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Death, thou was once an uncouth hideous thing,
Nothing but bones,
The sad effect of sadder grones,
Thy mouth was open, but thou could not sing

For we considered thee as at some six
Or ten years hence,
After the loss of life and sense,
Flesh being turned to dust, and bones to sticks

We looked on this side of thee, shooting short;
Where we did find
The shells of fledge souls left behind
Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort

But since our saviors death did put some blood
Into thy face;
Thou art grown fair and full of grace,
Much in request, much sought for as a good

For we do now behold thee gay and glad,
As at dooms day;
When souls shall wear their new array,
And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad

Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust
Half that we have
Unto an honest faithful grave;
Making our pillows either down, or dust.
I will ride this horse
Until I'm shot down
And even then I will
Crawl along the ground
Until I lift my eyes
And I can see that right
Has won the battle
Against greed and might.

I will pull myself up
Through blood and pain
Until not one square mile
Of hatred will remain.
I will call out those who
Label villainy other names
And strive to make them see
That evil is just the same.

Up to that precious day
I will never rest quietly
Until peace in our world
Shall lie and rest beside me,
Until this will come to pass
I, the discontented messenger,
Will point the way to integrity,
And be its constant harbinger.
moonshine overflows
from night's infinity pool.
rare are such delights.
a dark night schlep
and parasitic flies make zombie bees;
this joy of flight in honey delight

why his orbit tilts wide that
never bona fide her legs
till it catches them niggling there
and thrive behind a seance in plight

as their mutation is austere
yet circumcise this oblate mission
with a meadowlark's songs of vamp.
The nights zombie bees lay eggs of  parasitic files.
 Jul 2017 Bianca Reyes
Shylah S
no, I'm not talking about the ones with big noses
or greasy hair

not the ones with bad breath
or round bellies

no, I just like them raw
a little broken, a little sad

the ones with scars
a story to tell

I sure know how to pick em' you might say
but I'd never give them up any day

a whole adventure in a person like the outdoors
one with canyons and mountains he would let me explore
only ugly guys give themselves all at once
no parts hidden, everything is exposed

vulnerability is thought to be a weakness but in reality it's bold

I like ugly guys.
So go out there and be real, often we hide because we fear getting hurt. But in that fear we miss out on the world, we miss out on living, and worst of all, love. So even if we may get bruised, get to the lowest of the low, you'll one day stumble upon something that embraces you as you are, something that cherishes your ugliness unconditionally, something that inspires you to be better, whether that be a passion, a person, or something as simple as a smile. Is it really worth hiding if you miss on the chance to experience that?

Edit: I am very grateful to everyone who took the time to read my work and am in disbelief a piece of mine chosen as the daily pick for the very first time! This community is amazing :)
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