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We are the poor.
We have no wealth.
Don't ask about our mental health
In fact walk past us.
Don't ask why
Just do not look us in the eye
Especially if you knew us before
When we wore socks and brushed our teeth
And hadn't given up and sank beneath
The awful maelstrom in our brain
Of fear, pain and damning shame.

We are the shadow people
But I see you,
And I know that you have shadows too.
 Oct 2021 Mitch Prax
Tom Dodd
As the rose-colored spatter
ran across the wall
This self-absorbed narcissist
felt no remorse at all
Possessed by a craving
for a special shade of red
to complete the painting
that was reeling in his head
He dipped his brush into the blood
that had spilled upon the floor
His masterpiece might have to wait
The police are at the door
 Sep 2021 Mitch Prax
 Sep 2021 Mitch Prax
we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections
 Sep 2021 Mitch Prax
aspen wilde
the colours are gone again.
You are never
just a poem away
from anything
even tho you think
this one will
do the trick
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 Jul 2021 Mitch Prax
Have faith in better days
In a better future
Look forward for accomplished goals
 Jul 2021 Mitch Prax
Betthia Mae
I saw you
Through the screen
On that second
Why did I think
It was meant to be

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