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 May 2020 JRF
J J
I misplaced a tear drop
                                   into a jar full of collected rain.
  
Cloudy thoughts sway me forward to face the day
   ahead
 May 2020 JRF
Kayla universe
I hit the ground, but it wasn’t slowly.

It was sudden and the absence of love had crushed my lungs.

You stole the air right out of me so that you could breathe.

Ripped me apart and claimed it would set me free.

And as I laid there with broken bones and bruised ribs, I realized that this is what falling out of love looks like.
This poem is about that feeling of waking up one day and realizing you are no longer in love with your partner. I hope you enjoy and leave any comments for feedback.❤️❤️
 May 2020 JRF
Edmund black
We all strive
To be our best version
Of a perfect self

We all want
The perfect body
The perfect things
The perfect poems

But the funny
Thing is

It’s always
The quirk
The flaw
And
The ingenuity
That always stands out
 May 2020 JRF
Kayla universe
My pain is trending on Twitter.

It went viral and I guess they loved the bitterness of my words.

If only they knew where it came from...  

My pain is trending on Twitter.

I cried and cried so many nights and they all replied with a like.

My pain is trending on Twitter.
I don’t get much sleep because lately, I’ve been really sad so I write to feel a little better and I hope these poems help you deal with whatever you’re going through. ❤️❤️
The glittering lights
Of the City below
Shimmer in the
Sunrise glow
As I perch on
My rocky throne
To admire them.
Neon snails slowly
Inch their way along
The distant highway.
Flocks of starlings
Spray themselves
Across the rosy sky
And I am content.
           LJM
A different way of getting high.
 May 2020 JRF
Sue Collins
Legs akimbo and fire in their eyes. The beautiful boys of summer.
Their perfect brown backs and hands waving everywhere at once.
Energy for a lifetime used all at once. Flying net-less through the air.

The boys of summer see gold and silver linings in the paddle of a canoe.
Walls are to be conquered, no signs of trespassing for these boys of summer.
They have a secret language that will last them until they hit their inexorable winter.

The winged boys of summer know nothing about fear or death, bless them always.
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