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  Jan 2019 Ben At93
Jack
Here above the spider’s bed
Balanced on a tiny thread
Soft the sound his cello plays
In harmony with summer days
~
Melodically he moves his bow
In mystic motioned rhythm’d flow
O’ the cast of crescent moon
Illuminates his wondrous tune
~
A thousand dragonflies appear
His cello sound they long to hear
Now as he plays this mellow song
A cricket choir sings along
~
The audience in grand delight
Embrace the magic on this night
For as all earth has come to know
No sweeter sound than his cello
  Jan 2019 Ben At93
ryn
What's my worth?
Am I worth a second glance?
Till present, from birth
Am I deserving of chance?

What's my value?
Am I worth time spent?
What did I do?
Did I squander the life lent?

What are my virtues?
Do they even shine through?
Do I put them to good use?
Or useless like a pair less shoe?

What defines me?
Is it the words that write?
Or work I do diligently?
Could it be my punches in a fight?

What have I done?
Take your time to think
Did I do it with a loaded gun?
Must've done something; must've missed the link

What am I good for?
Important work or menial labour
Could have I done more?
Achieved alone or together

Do I think differently?
Indulge in fairytale notions
Is it sheer folly?
To believe in magic potions

Am I just silly?
Do I dream too much?
Accept reality
Am I capable of such?

Do I shirk what I carry?
Should I have said no?
Did I delay and tarry?
Have I nothing to show?

Am I wrong to feel?
Is it foolish to want?
When it all is real
Now bearing the brunt

Do I wear you weary?
With my endless stupor
Why can't I bury?
Before we expire

Why do I wallow?
Wading through eye puddles
Should I just burrow?
Deep into these riddles

Why do I falter?
Why can't I heal and rise?
Why do I break and shatter?
How do I stop my eyes?

What is this dense forest?
Must everything be obscure?
Can I not be honest?
Can I not be insecure?

Could I be any more random?
Asking as they come to mind
Have I compromised my decorum?
Have I been blind?

Should I delve even deeper?
May I go on and ask?
Am I worthy of an answer?
Or should I just don my mask?

Gargantuan was my crime
Thick was its girth
Absolution this time?
Of it am I worth?
  Jan 2019 Ben At93
Jordan Rowan
Put your thoughts in a magic box
Press return and set them off
Do not expect them to be revised
Or to be read like they were in your mind
And when double vision comes into your eyes
Don't cry
They all just want to watch you die

The highest minds are on the bottom line
Running across your screen into the divine
Sweat drips onto the microphone
As the talking heads say you're not alone
For every point of view has its place to crawl to
Just like you
We all want love and nothing new

I wish I could meet my conscience then
When it was as clean as the state I'm in
And for every moment I've been alive
It fills up more with truth and lies
The Wings of the West fly high over the horsemen sky
And wave goodbye
To what we've built since we arrived
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