Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Aug 2015 Vivek Rao
Kelley A Vinal
On the clouds
I lie
Candlelight
Illuminates the night like
a firefly
I am deep, far-fallen
into the land of sleep
Mars' volcanic activity
Giving light 
To my dreams

I am calm
Since they crippled me,
I thought I’d grow wings.
Though I don’t remember how it felt when I first walked
But I still remember my last walk.
I still remember how the grass felt under my naked feet
I remember putting on shoes the last time I walked
I remember running and being taller.
These are now just my memories
And since they crippled me,
I thought I’d grow wings.

Am I diseased that you’re treating me ?
Did I do something wrong that you’re looking down on me ?
Am I a helpless animal that you’re showing me pity ?
You think you’re being empathetic but its still sympathy
But the wind against my face is a symphony
As I grow wings
To feel the wind in my hair
To feel the equivalent of running
I feel the fresh air fill my lungs
Even though I am crippled,
I grew wings.

Since I grew wings,
I can see the crippled me
Lying there in peace and in silence.
I can finally see the smile that had been lost
Since they had crippled me.
  Aug 2015 Vivek Rao
Mitch Prax
Like the sun,
she brightens up my day
Always there, never far away
Like Mercury,
She’s scorched with beauty
A dazzling image for all to see
Like Venus,
A goddess in my mind
A divine gift for all mankind
Like Earth,
Her heart is where I make my home
An aura so real, I never feel alone
Like Mars,
Her hair, it runs with red
she annihilates any tear I shed
Like Jupiter,
She has the largest heart
She herself: a work of art
Like Saturn,
Beauty surrounds her like a ring
So light and divine, almost floating
Like Uranus,
She goes against the grain
Free from the world, she breaks the chain
Like Neptune,
Her passion rages like the wind
she sets out like a storm to rescind
Like Pluto,                  
So distant but never forgotten
Dancing for eternity around the sun
From pleasure of the bed,
Dull as a worm,
His rod and its butting head
Limp as a worm,
His spirit that has fled
Blind as a worm.
Vivek Rao Aug 2015
Many a time in life he thinks,
of how well to society he links.
Sometimes a COWARD,
sometimes a SHRIMP,
always a loser,
never does he win.

Unable to relate, he wanders around
places unknown; maybe homeward bound,
but knoweth he not, to where belongs,
that is a place nowhere to be found.

— The End —