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 Dec 2014 Morgan B
When I was in 4th grade
I wanted to be beautiful
So I put on eye shadow when
My mum couldn't see
In 5th grade, I wanted to be thin
Have long skinny legs
And a flat stomach
And pretty hair
So I curled it
and I straightened it
In 6th grade
I wanted to be popular
and all the popular girls were pretty
So I tried to look like them
So I could meet the new kids
At middle school
In seventh grade
I wanted sleek shiny hair
and a smaller
and pretty eyes
Whiter teeth

And in eighth grade
I wanted to be me

And in ninth grade
I wanted to be free
 Sep 2014 Morgan B
Hold On
 Sep 2014 Morgan B
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the light inside
before it's gone
Hold on to the love you feel.

Darkness is coming around the bend
The plagues are moving in on the winds
The wars are raging in retaliation’s name
The sun is burning,
shooting solar flares our way.
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the wisdom of your mind

Life is precious
Comes and goes
Time is an illusion
That we all know
Lovers, they also come and go
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the light inside
The mandalas in the faces of the flowers
call your name.

Against all odds
Against the deranged machinations at the hands of the gods
We’re mere humans
Standing at the rim of the stars
Staring out into space
In this brief
Time and place  
Throwing sand at the waves
To  protect the
Sand castle walls we built,
As children at the ocean.
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the light inside
Childhood joy and wonder
Before it to comes and is gone.

I weep these tears
For the innocent sorrow of all mankind
Who has always been so sick inside
And never remembered to hold on
Hold on
Hold on
To the momentary flickers of all those lights inside

Hold on
Hold on
We all know what’s coming
Darkness to each and every one.

Let’s make this pact
In this room
We’ll hold on to the light inside
Until the last candle is done
And the last breath blows out the light
And whispers lovingly
“Good night.”

Hold on
Steve's 185 Hippie Dream.
 Sep 2014 Morgan B
Ariel Baptista
Remember those old floral mugs
that we used to have.
I think they are in a box somewhere.
I never really liked them before
but I do now.
So do you think it would be okay
if I brought them with me
when I go?
That is
if I found the box they’re in.
I never really liked them before
but I do now.
Six small words, that's all.

Six. Small. Words. 

Yet they sit mute on my tongue, held tightly by fear of the destruction they will cause. 

Seven syllables.
Swirling around my brain, screaming through my consciousness everytime we talk, begging to be spoken, consuming my every panicked thought.

Twenty two letters.
A small amount, though enough to tear two worlds into shreds and cast friendship into darkness everlasting.

They're only words, right?

If that were true, I would scream them across the sea, my truth drowning out the roar of the tide..... but these words would take you from me, so I bite down on them, imprison them within, where they churn and spit with fury at my cowardice.

Six small words I'll always mean but never say, seven syllables that would send you reeling, running, betrayed.  Twenty two letters that I could only ever follow with "I'm sorry" as I watch you walk away.
Just needed to get it out.
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