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 Nov 2014 Maria
Olivia Greene
it's funny how people can capture you.
the lines around their eyes when they smile can invite you towards them,
or the fleeting look they give when they think no one's watching.
i'm interested in people's confidence, but also their nongregariousness.
the giving, the receiving, ebb and flow that makes sense but so little sense.
promise and brokenness, blame and responsibility.
strong regard interests me; inform me of the weather, or why that tea reminds you of that person, and why that makes you close your eyes and wonder.
I want to challenge myself and others to paint a picture without asking for others opinion. To treat yourself to a movie, buy yourself popcorn, and enjoy it. To walk down the street and try and remember who you were before the door shut behind you. And to GET LOST. In friends, in the scenery, in your favorite book. DO SOMETHING to help remind yourself who you are, because god knows you're the only one who can do it. And you can. You can.
 Nov 2014 Maria
Olivia Greene
i laid in my white abyss wondering where your touch went.
questioning why the breeze from my window could provide more care in its caress, than you.
call me naive or pusillanimous,
but your absence surprised me.
the breeze so easily comforting turned to a horripilation of dread.
so i arose from my bed, covered my shoulders in my favorite sweater,
and went on my way.
 Nov 2014 Maria
Juju Juju
He held his gun,
Prepared to snipe,

An evil laugh was given from distance,
And through the air it disappeared,

He pushed the grip,
The bullet flied,

And it landed inside the heart,
Of what was once called,
"Brother"...
there on the kitchen table
a  single long stem rose
lies prostrate across the
morning dishes
a coat and hat carelessly
thrown upon the floor
theres a storm above
and the sound of distant thunder
rolls across the four walls upstairs
and i believe
lightning is about to strike
 Nov 2014 Maria
CapsLock
Desire.
 Nov 2014 Maria
CapsLock
My soul is in angst,
craves writing desperate poerty.
To be ruled by chance,
love is hearts in anarchy.

I lust after a life that's full.
Emotion and mystery.
I'd hate it if it was dull
or ruled by destiny
 Nov 2014 Maria
CapsLock
I should've guessed, I should've known.
If there's a lightning, thunder will come.

That I was a guest, this wasn't my home,
but I was just too afraid to be alone.

Winds might change after tomorrow
and the sea my pain could somehow swallow.

But today there's this mountain of sorrow,
that blocks the sun, and makes me feel hollow.
Do the heavens hear their cries?
How can they let these children slowly die?
I pray now spare them from agony
Sew their wings and set them free
For they are not slaves of poverty
But of souls unworthy of their sanity

A song for you my child
It is not your fault
You are not born to cry
A child is a child
Even if he sleeps in a bed of sweets
or in the busy streets
In your eyes pure innocence and love
In your hopes and dreams
you must fly like a dove
High as the angels above

Never will the sirens wake you
Never will the stones hurt you
Never will the cold bite you
For tonight you will not wake in fright
Rest in peace my child
The moon will swallow your woes
The stars will weave your dreams
And they will make you warm as you sleep



-Forgotten Angels, Margaret Austin Go
I dedicate this poem to all the homeless children. The abandoned and forgotten. The aborted children and the slaves of childtrafficking. Those children at war zones and children deprived of being a child. A blanket of love for all of you.
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