Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The Guardian Sep 2018
She Cuts Too Deep
Gypsy grant her wish and take her away
She cuts too deep, her riptide veins are dry like Spanish wine

The world brings pain to her shed, she cries too much her salted tears killed her mother's favorite flower.

Her pillow speaks ill of her, she sleeps no more. Her entwined stomach grows lonely, full of rage she eats no more.

She's lost in the dark, lost in the delicate night's of September. Gypsy show her a glimpse of light, show her where words of wisdom are written.

Her eyes are starring at the galaxy from far, she's trapped in the clouds isolated from the treacherous crowds.

She cut's too deep the ground is familiar with the taste of her bone marrow, Azrael sticks around but the pills won't go down fast enough.

Gypsy grant her wish and take her away
Take her to a place of sonnet's, a place of rhythm and rhyme, a place of poet's.
Azrael- The God Of Death
The Guardian Sep 2018
Funny How My Heart Feels Safer When You Hold It, Like You Are Not The One Who Broke It.
The Guardian Sep 2018
It tears me up
It's all wrong, but it's all right

I'm crushing on you, And as much as I knew
Thinking about you was never new

Exhausted as I cry
Head up to the sky
I hardly thought of you thigh.

Like diamonds at night
Your eyes sparkle bright
It tears me up, but still it's love at first sight.

When will you notice??
That my eye has a motive, I feel hopeless and you know these

Poor girl
The beautiful black pearl
Little did she know, she put out a show.
It tears me up
But I have little more to say
Thou my strength seem to decay, I will still wait for the day

Pleading for a lovers fee, I know saying it is free
Love at first sight, deeper than the sea, please know I love thee.
The Guardian Sep 2018
"Congo mend her pain for she has mourned enough for her husband.

Congo feed the old man's  kids for his hands are tied.
Congo help her grandson he's been taken for slavery.
Congo your children.
Congo your land.
Congo your people.
Congo your riches.
Congo the natives.
Congo send her to sleep for her mind has been over flooded by the unbearable nightmares.
Congo your son has been arrested for wearing a suit. Congo the priests are being killed for spreading the word of the almighty.
Congo mothers are being ***** while men are getting killed Congo he's bleeding and you are fading.”



-Andile Ashanti
600 E M O T I O N S In 1 Poem
The Guardian Sep 2018
I Chose My Poison Long Before Without A Reason, I Dunk My Tongue Too Deep And Now The Taste I Keep.

Infected By The Venom Of A Vicious killer.
I trusted But At The End Of The Day He Was The One With The Gun, The One Who Pulled The Trigger.
  Sep 2018 The Guardian
Marigolds Fever
The Stream
Carries the mighty twig along
Through its winding turns
Gets stuck under a rock
But not for long
When the fisherman comes
And pushes it to the dock
There it hangs out
For awhile
Making new Friends
Near the wet branch pile
Some are thick
Some are thin
Some are cracked
And some are its twin
A sudden big splash
The kids have jumped in
Off the twig goes
Where it ends up
It does not know
Entwining with another twig
Around each lily pad
Like perfectly aligned dancing feet
That must have been meant to meet
Together they move swiftly through the water
Stuck underneath some large kelp
Its liked friend is there to help
Over the mini waterfalls they flow
Never really know which will let go
Eventually it starts to pour
And a wave crashes them to a shore
Together they are not no more
One transcends to a useful walking stick along the ridge
The other becomes part sandcastle bridge
Stopped serving their purpose
They did not
At midnight they are tossed back in
Rough waters ahead
They start to spin
Mighty twigs gave it their best shot
And then they began to slowly rot
The Guardian Sep 2018
I wrote a poem when I was sad
Derived from all my emotions a pen was all I ever had.
Next page