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On this lovely September morn
It's time for congratulations
Into this world a child is born
Lets raise a glass in celebration.

He starts his world with lulabbys
Parents are there with a guiding hand
To help to see that he gets by
Untill on his own he can make a stand.

But that is many years away
No need to think so far ahead
All that matters is this lovely day
As mother is resting in her bed.

But tomorrow will be another day
With his first steps on life's road
A world that that will be full of play
The future no one knows.

So let's take in this special time
Where all the family gather round
Mother and newborn are doing fine
She smiles when hearing his very first sound.
My wife's wife best friends daughter in law gave
Birth to a baby boy September 20th .she asked me to write a poem
So I wrote this poem .I hope you like it.
 Sep 2018 Rain
Eleanor Sinclair
Here I am laying, filling my head
At 3 A.M rerunning every word I have said
I suppose my tears are the blood from my soul
Happy or sad it overflows out of me and I can’t seem to feel whole
I don’t want to die anymore because things aren’t too bad
But I’m tired constantly and I miss my mom and dad
That’s the thing about being an adult
You make the tough decisions yourself and if they’re wrong it’s your fault
You choose right from wrong and no one is there to tell you otherwise
No one is there to catch you in your lies or wipe the stream of tears from your eyes
Momma isn’t there to hold your hair when you *****
Daddy isn’t there to point to the sky at the comets
It’s more like a hollow and dark lonely place
Days feel like years yet weeks seem to race
I suppose we take for granted our youthful state
We don’t know what we have until it’s a little too late
I’d give anything to go back to a day before loans
Spend a day with my family before I wanted to become skin and bones
Give my brother a hug and tell him I care
Tell my father that the things he calls my mother are wrong and unfair
Play with my dog before the cancer took him away
Show up to work with enthusiasm as though it was my first day
See my town like I did through an adolescent lens
Bike through my neighborhood to the house that once was my friend’s
Run in the yard and climb that one crooked tree
Relive the trip to the forest that ended with bees
Laugh at myself when I fell off my bike
Not take myself so seriously and be willing to admit who’s right
Tell my sister “thank you” for yelling at me to not speak English
She kept me fluent and that was her wish
Go trick or treating from door to door
“Here’s some candy, would you like some more?”
My eyes fill with liquid nostalgia as they sparkle and close
My head bobs and nods as I catch it then doze
I miss the world before it got complex
Before I had to worry about what came next
I’d live for a day at the age of ten
Before things began to hurt and I was mistreated by men
I’d watch the stars with Jessica and talk about life
I’d give her a hug after a sleepover and get back on my bike
Pedaling home in the cool fall breeze
Everything was simpler back then and I took it for granted with ease
I wish to go back to a time almost half my life ago
I wake from my sleep to realize it can't be so
 Aug 2018 Rain
Persephone
Standing on top the waters edge
I dream of lands too far
Of wishful castles dripping with knowledge
And flying fairy contraptions that wing across glimmering oceans
I wander about looming buildings sculpted by giants
And stars that ponder them from above
I hope for twisting tales connected to dragons
And dandelion dancers beckoning you to love
I imagine rain cloud laughter
And a time where the impossible believes in us
I breathe for the days that this land will come
And if I am ohh so lucky it might welcome me home
 Aug 2018 Rain
Eleanor Sinclair
I miss my beam of sunshine tonight
My tears on the pillow reflect penetrating moonlight
Howling and wailing like a rabid creature
How did everything happen to break away so I could no longer reach for you
O’ my sunshine where did you go
My plagued dreams are now full of woe
I miss you more than the winter snow misses the land
The same way I miss the smooth touch of your hand
My days are dark without you around
I still wail to the moon like a lonesome hound
I fell for you harder than I should have allowed
Now instead it’s reversed and at your feet I have bowed
I miss you too much and I’m in so much pain
 Jul 2018 Rain
Call me bella
Cats
 Jul 2018 Rain
Call me bella
I love cats,
They always tell the truth.
If they don’t love you
They won’t pretend.
 Jul 2018 Rain
Melissa Rose
Too full
 Jul 2018 Rain
Melissa Rose
Blue skies
Warm winds
The sun glistening
on my winter skin
Trees lengthen branches
and sprout their wings
A joyful birdsong echoes
in a sea of green
Bees lustfully caressing
flowers in bloom
Young lovers falling
deeply
into a swoon
Summertime energy
Is all around
But the emptiness inside
has already filled me
to the brim
6/25/18 #deepsadness #trauma #healing #writingsoothes
 Jul 2018 Rain
Melissa Rose
They say I have courage
But I’m living a lie
Voices from years past
fuel the terror inside

There’s room to grow
“Just surrender, just let go”
You’re not living in the past
It’s not your home

The outside world
Looks different, that’s true
but the story inside
will never let me break through

Painful lessons
Just coping to survive
and now you’re suggesting
I have the courage to thrive!

You may think you see
great potential in me
but the truth is
I will never be free

Not until I see
Great potential in me
and the truth is
Maybe I’m just too terrified
to be free
6/30/18
 Jul 2018 Rain
R
Proud
 Jul 2018 Rain
R
They tell me to be proud,
but little do they know that Pride is a deadly sin and even deadlier if I walk through the wrong alleyway.

They tell me to be confident,
but little to they know that hands-in-my-pockets-hunched-over has hid me my whole life.

They tell me to be loud,
but little do they know that disappearing quietly has kept me alive all these years.

They tell me to speak up,
But little do they know that masking who I am has allowed me to move in this world
As If I Am Free.

They tell me to be proud but pride is confidence and confidence is being loud and being loud is speaking up and speaking up

is

Dangerous? Dangerous.

They tell me it's okay,
they'll be fine,
But how could they know? They haven't
faced the fear of knowing the unlimited know -

- Secrets spilled as blood over middle school halls -

They tell me to be proud.

They tell me to be proud, as if
confirming the masses can fix all that I've broken -

-Silent shards over ***** linoleum -

They tell me to be proud.

They tell me to be proud and I nod,
breaking glass and spilling blood and
maybe one day I will.

Maybe one day I'll speak up
loud and confident,
the terror of facing them left behind, my
shining clean face proud.

But until then,
They tell me to be proud.
They say and tell and demand me to be proud.
They tell me to be proud.

Dangerous? Dangerous.
Deadly? Deadly.
Shards.
Sins.

Pride.
Shoutout to Those People Who Make Me Write This Poem. You know who you are.
 Jul 2018 Rain
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 Jun 2018 Rain
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
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