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 Nov 2016
Michael LoMonaco
You run at full speed to the finish line,
But you keep falling on the ground,
Injuring your knee and pride.

Life continuously pushes obstacles in your way,
Leading to a feeling of throwing in the towel,
Sick of all the hurdles on the road.

Sitting with dark thoughts creeping up,
Scared of the negative outcome,
Which is the spark for getting up.

Once realizing that survival is the only option,
You grab a firm hold of your cloth,
And run with determination to reach the end.
 Nov 2016
MKF
You have stars behind each eyelid,
And galaxies in your bones.
You are my world,
My whole solar system;
My north, my south, my east, and west
My rising sun and my nightly rest.
I orbit you,
Forever trapped in your gravitational pull.
Wild native branches - A jungle-green canopy sheltering this ever-flowing stream that runs rapidly,
most steadily, to and fro my heart.

Ancient autumn leaves weaved into an intricate, detailed, complex, rustic carpet, concealing paths and footprints leading in and out of my mind.

Forty two springs worth of magnificent arrays of wildflowers decorate each serene scene bordering this stream - each cluster a chapter of my life.

These scattered wild arrangements, with their heavenly scent, delight my senses - they are most pleasing to my mind's eye.

There's gold dust, nuggets, and precious gemstones, hidden in the gravel, they're also buried in the bedrock of this stream, and in the river that it feeds.
This stream is a constant source, feeding my hungry heart and mind.

The river that is fed by this stream
  is my soul - this ever-flowing stream is a corridor which runs to and fro my heart; it carries the oxygen in my blood, through my veins.

Whilst manoeuvering around the stepping-stones that are laid-out sporadically, most beautifully, but imperfectly, across this stream,
THEY, double cross me;
A highway, used to get to where THEY are going, time and time again.

~By Lady R.F ©2016
 Oct 2016
Finley in Despair
I hate my skinny frame
my bony hips and spaghetti appendages
I envy the built lads with guns for arms
those guys that can wow a girl without any charm
I heard that girls like being carried to bed
they'd more likely be able to carry me instead
and maybe that's the reason I never get any head
but jokes aside, this is a problem
men, women, boys and girls
we're all fixated on an image the media has us fed
some of us feel worthless because of our bodies
forgetting our positive oddities
forgetting the perks we have like a beautiful smile
or eyes that given the attention
hold something you haven't seen in a while
a lot of us haven't felt love from ourselves in years
it could bring me to tears
all because when we look ourselves in the mirror
we see imperfection
but let me ask you this; what is perfection?

Is it a man so jacked up on steroids he can't get an *******?
is it a girl so skinny they call her the queen of size zero?
when zero is the number of healthy teeth left in her mouth
from forcing herself to be sick after every meal?
so what is the deal
with this perfection ****?
I've had enough of it, having to listen to the girl I love
saying "oh I'm so fat" well **** me, I've had enough of that
call me unsympathetic call me a ****
I'm done hating myself, I'm learning to bounce back
you are who you are, a poet once told me to be proud of that
and that I am finally, once and for all
I might be skinny and look weak but I'll stand tall
I'm a clever guy, or so I'm told
I've got charm so I'll learn to use it
keep writing the poetry, to me it's sweet music
keep on telling myself
"I can do this, I can do this, I can do this"



**and so can you
.
can't get the structure right on HP format but it's meant to be read aloud anyhoooo
 Oct 2016
David Ehrgott
Do we make compromises for
Our comforts
When we are everywhere
 Oct 2016
David Ehrgott
Yellow, brown, gold, and red.
Colored leaves will soon be dead.
 Oct 2016
PrttyBrd
Fearless dreaming has brought me here
The warmth of spent flesh
asleep in the tides of a fickle moon
a cool breeze in a windowless room
I pull back the sheet slowly
and watch as tiny bumps form in the chill

Peaches and cream perfection
Dare I touch
Dare I risk awakening
The warmth reaches me before I reach the truth
Hesitation and a slow exhale

I have dreamed this dream before
The dream where there is no time, no rules, no distance
I have dreamed of joy and love
I have dreamed this very dream
and as I touch you... I cry

In those moments lost in the union
of love and passion
right and wrong are a blur
on the edges of souls bound in time
Until...
I touch you and
for a moment
you are my truth, my reality, my dream, my life
Gone in the gasp of a waking sun

Dare I risk losing you once more
My heart breaks anew as the new day dawns
But how do I yearn and not sate
Yes, I touch
I love so that I may live in that moment a lifetime

The warmth of your skin greets mine
as you turn to me in your slumber
embracing all I could hope to be
Your comfort with me melts doubt
And I pray that the sun never shines
I pray that this moment is my ever after
That you and I are where we once were
where we should always be

I open my eyes at daybreak
and still feel the warmth of you
I bask before the tears come
I love you more with each moment of perfect slumber
I dream
That you will keep me with you
so I shall ne'er again wake
to a world where you no longer reside
102216
 Oct 2016
phil roberts
Slender and tenuous reasons
Run through the droplets of motive
Which impel us in our actions
Direct us to  our self-fulfilling fates
Our cleverly devised mistakes
For we each bear the scars
Of our own fatal flaws
Victims of our own design
As I have been of mine
Haven't you?

I am the saboteur of my dreams
Picking at the seams
Of a braver me
A wiser and unlikelier me
All my tendencies and traits
Conspire and defeat me
To subtly beat me
About my empty head
With every word I've said
Every thought I've had
And that's why

                       By Phil Roberts
 Oct 2016
nivek
breaking a few dreams is inevitable
when following your heart
but your love will reach to the uttermost
all others broken dreams
 Oct 2016
Eric W
It feels like it has been years since I've cried.
Of course, it hasn't been,
but it feels so.
It's hard to be sad when so many lessons have been learned,
when "I've made it," and I'm still moving forward.
But it's foolish of me to ignore the growing loneliness,
lest it chew my insides up while I keep myself
distracted.
But it's also foolish to trade the pain I inflict on
myself for a pain yet unknown by another.
It's a cycle, yes?
We bear our own pain until it is unbearable,
trade it for pain from another,
and although it grants temporary reprieve from ourselves,
it is and will always be pain.
I'm happier alone.
And that's not to say I'm happy.
I'm not happy, and I will never be.
From my observations, I think that to be true of most people.
But that's ok.
It keeps people interested to be unhappy.
More importantly, for our own ego,
it keeps us interesting.
But I digress. Or have I?
For me to be content in my being alone and unhappy,
yet not lonely,
I would need a companion available enough to talk,
but independent enough to leave and be left be.
But when attachment is added, as it always surely is,
from me, from her,
it becomes impossible.
Or maybe it's just impossible for me.
So I get to question all things,
tear away at my thoughts and motives as usual.
But there's nothing different from that,
to question, push, leave, be alone,
and be left with nothing.
Of course, something always must come from nothing,
so how can we ever become anything when
surrounded by anything more than
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