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Chloe Oct 2017
breathing off these fumes,
getting high as a kite,
forgetting everything around us,
as the world becomes a blur

faces turn to  blotches of colours,
words into background noise,
speech to meaningless slurs,
as we struggle to hold our poise
  Sep 2016 Chloe
There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose journey was indeed sheer folly
He had hoped to meet someone, just anyone
To share his plight and story

Many had seen him walk his crooked walk
But thought him unpleasing and crazy
We had watched from afar, afraid to go near
And we had avoided him completely

We could've looked past his decrepit state
But we invested much in seeing with naked eyes
So quickly we turned the other way
We cared not if he lives or dies

We could've helped this man
To close the journey that he had then begun
The earth would now claim his body where it laid
As his soul disappears into the sun

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose looks weighed on us a tonne
We've lost the chance to see this man
The man we conveniently chose to shun
Part 6 of 6

How many times have we seen this man,
woman or child...
Then judged and looked the other way?

I, too, am guilty.
Chloe Sep 2016
Her voice rings through the plains,
Loud, unsullied, strong,
Telling the Stories with words,
No book had the spine to tell.
Another sporadic post.
Chloe Aug 2016
I am a hurricane.
I am the storm that brings the darkness.
Leaving a trail of destruction in its wake,
With no mercy for all.
Chloe Apr 2016
Life is too blooming short,
To not do as you please,
To let others dictate,
The type of life you should lead.

Life is too dang versatile,
For you to remain mundane,
To lock yourself indoors,
And be simply Plain Jane.

Life is too ****** expensive,
For you to be wasting it away,
To not know the value of existence,
To see the dawn of each day.

Life is too ******* beautiful,
For one to hate it as much as you,
To hate the miracle within yourself,
If only, just only, you knew.
Life is too short, cherish it while you have it.
Chloe Apr 2016
They're piling on top of me, one by one,
Pulling me under, pushing me down,
Like shackles on my limbs, weighing more than a tonne,
Invading my lungs, as I try not to drown.
Back from another hiatus.
Chloe Dec 2015
Familiar aches,
As you stare mindlessly, empty,
At all but nothing.
A close person to me suffers from dementia and it pains me to know he doesn't recognise me anymore, to not act as lively, happy as he did before. Cherish those around you before it is too late.
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