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Bones threaded with silence,
a weft of unseen tides,
drowned before the sky could murmur,
names twisted into half-light.

Empty calls carve through marrow,
a dissonance stitched in the flicker
of unspoken skies,
twisting where shadows breathe.

Flesh frays in the void of mouths
that never opened—
rusted hums too thin to grasp.

Skin unthreads,
and what remains burns in the air
like a scream that cannot form.

Dust to dust—
the thread severed
in half-thoughts,
too distant to bleed,
too numb to remember.
Witnesses of all time.
On holy grounds they are.
Many people laid to rest everywhere over millions of years.
Living further in green suits,
majestic and tall.
In all shapes and forms.
People come and go.
Look at them standing now.

Forest full of green
Our ancestors watching.
Giving us oxygen to breathe.
Handle it with care.


Shell✨🐚
Realize the worth of nature. We are part of it.
Destroy it and we destroy ourselves.
Wilt clots in the folds,
petal-blush drips bruised and sweet,
beauty—too full, spills.

Pretty birds in a cage
Little birds in a rage
Red, yellow, green and blue
All bonded like a glue
They try, cry and weep
They fly and forget the creep
Young friends of Earth
Flightless friends from birth
Wish they were never born
Until they eat sweet corn
I don't remember the original poem but I tried to write something out of a stanza
Not a beat is skipped
Or a doubt held within
These hearts are open
Our words are true
We hold no worries
Because we have each other
We fret at nothing
Because we know we will get through
if imperfections make art,
the skin and your face is anything but art,
but i can't find any better artwork,
then yourself.
but then you're not created by humans,
but by God,
whose creations are perfect as they are.
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