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I am an addict
Can't live without
When I stop using
I feel down and out

Did try it for a few weeks
Went into total lockdown
But after a while
I started to drown

My palms got sweaty
I started to suffocate
Couldn't breath anymore
And I lost my faith

So then I started using again
I just didn't know what I could do
So I decided to be an addict for life
Because I'm just too **** addicted to you
Me
You Don't Know What
It's Like To Be Me.

Until You've Looked In The Mirror
And Don't Like What You See.
From her...
 Feb 2015 Madison
Simon Avenson
The burden of a thousand sheets of paper
all with the design to make me smart.
A thousand sheets of paper, so that when I grow up, I can play the part.

Music
the dancing it induces
and the embarrassment that dancing brings

The Day
let the Sun conform you to society's needs.
it can't be that bad, right?

****** drawings and half-assed notes
reminding me that there is room for improvement
and that I am also really bad at drawing.

Legos
a reminder of simpler times
always stay young.

A snorkel
so that if I am sinking underneath the waves of society
I may yet still be able to breath.

A nut, as a reminder that we all had a starting place
and to remind us that we all had humble beginnings.
that there will be time enough for growing.

A ***** dish
to signify that there are always ways you can help others
and that you should clean up after yourself

Failures
and successes
and those things between them which seem to be neither.

The Night
A time for Stars to shine
and the Moon to show its true self, don't be afraid.

Blank Space
for things yet to be discovered
and things not meant to be discovered.

A failing corpse, mine
A remnant of my youth, not quite gone
but on life support, don’t leave.

Borrowed Pencils
Oops
I should return those.

A poem, the final draft
written with a clouded mind
and an optimistic soul.

All these things
yet room for more
full, yet in truth empty, like my stomach after lunch.
Had to write a poem for one of my English Classes
 Feb 2015 Madison
SG Holter
To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.

To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel

Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities

Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.

I refuse to give up hope;  
This could be a poem world.

Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.

Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,

Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.

Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,

So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.

Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,

That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow

And dream the world right.
Write the world right.

There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.
 Feb 2015 Madison
JDK
Philosophistry
 Feb 2015 Madison
JDK
The postmodernists claim that man is little more than a confluence of forces.
Metanarratives absorbed around the age of four
developed in tandem with an ever-changing world.
Old ideas replanted then growing toward the rays of a shifting sun.
Your ideas are not your own.
You're not the only one.
There is no such thing as an original thought.
But the postmodernists are wrong.
A confluence of forces,
I am not.

Existentialism states that a man's life is his to create.
We make our own meaning.
We define the stakes.
Whether a great victory or a tragic loss,
but never merely a leaf being tossed by the wind.
Everyday is a blank page in the novel of our lives,
and we hold the pen.
Let the story begin.
 Feb 2015 Madison
Lauren spooner
Sometimes the weight of your own mistakes will be too much.
     You’ll bend further than you thought you could
        And sometimes,
           You will break.

2. Sometimes it’s the sting of someone else’s mistakes
          That hits you like a punch to the face
              And you’ll sit, trying to soothe your wounds
                   Wondering what you did wrong.

3. No one ever tells you there will be times
          You feel guilty for being happy
                                                 Don’t.

4. A knife to the heart will usually hurt more
           Than a knife to the back.
                 But, sometimes, if the aim is right
                                 They’re the same thing.
 Feb 2015 Madison
Mandy Rochel
Your essence as a whole is an impenetrable force field of which nothing can destroy except what's inside.
So don't get yourself down
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