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Louisa Coller Feb 2019
23
Everywhere I visit,
those numbers follow.
I gaze upon my imaginary fortune,
Falling gracefully within the hollow.
Louisa Coller Feb 2019
My heart is in awestruck,
Face hidden amongst bedsheets,
They all smell like you.
Louisa Coller Jan 2019
Your structure was tall like a tree in the night,
yet they shot you down faster than lightning.
I felt myself falling in this deep endless abyss,
while they stand tall above us in this empty place.
Nothing is clear to us.

One by one each payment is erased,
one by one each month is replaced.
the more we look, the more it hurts us,
as we sit here in a confused daydream.

Vulnerable people grasping onto what they can,
it sounds dramatic only when you feel safe.
They say their words represent our feelings,
yet every person I know never felt the same.
I never knew how to feel like them.

One by one each payment is erased,
one by one each month is replaced.
the more we look, the more it hurts us,
as we sit here in a confused daydream.

For you grew in a shell of a place,
I never knew from my experiences.
But, for the place I did know for years,
I feel the colours fade away.
Every hue, every shade.

One by one, each person begins to walk away,
one by one, they make out it’s our fault again.
Yet, instead of fixing what is broken in masses,
we find new ways to paint over it again and again.

For I wonder what becomes of us?
If I’m not enough, will we be enough?
Even then, will they come knocking,
for us to pay their debts?
My pockets are empty.
This poem was written to be sent to Hungry Hill Writing for their 'Poets meet Politics' competition; I have wrote three poems for this competition; The first poem I entered, this is to highlight that it isn't just the United Kingdom being in a Political disaster... America, or the USA, itself, isn't doing much better. Government Shutdown, the workers not getting their pay. It's just a disaster everywhere isn't it?

This is meant to be the worries conveyed from an American and English person in love.
Louisa Coller Jan 2019
The time on the clock ticks fast,
you hear them shattering glass.
Explosive sounds in night,
Small hands hold on you tight.
"Don't forget us when it's passed”.
This poem was written to be sent to Hungry Hill Writing for their 'Poets meet Politics' competition; I have wrote three poems for this competition; This is the second entered; The title is quite self-explanatory, this is about the border of Ireland.
Louisa Coller Jan 2019
You need to know that
our politics isn't broken
think differently
This poem was written to be sent to Hungry Hill Writing for their 'Poets meet Politics' competition; I have wrote three poems for this competition and this is the third one; This poem is simply to say Politics itself isn't something broken, we simply don't always or if relate to the people we have in power. We should never look down on something where we can speak proudly about how we feel or believe in something - but we are also allowed to disagree with statements too.
Louisa Coller Dec 2018
I can imagine,
trees, ponds, fish and oleanders
but I can't begin
to hold you tightly enough,
the anguish remains crafted.
Louisa Coller Nov 2018
Must my jaw be firm,
to throw the first punch of a fight?

Must my hands be delicate,
to hold you tightly in my arms?

Must my voice be deep,
to show you how much I care?

Must my eyes be saddened,
to prove how much I want you there?
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