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 Oct 2016 Arun C
Chameleon
Purple lilacs shedding their petals that drift to the ground with each cool breeze.

Just like the season, I am changing.

Stuck between blue water and green houses,
and chilly days that are orange and yellow.

Even though lately I've been stuck behind a filter of grey that far too often turns black.

I am Alice falling down the rabbit hole, watching all of these colors swirl around me, yet unable to grab onto one.

So I'll just enjoy the breeze on the way and hope that where ever I end up is more beautiful than where I am now.
 Oct 2016 Arun C
echo
I would write your name on my heart
But one day it may fail
I would carve your name into trees
But one day they may fall
So I'll just write your name on the Internet
*Because nothing we ****** say on there
Can ever be erased.
I'm not a very strong swimmer,
I'm trying really hard
to keep my head above the water.

My soul is exhausted,
my body and my mind
are going through absolute torture.

Me, panicking,
makes it even harder
to stay afloat...

I ain't going out like this!
Hell no!!
I ain't going out on this note!

I'll keep trying to swim
through the rising swells and waves,
I'll paddle and backstroke
my way back to shore,

I'll do what a survivor does,
I'll keep swimming
until I just can't swim no more.

I'm usually as warm and bright
as a little ray of sunshine...

But, lately,
I can't even seem to radiate
as much light as the dimmest glare
of moon shine.

I've been a warrior
all of my life,
my history is my proof,

But I'm not as strong as I once was,
I'm not as resistant as I was in my youth.

I'm gonna make it back to shore.
And if I happen to lose my pen
along the way...
I'll be alright!

I'll write my message in the sand
using my finger - in hope that God in heaven
will read it, and bestow upon me
some mercy, by shinning upon me
some much needed courage,
strength, and light.

By Lady R.F ©2016
I wrote this desperate piece when I left HP.
I wasn't going to post it. It was written only as a release for my emotions (self-therapy) but what the heck! ...here it is.
 Oct 2016 Arun C
Ja
YOURS & MINE
 Oct 2016 Arun C
Ja
I am a son
You are a daughter
We’re not related
But, it doesn’t matter

I am a father
You are a mother
We each have a child
Just, not with each other

I love and cherish mine
As I’m sure you do yours
And yet somehow
This hatred of others occurs

Love does not discriminate
We know that it endures
If, I can love a child of mine
I can also, love a child of yours
BOEMS BY JA 581
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