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  May 2017 Leory Santana dawn
Laci
His bitterness fed the storm
Unsure and forgotten
She sought shelter amongst the clouds
Trapped in his image

Picturesque essence of used to be
Lost gypsy girl
Flowers blossom upon your lips
Listen to the whispers

Painted toes
Foot prints upon the sun
Leave your lipmark for tomorrow
Where the dew lingers

Crash upon an emerald sea
Summer sweet down pour
Cloud wanderer
The wind remembers

Briary trap of content
Wildfire soul
To find direction
  May 2017 Leory Santana dawn
Cinzia
These words don't belong to you
or me

They come from down deep
From the low guttural rumblings
Of our sleeping planet

They come on the wind
as it flies into your ears and eyes
forcing you to take that deep breath: inspire

They come, gently, from the trees
whispering the song of the season
as you stroll beneath their branches

They come from the heart
as it pumps blood through us tenuously, with a rhythmic beat

They come from the stardust
of a thousand dreamy worlds
drifting slowly through the universe
and out the tips of our pens
A lie  was told
It's free for them
Others spend years paying
To breath cost a lot just as well as sleeping
A lie that was told
We die as they strive to live forever robbing from the innocent, the poor, and the dead

They ****
They take
They lie
They destroy

While we're in ******* for such crimes
A free country
If only my laughter was heard
Where is this free country?

Our rules were founded by criminals
That's even more hilarious
We beg
Give our lives
Make many more sacrifices

They smile
It's a joke to them
A sick joke

A free country for them
We dwell in it

By: Leory Santana Dawn
I fear the thought of failure
my name written in the dirt
spat upon
Standing in line
picked out
like a painting
framed,
ashamed of what..
of who I've become
The mistakes
the bad things
Horrible
Unkind
I look back down
at my name in the dirt
a gravelly scribble
I grab a stick,

*Strikethrough.
Your mistakes make you human.
  May 2017 Leory Santana dawn
allie
My name
Is
Allie

My story
Is
Lost

My past
Is
Absent

And
Me?

*I've vanished.
Sometimes I feel invisible.
I'm just a blank slate in a crowd of people that can shine. And in the crowd? I'm like everyone else: A deserted shell of person.
You know my name

not my story

you've heard what I've done
BuT NOt wHaT I'Ve bEeN ThRouGH
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