Added to the ******,
Two tears flow alike.
Washing, dashed away,
Demons play 'Armored Knights'-
Down the drain, floods the worry,
Unworthy until royalty courses.
They've attempted sieging you,
Galloping on horded horses.
Like monsters inside out,
Their acts slashed you private.
Forever cut up in armor,
A hero proclaiming violence-
An old poem fixed up
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
War
Conceal amnesiac eyes with a hood,
Maybe nights fall oddly placid.
Sleep could collapse its resistance,
Crumble sunlight into ashes.
Nightmares internally unravel,
Soldiers fought, already lost.
Invasive thoughts occurring,
Arising ice, I can't defrost.
This complexion leaves me perplexed,
Battling behind my forehead.
I can't evade this hopelessness,
I've pled, go back to bed.
Sunsets settled maniacal,
Malnourished; give me a mask.
Because all I ache for is sleep,
To possess what life I'd had-
This is a really old poem, completely redone.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
I ventured among a forest,
With aisles of defiant trees,
A vile scene forseen,
Before my thoughts shrieked in my chest.
A blended, vented ground,
So idle, centered, severe,
Life fends off genetic fear,
The leaves seared me profound.
Broken branches tied to family,
Constantly pounding,
Painfully counting,
I'm bottled up daily.
I pray, tear me apart,
Violence is penned out less,
But it's more a silent mess,
When it bound, and disposed my heart-
Another older poem, fixed up and redone.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!
My pain is not a poem,
my poetry isn't poetic.
It's cryptic and a message,
cutting up and breaking
branches. Comprehensive;
my poems are suicidal, files of
medications and prescriptions
are seemingly all my mind
can write. Jumping to conclusions
and indenting my addictions,
inflicting this confliction, convictions
I don't mention. Those rhymes that
I have wrote; it was the drowning as I broke,
a broken draft of notes, that sing:
 "you'll never learn to float,"
Acid, or is it water?  
I'm hoping for the latter,
well I guess it never mattered,
years doubled and I'm sadder.
When does it get better?  
When do I get better?  
I guess it never will, and I'm
home but I'm not here,
I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck,
and all my heart
can pump is tears-
All feedback is appreciated and welcome!
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