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 Jul 2013 Morgan
Anonymous
You used to count your French fries.

One-by-one you made them disappear in a puff of smoke
like a secret slight-of-hand artist,
all the while keeping track of each one,
tucked into your sleeves and inside pockets
so that, in the final gut-wrenching act,
you could bring them all back.

For too long
it was a magic show
with no audience.

In the past months I have watched the show evolve.
No more smoke and mirrors,
or misdirection.
The final act has been cut.
By all accounts the show is much less exciting,
more commonplace.

But I still count.
Every single one.
And silently applaud each now-you-see-it, now-you-don't.

Because I know that the hardest trick,
the mark of a true master,
is making them disappear for good.
 Jul 2013 Morgan
JAM
Law Enforcement
 Jul 2013 Morgan
JAM
Your always quick to tell me to get down, eat the pavement and stay down, but when I need you your no where to be found

Where were you last night when those ******* ran up on my grass
Guns drawn wearing ski-masks

Your quick to stop me when you see a minor mistake
Telling me run in's with you must be my fate
I had to take it upon my self and educate

Now I know exactly what you can and can't do
I have a powerful person in my corner and you realized it soon as I handed their business card to you

Call an audible on your play
The next time you wanna drag me away ***** up my day and tell me what I can and can't say

Rethink your plan before you ******* this intelligent man

I know people that will chop you up and send you home in a box
For a couple hundred dollars new shoes and a pair of socks

Some are good, some are bad, but mostly you all just make me mad... So **** cops!
 Jul 2013 Morgan
bobby bielik
IF THEY ONLY KNEW ME

I found the bashful shy side of myself
In the rear of the room looking lame
Misunderstood, laughed at, put to shame

I stood alone, my voice turned to stone

Still I could see the beauty of myself
For this reason I did not cry aloud
I allowed my mind to fly upon a cloud

I stood alone, my voice turned to stone

None dare to care, they did not ask
Just like all the writing on the wall
I heard my name echo in the hall

BB2012
 Jul 2013 Morgan
JAM
Clay Hearts
 Jul 2013 Morgan
JAM
Hearts get cold
Hearts get hot
Some hearts get sold whether they want to be or not

Hearts can make
Hearts can break
Some hearts will just bleed out creating a blood lake

Hearts beat
Hearts weep
Some hearts are another's we want to keep

Hearts can't speak
Hearts will never say
Some hearts can be molded in many ways
I hold a heart in my hand and it's made of clay...

-J.A.M
 Jul 2013 Morgan
Jay
Puppets
 Jul 2013 Morgan
Jay
Set me on your shelf
With your jars of brushes and paints
With your discarded wooden body parts and broken strings
An unfinished work of art
Until you decide to pick me up and turn me into something

Paint on my eyes
Dull and impatient as I wait for the rest of me
Paint my mouth
Curve it into the smile you so long to see
Paint my eyebrows
Poised to show an unknown emotion to me
Paint my nose
Like the one you used to kiss when you were happy

Set me back on your shelf
Among your broken pieces and wooden boards
Amongst your carving knives
And sandpaper cards
Still unfinished
Waiting for you to finish me in the perfect image

Recreate me
Shape my hips into your favorite position
Make my body unnaturally proportionate
Like a Barbie doll, unhealthy, but 'beautiful'
Then clothe me *******
As you wait to put on a play
Portray me in your favorite ways

Set me, yet again, on your shelf
Among your other beauties
As we wait our turn
To see who will be your next favorite
And we see what we become
As we shift our personalities to fit what you want

Attach my strings
So that you may toy with me
Put me on a stage
For all to see
As you control me
As you hold me
Make me feel things that aren't real
Exhaust my limbs
As they flail across this tiny stage
In accordance with this game we play

I am your puppet
Do with me as you please
This poem is originally about Society and how it controls young women into believing in crazy things. Then I began to think of it as more of a poem about an unhealthy controlling relationship.. I don't know anymore what it is, just thoughts on a page, interpret as you wish(:
 Jul 2013 Morgan
Jay
A Boy's Eyes
 Jul 2013 Morgan
Jay
You've never said you love me
But I've always thought you did
They say you can tell if a boy is in love
By the look in his eyes
But what does it look like

Is it a sparkle when he shows you his favorite things
Or a warmth when he's staring at you
Is it a chilling feeling
As he gazes into your soul
Or is it nothing like that at all
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