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Sara Kellie Mar 2021
Woke up this morning,
looked a right fright.
One eye on my forehead,
the other lay squinting,
on the pillow on my bed.

Chin on my right breast,
tongue on my left.
I looked like I'd had
a ******* cardiac arrest.

You shouldn't paint someone while they're sleeping
Sara Kellie Mar 2021
with dice in our pockets
and places to see.
Hope in our hearts,
a bright future forsee.

Rock paper scissors,
agreement was made.
We'd ride on the bus
to play games in arcade.

In the ponds and the bogs,
There were tadpoles and frogs.
By the bushes and thicket,
we'd play football or cricket.

With time on our hands,
like a slowing of sands.
A keeper we'd pick
with a showing of hands.

Playing until too dark to see,
only then would we return
for tea.

With mercury fillings
and gaps in our teeth.
Saving what money
to spend on a wreath.

Things were different back then
Sara Kellie Mar 2021
Wear your muzzle
and do not protest!
Attendance with others
will end in arrest.
So, keep your mouth shut
and toe our line,
Failure to do so will end
in a fine.

Your freedom is gone
for you're just a pawn.
In this game we play,
human rights are withdrawn.

Predictively programmed
your mind now is ours.
You entered a ballot,
relinquished your powers.

When all said and done
this is your own fault.
Industrial complex,
I dare you revolt.

Welcome to your dystopian future.
Sara Kellie Mar 2021
I caught a glimpse,
a butterfly net.
Your beauty destroyed
placard beauty, beset.
Flayed wings and
long body at rest,
all to see.
Why can't they
just leave you to

Sara Kellie Jan 2021
Where is it that you find your wonder?
'neath the rainclouds with pitchfork
collecting lightning,
in thunder?
******* is king,
Ecstasy queen.
Phet is my thing
with morning caffeine.
Six days and five nights,
the things that I've seen.
The rabbits and spiders
in the *** noodle canteen.

Where is it that you find your wonder?
'neath the sun with secateurs
collecting the fruits
of agriculture.
Health is king,
love is queen.
In this new life,
sober this spring.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Old ways. New ways
Sara Kellie Jan 2021
This pressure cooker,
supposedly life.
Scrambling to meet
a husband or wife.
Missing the things,
needed the most.
slipping from life,
becoming a ghost.
I've got potato,
bring me some leek.
I'll put it together,
await your critique.

So . . .

Lets do soup together.
Today, tomorrow.
Maybe forever.

Missing the simple things
Sara Kellie Nov 2020
Nothing lost is something won
in that awkward moment
between birth and death.

It wasn't meant to be a micro
poem but it just . . .
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