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Noah Rein Aug 2019
Life is like a game of chess
Your status dictates where you get to go,
But when you think yourself a queen,
It’s hard to get a no.

When you’re in fact a pawn,
And get to play as king,
You’ll let the power get to your head,
And the country you will wring.

You hear them groaning,
Under your weight,
You hear whispers of impeachment,
In every state.

You’ve cut your voters,
Down by half,
You yell “we’ll buy Greenland!”,
And you’ll hear Denmark laugh.

There’s nothing to do
You’ve lost them all
And it all started when you stood up and yelled
“We’ll build a big wall!”
Noah Rein Aug 2019
The skies were burning
And the ground lay barren
But still, we walked.

The ice was melting
And the oceans rising,
swallowing rich and poor alike.

We walked in a slow and steady pace,
away from all facts and logic,
as if we could outrun the truth.

and as the world collapsed around us
we worshipped nature, as if she was our god,
and the present time, our church.

But it does no good to have a church of corruption,
nor to preach pretty lies to willing ears.

It does no good to deem yourself innocent,
when you’ve already been caught in the crime and sentenced to misery.

And when we finally realized
that it was time to run
time ran out and stood still
and all we could do was watch the consequences of our actions unfold.
Noah Rein Aug 2019
‘I just need time’
Is a thing I say pretty often
But the thing is
I approach everything with caution

I’m not spontaneous
I can’t just jump into new things
I know it’s weird
But I need to know what each day brings

Every new thing
is a mountain for me climb
So I just need to plan ahead
You see, I just need time
Noah Rein Aug 2019
Red, like the blood that runs in our veins

Orange, like the shirt that I ‘accidentally’ took because I secretly like the way it smells like you

Yellow, like the sun that’s dancing across your face, highlighting your freckles as you smile

Green, like the grass we lay on while your old radio plays a slow hum of music out across my yard

Blue, like the ocean we swim in, clothes and secrets left on the shore

Purple, like the butterflies I get in my feet whenever I get near you, tripping over myself as I dance around confusing emotions
Noah Rein Aug 2019
I.
Rain hits the roof and with a shattering bang, like a canon being fired, I am thrown back into reality


II.
Back into a world I have attempted to escape for so long. Into a gruesome realization that I am not unique.


III.
I am not witty or original. I am one of many in the loop, and how could I not let that define me? When in my final hours, as I face a hard truth, I shall have that realization alone and ask myself the final question; where shall I be born next.
Noah Rein Aug 2019
The day I’m defined by the materialistic value of my poems, is the day I will no longer write them
I will write for the ones who will listen
Noah Rein Aug 2019
Dark grey contrasting against marble white.
Clouds parting just enough to make room for pale blue sky.
The light a promise, that this too shall pass.
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