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Our hearts weigh more
when they are broken,

Our minds expand
when they are awoken.

Our souls can be felt
when they are shattered,

Our hearts, minds
and souls are fragile
when they've been battered.

They can be mended
with love and care,

With strength and faith
and with some valuable prayer.

We can learn
from all of our pain,

With our lessons
we can stand tall again.

Showing ourselves
some needed compassion,
patience and love,

Seeking salvation
from God above.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
 Jul 2017 brittany smith
ryn
.
Will you say something?
Just before I go...

Will you fill the void
that had silently metastasised?

Will you convey it
like you really mean it?

Will you allay my fears
that's been cleverly disguised?


.
She found me,
Yes She did.
I called out to her,
She answered.
And now
I don't want to go
Anywhere.
I know I am home.

Am so stock on you
Like glue,
Clinging on you,
As if I want to fall,
but I am reassured,
by your love,
you possess this heart,
as your very own.
My heart is at rest.

I hear the drums of
your heart,
beating!,beating!!,beating!!!
calling out to me.
As it's melodic rhythm
vibrates  all over my being,
I know I am home.
She calls me Beloved.
And for the first time
In a long time,
I am Happy.
© 2017,Emeka Mokeme.All rights reserved
This clock smokes a cigarette
     that tucks itself into my nest of a jaw
          acting as a memento of my most cherished flaw.
I can hear Fool's Paradise calling to me;
     it's hollow promises idle above me until I fail to remember
          whether this is a wedding or a funeral releasing it's doves to me.
You're a modern desolate suicide
     with your insides filled with fearful and uneasy pesticides.

I'm too exhausted to lose it.
     and too inferior to choose it.
and the restless clock stays awake impassively with your ballad
     like a phantom of my pallid heart which feels eternally invalid.
I pace past pit stops but I never eat
     when I've lasted this long already.
You're a modern romantic suicide
     with a heart that has hung itself out to dry.

Sometimes my heartbreak brakes,
     snarling as it painstakingly falters like the moon at daybreak;
          stumbling across a canvas to its haunted nest
               and sleeping beneath these ten-thousand lakes.  
I won't let the shine blast my shade.
I won't let the darkness begin to fade.
I won't let the sparkle ride my mind.
You're so rustic and piously unkind.

Paramour, you're not abandoned yet.
You're scrutinizing yourself and you're far too unfair.
You've got your crown all tangled up
     and I wish I could make you care.

No Paramour, you haven't been abandoned yet.
It doesn't matter all you've endured.
It doesn't matter all you've observed;
     sentimental daggers still seem to lacerate your brain.
I've acquired my fair share of knives,
     I'll guide you through the pain.
You're not abandoned.

So abandon me when you're not alone.
Let's abandon me so you're not alone.
Give me your fists because you're staggering.
Let me hold you still because you're staggering.
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