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Ezekiel Mar 2021
My day, my cake, my family with fake masks, uncover the truth, stay put.

Don't look, don't go, restrictions on space, my limitless.

Oh, how the sun shines on me today.

Fill pals, fill empty hearts, but they grow to be brutal.

My cologne doesn't smell the same, I am sick.

Oh, how the sun shines on me today.

I get by, without being broken, glass behind a safe.

Opposites, my shirt is flipped and so is my memory, I have not eaten.

Oh, how the sun shines on me today.

Claimed by a poor family, they have just enough to spare.

They have watched, and seen, I am a victim, for the first time.

They know what I like, and dislike, I have found love.

Unlike draining conversations, these are plentiful.

Unsettled to this feeling, but it feels right.

Oh, how the sun shines on me today.
This poem is of many, this is a series that I have been thinking about, the series itself is called "Eugene". But this specific poem in my early starting series is dedicated to an important person in my life who has taught me to be humble. Hope you enjoy :)
Ezekiel Feb 2021
On a lamp lit day, when I have come from the depths of outside.
You greet me with a warm face, and shiny eyes.
Your eyes, like pearls that have had their fair share of life.


Unlike a regular blank face your default is one with a smile.
And unlike confidential files your secrets are spilled like water.


We gather around the half broken table and start a puzzle.
Half broken hands teaching me the instructions of puzzles.

Where I would say "puzzles don't have instructions".
Then you would reply with a nod and a smile

Sometimes I am broken, and it is not clear how I would fix myself.
"There are simply no instructions" I would say.
Although, I still nod my head and smile.
This poem, is for my Grandma she continuously provides me with secret life lessons like this one. I am truly grateful to have these lessons. Please don't be afraid to critique or complement me, in the end it all helps me.

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