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Eleanor Kellett Mar 2016
When my mind is shattered
And my soul is low
I turn to language of the emotions
Poetry
I let myself scream and rage and cry
As I cannot in the everyday
I allow myself the fantasies of love
And the fear of death
To overwhelm me
Poetry is the food of the mind and nourishment of my soul
Eleanor Kellett Mar 2016
Little things set me alight
Jammed drawers,  unwarranted information
Humanity and reality to
They all annoy me
But I keep it in
For I have raged against a machine
And I lost, pieces of myself
Never again, never
Eleanor Kellett Nov 2015
Our time alive is so short
So why do some spend it fighting
Why do some spend it hurting
Why do some spend it lying
Why do some spend it murdering
Why do some spend it crying.
We all share the same fate
We all will die someday
So why waste them doing such things
When you could be laughing
You could be smiling
You could be helping someone
You could keep trying
You could socialise
You could fall in love
You could get married
You could have children
You could be happy.
So why do you choose to end someone's could with your spending of time.
That doesn't seem fair or right
Oh but of course life isn't fair
Because we all have to die someday
Even you, but it's ok because a humans life is worth nothing right?
Oh what's that? It's worth a religion?
Of course it is. Because a god can't **** for itself.

We all have to die someday, but I die for nobody's god.
I'll die in love of the earth and that's enough.
Eleanor Kellett Aug 2015
Like a porcelain doll,
I sit on the shelf
Too delicate to be played with
My purpose unfulfilled.
White, painted, yet hollow inside.
And the sobs, they echo.

They echo.
Eleanor Kellett Aug 2015
Someday we'll all be gone
But our stories might live on
In the photographs we take
And the memories we make.
  Aug 2015 Eleanor Kellett
aar505n
When the words became too real
It was given a beat
And we dance to it
Till meaning was lost
A smokescreen to hide
What was meant for others
But the words are still there
Still wield their power
Not extinct
Just dormant
Eleanor Kellett Jul 2015
A drop of moonlight,
A pinch of witch hazel,
The sound of flutes
And the smell of mint.
The coins, candles and incense
Making a metallic heavy scent
The ashes of bones
The wooden stick, the lone skull
The statue of Persephone,
Only one half of the whole.
Sing, drink and rise.
A new day has come,
A day for laughter,
A day for love
A day to live.
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