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Amy Childers Mar 2019
Hello to all that write under the stone cold moon.
Hello to all of the broken hearts and the judged.
Hello to the chubby girls who stare at porcelain dolls.
Hello to the normal boys who dream of being important.

YOU ARE IMPORTANT AND DON'T FORGET IT!

This may sound cliche but it is all about what is in inside that counts.
I am not usually the one to believe in fate our destiny but I do believe that
We are all special and that we should let it shine.

Please let your soul shine and never let anyone extinguish that light.
Amy Childers Mar 2019
I saw no retribution, except for the outcasts and the coyotes.
I received retribution because I belong with them.
I am not an outcast.
So I must be a coyote.

I am not great like my relatives the wolves.
I am not feared because of my small size.
I am a symbol of selfishness, greed, and deceit.
I am small and cowardly because I fear the society we live in today.

Must I be a coyote and must I bear this retribution?

I just want to be wanted and
HUMAN
But I have a coyote soul . . .
Amy Childers Mar 2019
Who decided that the rose should be picked and treasured
By mere human hearts?
Did the universe reach down from the stars and pluck
The fair rose and tear it to pieces?
Who decided that the rose was more beautiful than all the flowers
And that none shall be more beautiful?
Did the universe decide that they should place this flower on
Earth so that humans can destroy its beauty?

I believe that the rose should belong in the galaxy.
There it could be treasured by
Wanderer's eyes and will never be plucked by envied hands.

The rose of the universe.
Amy Childers Mar 2019
I hate you.

I hate everything about you.

I hate how you think that you can knock me down and threaten me.
I hate how you think that I need you and that I am not resourceful.
I hate how you think that I will not make it on my own.

I am strong. I am smart. I will get through this. Even if I have to leave you and My loved ones behind.
Amy Childers Mar 2019
My tar pit heart
Holds all of the souls of
my loved ones.
I watch them gasp for air
But they drown in my
Tar covered sorrow.

I am sorry . . .
Amy Childers Mar 2019
I feel like a broken clock.
I always want to move forward but I go 10 minutes back.
I hang on the white wall with red dots and tick to the beat of my dead heart.
When someone notices I am telling the wrong time they
Drop me in the box that
Is labeled

Rejects . . .

Then one day they take me out of the box
And hang me on the wall again.

Like a broken record they do this sick cycle again and
                                                                              again and
                                                                                      again and
                                                                                                   again . . .
Amy Childers Mar 2019
I
did
 not realize
   how much you
     meant to me until the
    tear ran down my face and
      into your endless and black  
     oblivion. Too bad I had to
    let you go without a
     goodbye. . .
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