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Winter sunrise on my last and longest day,

wrap me in a winding sheet of flaming orange

take the reds and pinks from midnight blue to make my shroud

let me rest in heaven fire

drown my tired soul in colour

drinking the final carnival

warmth for my bones,

a funeral of skies and wonders
Saying goodbye to a good man,
 Dec 2019 kevin hamilton
Lye

as she trudged up the mountain
        ^
      / \
    /     \
  /         \
/             \
victory pulsing through her veins

badum badum badum badum

her eyes set intently on the peak

a deathly stare

she knew she could do anything

anything at all

she was anything but meek

this world is not for the meek
The line “this world is not from the meek” I took from a poem I wrote last school year called “Story of a Lonely Bird”.
 Dec 2019 kevin hamilton
rk
bruise
 Dec 2019 kevin hamilton
rk
you might not
have been my first love
but you were the one
who hurt the most.
- i ache for you but i'm still bruised.
 Dec 2019 kevin hamilton
IZ J
It was a hot day, not one kid in the school was not wearing shorts and t-shirts.
As least that’s what I expected

It was a boring day, not one kid in the school wanted to sit in class any longer.
That’s why I got a hall pass

It was a quiet day, I walked through the halls to find a drink in the hot peace and stillness of our school.
That’s when I saw her

She was a pretty girl, short brown locks and braces surrounding her smile
She saw me too

She was a nice girl, a year younger than me but we were somewhat friends
I smiled at her

She was a different girl, she stood there in jeans and a long sleeve shirt unlike anyone else
I waved in her direction

The water was clear, rising out of it’s silver not to pristine fountain that all the kids used
She bent down for a drink

The water was calling me, I watched her take a sip and walked over to the fountain faster
I was dying of thirst

The water was clueless, the only other witness in what I was about to see and it could know nothing
I bent down for a drink

She bent up, her sleeve got caught, it rolled up, she stepped back, I saw them, long and perfect, red cuts that decorated her soft skin protecting her delicate frame, she looked at me, I looked back, awkward eye contact that no one could forget, we both looked down, her sleeve came down as well.

It was a hot, boring, quiet day for two pretty, nice, different girls who turned around from the clear, calling, clueless water fountain and headed back to class.

I never even got a drink
I will never be whole again.
But,
Can I have some pieces back, please?
 Dec 2019 kevin hamilton
Riveá
Green has
always been my
favorite eye color, now
I know why. I'm drowning
in a pool of green and I have no
desire to be rescued. You could pull
me under, keep me within an arms reach
of oxygen, and I'd still call your arms home
Whiteout on 250,
shallow shouldered,
deep ditched,
though straight as dope
and piped icing.
The wind knows the way
but canters,
canters and drags
this crate south,
south into the beams
of some some other
sad **** bent to the clock
and near death for a dime,
for a mortgage,
and some other
******* adherence.
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