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 Feb 2018
Sally A Bayan
I do believe that, people's
breaking moments aren't spectacles,
to be watched like carousels in a carnival,
not free for all(s).....like publc seesaws
anyone rides....sees what comes and goes

my folks' words play in my mind, like a spell
"don't let your eyes stay wet too long, they swell,
one day, those tears will make you unconquerable
your fences and walls ultimately become impregnable."

...but.......there's a truth that's unavoidable
there're days when we're not that invincible
::::::::
sometimes, we melt, we flow
hurt by people's deeds, we don't even know
why.....the days, at times, become too cold,
confusing...other times, painfully bold
we break, we droop............we fall
we realize...we can't always be that tall
::::::::
we become...........frangible
just as breakable
just as fragile
as porcelain
......................................
because
we're human.


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 8, 2017
 Feb 2018
Poetic T
A footstep stood
is better than a step back.
We may leave a deeper print,
but it shows others
                    that's its not easily filled.

And that those that try to fill it,
              have lot more to prove


than the reason of its depth..
 Feb 2018
Pagan Paul
.
For some it is a poetic crime
to ever use an imperfect rhyme.
As the Emperor of enunciation
I embrace differing pronunciation.
So chain not words up in a prison
let them go with their own rhythm.
.

© Pagan Paul (Sept 2015)
.
Old poem I found in a notebook, previously unpublished.
I think I wrote it for another site where there were
a lot of snobbish 'academic' poets.
.
i knew you a while

yet

i did not know you



on eating you snapped

at her/ i stepped back



you apologised later



on caring

you snapped



we stepped back some more



is it the programming?

we choose from the two

reactions



we step back  a little further
 Feb 2018
Claire Hanratty
Nights like this always make me realise that
I'm actually alive, that
I'm a living person and
One day I'll become ash,
Or the nutrients needed to grow a tree and
No one will remember me.

Seeing the sky crash with the waves upon human dearth,
The wings of gulls that carry time and
Meander and glide their way through
Storms of sand,
Makes me feel utterly petrified yet free- and
No one will remember me.
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