because she has a problem.
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