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Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
I,m not poet ,not scholar , not perfect at all
I make mistakes often I stumble ,I fall
I read and I write , do the best that I can
But after all ,I'm only human.
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
A call to arms,a call to arms
The peasants rise up from the farms
They're tired of weeding,planting and bleeding
All for their lords wanting not for his needing

All of their lives worked away in the fields
Only for the maybe, occasional meal

Their lives were hard,though they complained not at all
NOW they cry  JUSTICE and FREEDOM for all.
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
The blind man sees with fingertips
Kisses his wife with his lips
Hugs his children in his warm embrace
Never will he see a face

He knows the steps through the house
Cannot see it ,but can hear a mouse

He walks in darkness all the time
At times I think he sees more than  I

Not limited by what he sees
The man who can hear the falling leaves.
Hopfully everyone likes it,
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
Slowly it spins,

my world around me

It twists and it tumbles

like a drunk bumblebee


Falling and stumbling

Inside and out

Upside down

Around and about


Lie in my bed

One foot on the floor

Hope it stops spinning

Can't take anymore

Daybreak,Headache.
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
I'll finally rest now
So I'll bid you Adieu

Pleasant dreams I am wishing
For me and for you

If you wake in the morning
Thank God that you did

For the reaper did not take you
While you slept in your bed.
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
Tired,so tired, my eyelids like lead
I fear if I close them,they won't open again

Why don't I sleep?for fear of the dead?
Are there true Phantoms?or is it all in my head?

I'm closing my eyes now,cannot hold on
Have to sleep sometime,guess that sometime is now

I say goodbye now to all that I know
For if there's no waking,my eyes remain closed

They'll dress me up nice,as they lay me to rest
My eyes won't stay open,so this is my test

Can I slumber in a dreamless state?
Or will they come find me and take me away?
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
Unquenchable thirst,adrift, lost at sea
I let fly my white dove,but returned he to me

No branch of an olive tree, held he in his beak
No sign of land the outlook was bleak

Had I one swallow,one droplet of rain
I still would be miserable,my problems remain

No water,no money,no freeflowing  tears
Can fix what's been broken for so many years

"What can I do?" or "How can I help?"
There is no solution,I know not myself

Time heals all wounds,but a wound there's never been
It's just a day to day struggle ,a struggle within.
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