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Ken Voltaire Mar 2019
It was dark,
And there was rain.
I could barely see the reflection of the lifeless city sky,
In the shallow puddles,
I was passing over.
The pavement,
It took the form of a rough-backed beast,
That wanted nothing but to devour all,
All except me.

I felt lonely.

The world passes on,
And I remain.
Drops of water tap me gently.
I wish it would rain down, hard.
I wish it would rain tears,
So that I knew I wasn't alone.
Ripples, small ripples,
Shake me,
And I feel like I don't matter.
This is kind of a mix of ideas that I want to dedicate to individual pieces, but I thought it might be interesting. Here is a little piece of my brain.
Ken Voltaire Jan 2019
Can there be no balance between what a person can do and what they hypothetically need to do?
Can we not let our children decide for themselves what their futures hold?
Can everyone please respect one another and their decisions?
Can we not remove ourselves from our immense egos and just take it all in for what it is?
Is it impossible for us to feel love for other people due to the blatant fact that they too are human beings who have been hurt, who have loved, who feel and care and try and fail and do all of the things that are so **** human?
We are all we have,
so we better learn to love each other.
It is about time.
Ken Voltaire Jan 2019
Trees whistle solemn tunes,
Clouds roll around in bed together,
And people are scattered sparsely.
The sun has departed,
My heart wavers,
I feel loved?
Ha, hardly.
Ken Voltaire Jan 2019
So cold,
Ash and dust,
Love overcome by lust.
Lost love,
Born of jealousy,
The inability to let go.
Born of darkest parts of the mind that are shown.
Ken Voltaire Jan 2019
If your eyes are oceans,
Then my eyes are ships,
Sailing through turbulent seas.
My sails know where to guide me,
A light shines through even the darkest of times,
A light that you illuminated,
The moment you touched my hand.
Ken Voltaire Jan 2019
Your rose petal lips kiss breezes softly by.
Along your cheeks,
Glassy rivers smoothly glide.
Two bright suns peek out from beneath moonlit sky,
Overlapped with rich darkness,
Beautiful and shy.
From a mountain of the gentlest curve,
A gust of wind comes down,
Scattering your rose petals all around.
Containing all of these wonders,
A valley.
Two crests so very distant,
Come slowly together, down.
Between these crests,
The mountain, the rivers, the roses, breeze, moonlit sky, and suns,
All lie,
And hence is where your beauty can always be found.
Ken Voltaire Dec 2018
You're not quite human you know,
Or,
Maybe,
You are the most human out of anyone,
And all other people are just shells,
Shadows of what could be.
Your body is utterly perplexing,
It folds and bends and stays still,
In ways that my poor mind cannot comprehend.
You aren't quite human,
Or maybe you are the most human of all.
You tell me what you are thinking with a glance,
And nothing more,
Yet I am overcome with understanding.
You think and feel and touch like no other.
Like some celestial being,
You fill me with wonder and hope.
You are not human,
Because you are the most human.
People do not know how to live anymore,
People do not know how to love anymore.
With your great limbs,
Sweep up the remnants of this broken world,
And open our eyes,
To the great gift that is life as a human being
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