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 Jul 2019 Leisa Battaglia
Missing you
It's like trying
to breathe under water
and tonight I'm sleeping
at the bottom of the ocean
 Jul 2019 Leisa Battaglia
Ava May
To whom it may concern,

My body is not a playground you play with for a couple hours and then leave. My body is a palace that portrays beauty and elegance. My body is a home, so never take more then is offered. Do not over stay your welcome.

My heart has been broken a few, well many times, but if it’s placed in your trust be gentle with it. My heart has a few tears and cracks in it. be careful.

My love is strong and will take on any challenge. Try me. I’m up for the test, for i will love you like the wildest storm.

                                                      -Av­a May
 Jul 2019 Leisa Battaglia
The clock read 3 am,
And the street was snoring
When the station wagon bumbled
Into the driveway of the
House with the white railing porch.
Doors opened and slammed shut,
And he looked out the bay window
Towards the house next door
To see who had arrived at this
Ghostly hour.
T’was a girl, with seventeen years
Under her belt, same as he.
She sported a simple brown dress
That was pleated on the bottom,
And he noticed that her feet in those
White sandals were every bit as dainty
And delicate as the rest of her.
Her hair was tucked in a messy bun,
The kind it takes you hours to master
To make it seem like it only took you a few seconds.
He was convinced she hadn't needed practice.
The girl went to her trunk, and pulled out a
Large polka dotted suitcase, the size of
A true adventurer.
Looking closer, he saw how frayed the edges were,
And how the pink background looked almost white
Against the purple dots.
As she wheeled it around and began
Lifting it up the white railed steps,
He noticed maps sprawled all over the dashboard of her station wagon,
Of Wyoming, Utah, and Nevada.
He wished fervently he could see her license plate.
Who was this strange girl?
He had but a lowly Vermont license plate; why was she here?
The clock read 8 am,
And the street was waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs, and
The boy's head was once again
At the bay window, but a surprise awaited him at the house next door.
The station wagon was gone, no trace of it, and the white railed house
Might have even been the quietest house on the block.
The boy threw it away as a dream, but has never been able to forget
The girl with the polka dot suitcase.
Sorry I haven't been posting as frequently as I normally do! I was on vacation, which inspired me to write this poem, and now I'm back. I hope you're all having a great summer! <3
 Jul 2019 Leisa Battaglia
Golden trees with sun-kissed leaves
Wings of midnight cotton
Floating high in cedar hills
Are dreams inside a coffin

****** rose with sappy petals
Warrior wings with fewer scales
Coasting into deeper woodland
Are the graves of the lost and frail

My pen wrote of loss
And with an evasive tongue, it spoke
My quivering lips succumbed to terror
And so on the truth, I choked

Azure sea reflected me
Singing wading tunes
As I dipped the toe of fear
My fear hid in the dunes

Golden rays throw blinding flames
As the setting sun burst color
Broken shells still pierce my heart
As it yearns to rid this dolor

My pen wrote of drowning
And with an evasive tongue, it spoke
My quivering lips succumbed to terror
And so on the truth, I choked

My pen then wrote the face of cowardice
And with a change of tongue, I spoke
My lips would brave the words of reason
And the birds would fly in happy notes.
I'm still not over you're gone,
I cry too many salty tears.
My fingers run a marathon,
each day trying to make you reappear.

You're the reason that I have to fight,
because of you, I tasted tomorrow.
I'll keep you in my thoughts at night,
my guardian angel; i see your halo

I won't lie, it hurts too much,
losing you; I lost myself.
My heart will never bleed enough,
the loser's hand I've been dealt.

I'll wait for time to harvest me,
I'll endure this piercing pain.
I'll walk past fragments of serenity,
just so I can see you again.
Some need to break mountains
to carve a path
Many will take and be led by the well trodden path

The  path laid by life we tread
that leads to self
Maybe finding Nemo on the way

Undefined the destiny
May it lead to the best
Bringing love peace harmony  
Dashrath Manjhi
The man who broke the mountain with just hammer and carved a path with chisel
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