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loggi Dec 2020
The night has come
So the phase has shift
And in the moonlight
I feel myself drift
Out from my head
Deeper I go
Till I am out.
loggi Dec 2020
There is a bitter taste
Pressed to my mouth
As I sip my tea.

There’s a thought that’s lives
I wish to drown out
But can I ever cede.

All this has been steeping
And it’s now too strong.
I’ll have to deal with it.
loggi Dec 2020
“All my roses like to go,”
He says looking outside.
“I am sure they’ll come again,
In the spring they’ll come out,
Wherever they do hide,
And I’ll be able to rest.”
    Something has eaten my flowers...again
    And I am not sure who to blame.
    I take such nice care of them
    But they never seem to grow.
    Maybe there is a mole…
    Yes feasting away my crop
    Or perhaps I am too early
    And the chill has made them stop.
    I say laments and I cry
    But all I ever do
    Is shrivel up and die.
    I will try something else,
    Roses always die too soon
    I will try something else!
    And then I do nothing.
    Weeds and vines grow about
    Clogging my drains as they sprout.
    My garden feels empty
    All I want is one thing
    But then I'm left with plenty.
    You once had a nice presence
    Here some time ago
    But then one day you stopped
    And left me all alone.
    Roses, they are telling me
    That I am not the one they want
    Somehow I’m not good enough
    And I should just stop.

    Barbous thing you tricked me
    Was it ever mine to want
That i gave you all the conditions
And you gave me naught.
So I look in puddles
And hear about others success
But all I do is wilt
And in it I regress.

I feel like gypsum
A minor step in between
    Stale and used
    Time has expired for me.
    Why are there so many vines,
    Why is there so many weeds,
    All vexing me in all directions
    I wish I could fall asleep.

    My face is cracking plaster
    As I start to weep
    I feel my mind sinking
    And I start to dream.
    You are the ****** one
    With little of success.
    I am the ****** one,
    They know what is best.

    I changed everything
    So i could be adequate
    I played the role they liked
    But in the end I am looked at
    In bitter thoughts and spite.

    There is a curious thing
growing in my garden.
The vines have blossomed
And the weeds bear fruit.
Is this the allure of sadness
Or just an unrealized truth
Because I sit and look
At the thing I ignored.

So here I take
What has been given
And we brush away
The mistake I’m living
So stop with all this fake peace
You should have been
Honest with me.

So find some sugar songbird,
You can bury me alive.
But I’m not the one
Having something to hide.

Here is my garden,
There is plenty of space
And i don’t want to live
Under your passive glance.

Here is my chance
I’ll try to let go.
But I am the memory of someone
They will always know.
loggi Jul 2019
You have a voice.
That I admire so much.
It carries well and sounds
So clear and humble.

So I decided I should speak
And maybe it was a noise
Or some pretense that drew me in
But I waited for the
Pluck and note
Of the casual up and downs
Your tongue rhythms.

But it’s always at a cost
To have you,
That you speak to me empty
Like the endless droll
Of a receiver left unanswered.
loggi May 2019
They say you can buy happiness
With just a little luck.
That it would be so immense
You’d never need to grow up.

But time through time
It might drip away
And dry up in a drought,
That in a few days
It would be filled with doubt.

That type of water,
Doesn’t let anything grow
And maybe this ground is cursed.
Maybe it’s time to go elsewhere
To finally clench this thirst.

But you can keep on running
And that lake becomes a sea.
You just have to wait,
For it to go,
As slow as it may seem.
loggi May 2019
I really want to see
If you reached out to me
Like you promised
And possible revel
in the silly long
Banter of our old voices.
It seems a lifetime
turns to a month
That you got older
Becoming more preoccupied.
But I don't want to let myself See
Because another let down
Would leave me lonely.
loggi May 2019
I lay my foot here
On the traces of the side
And follow the floor
As if it is a guide.
It's sort of a game
I like to play with the stone
Whenever I am walking alone.
Maybe they see me
Skipping always twice
And following the sidewalk
In a strange zigzag
But maybe they don't mind.
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