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 Jun 2014 Francesca
Babu kandula
I am wet
Not my clothes
But my heart
When I walk through my past
Some sort of mistakes
I cannot redo them
I am learning
From my mistakes
One day I will
Come out of my mistakes
# learning things to redo and fix them
 Jun 2014 Francesca
CA Guilfoyle
red
it is the clay of hills
cathedral clouds of sunsets burning
the weeping that calls you home
it is the fire within

gray
it is the ashes
blowing from your hands
the sands slipping, back to earth
a soul sifting, a balanced scale
awaiting your rebirth
 Jun 2014 Francesca
Life
The Plea
 Jun 2014 Francesca
Life
If I talk real slow

Will you listen?
 Jun 2014 Francesca
CA Guilfoyle
Breath of life, it is a wild ocean
always a tide coming and going
in this place, it does not linger long
never holding on, only drifts quietly into night
into stars, into fleeting sparks of fire flies
or in the night waters, a ghostly glow
of phosphorescence, a transient trail
of luminescence that soon
fades and reappears to light
the deepest depths
of sea
to all who stop by here to read this poem, I thank you
to all poets, here and everywhere, I thank you
XO
Cyd
 Jun 2014 Francesca
MalaiDaisies
The sun was shining,
The birds were chirping,
A bomb exploded.
             .
             .
             .
Well THAT escalated quickly.
Nishad :)
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