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Smiles are deceitful my eyes tell the truth, what more do you need my face is the proof!

Look closer than that I am but a shell, brimming with Rage, my own personal hell.

believe nothing you see, not even me, for I am the demon and the demon is me.
Thanks to all who read my work
Can I hide here with you ?

For I don't know what to do,my fragile soul's in half and my head and heart both choose different paths, let me hide here with you, away from public view, where their eyes can do no damage where my mind remains unravaged.
Protected by a suit of dreams
And armed with a smile
He came out of nowhere
And went his own way

Seemingly believing nothing
And walking in no-one else's footsteps
He follows no rules without reasons
But he knows right from wrong
And he knows that's what matters

In a world of easy hypocrisy
Where compassion is stifled by fear
And belief is a reason to hate
To hate and destroy other beliefs
He goes his own way

                              By Phil Roberts
You, you broke me
Swallowed the sea
Lied to me
Can't you see
And you, You sin
You win
Drank the devils gin
Play your game again
You, youre gold
Shiny lies told
Beautiful origami fold
Love stories of old
And you, your great
200 dollar plate
My karmic fate
All that I love
And hate
And you, youre something
While I'm nothing
Sand
In your hand
Blown away....
Forever I denied the loveliness of wildflowers. Never wanting to admit I admire their wild beauty at play or that I felt like I was one of their own. So I took a long slumber that lasted more then winter always denying thy name. Ever changing and ever growing deep inside my earthly darkness. Creating weeds and spreading external havoc across fields luscious and green. Believing wild to be a treacherous thing. All consuming and never steady, never perfect as a rose tended in a garden. But then I awoke one day from my slumber and looked across the wondrous sky. Seeing for the first time all the beautiful colors that wildflowers create- pink, blue, yellow, and golden orange mixed into seas of green. I knew then and there I was claimed. Forever growing, forever being- beautifully imperfect like a wildflower. Wildflower I sang- at last accepting my name.
No one told me,
Death, was a she
She stopped by my house,
We had tea
She spread her black wings
In my sitting room,
She was beautiful
But smelled of doom,
I called her a *****,
She said to me,
"Sorry, my dear,
I'm necessity."
I search for the best lay of the land
between hillsides & beyond
concrete

where gravel roads wander
toward birdsong and gut
laughter with

oak  fence posts
and sleep filled
nights.
Entangled in plastic
and  fishing line
eyes pecked by
crows; a new
America.
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