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 Apr 2014
D Jean B
How does a mother explain to a daughter
That the father she has loved-
The man who took the young girl in his arms to teach her how to dance in the musty attic, the father who sang her to sleep when the nightmares turned to terrors, the dad who taught her that laughter is the cure to everything;
How does a mother tell her daughter he chose a drink over his princess?
A gulp of liquid death whose fire burned
Not only down the throat,
But in the lives of the prisoner who that devil caught.
How did she tell her?
No words.
No mention of why daddy had fallen in that attic,
No saying that he'll come back.
No one ever told me that the reason I wake up screaming is from the dreams that can't be quieted without him. No mother told me that the wonderful man I remember, full of love and life had been drowning in his own choices. No it was left to a journal found way deep in a box for a young girl to come find.
And now the fire is not pouring down a throat,
Nor in the attic of that once life-full home.
That fire is in his little girl, who forgot how to dance and whose dreams still haunt her, the one who forgot what it means to laugh.
 Apr 2014
Catherine Paige
She thinks you light up the sun.
You think she turned on the stars.

She adds beauty to life already grand.
You make her happy in a way she hasn’t been.

She’ll be loyal.
She’ll be loving.
She is broken.
She is learning.

You’ll be funny.
You’ll be musical.
You are different.
You are needed.

She is…
You are…

In love.
This was written in 2006.
 Apr 2014
Mike Hauser
The jealousy of poetry
Stirs like a vengeful heart
Takes the rhyme from out the reason
Leaves behind the bitter parts

Takes a hold the dreams of old
Sends them on their way
Giving back slight glimpses
Of the thoughts you've had of late

Clinging tight to the lines that bite
In jealous fits of rage
The jealousy of poetry
Pours out on the written page

— The End —