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 Jun 2015 OVC
Wanderer
Untitled
 Jun 2015 OVC
Wanderer
The only thing worse than being hurt is knowing you are hurting someone else
Chancellor
 Jun 2015 OVC
Charlotte
She
 Jun 2015 OVC
Charlotte
She
She is one of reasons behind the smile, that saves so many people.
 Jun 2015 OVC
Alice R-P
The smell of coffee in the morning
Reminds me of those with You.
Breakfast in bed,
Under the blankets until noon.

There was no haste
To some place else,
In each others arms,
Savouring the sweet embrace.

The nights were bright,
Sky overflowing with stars,
On the ground we lay,
Searching for the North star and Mars.

Picking out flowers from the meadow,
Under the vast blue yonder,
Making flower crowns together,
Filling each other with laughter and wonder.

Attempting to unravel the life's mysteries,
To untangle all the knots and twists,
Struggling to give answers to all the questions,
Still staying ecstatic to be alive and coexist.
 Jun 2015 OVC
Alisha
anxiety
 Jun 2015 OVC
Alisha
The milk hits the water
with an explosion of hues
and i can't help but notice that
that is how I feel around you
The milk and the tea battled for dominance
and of course the tea won
but the milk still existed within the tea
no matter how much it tried to run
This was inspired by watching a lady pour milk into her tea when I went to get tea with a friend a while ago.
 Jun 2015 OVC
Jennise
Untitled
 Jun 2015 OVC
Jennise
I had expected the stars to be close
Enough to touch
Hanging like stranded diamonds
Deep within the confines of
The rambling universe
 Jun 2015 OVC
Alice R-P
The sky above us is ablaze,
You can almost feel the heat
From the colors of dark orange and red.
Your presence is putting me in a daze,
And up me You lift,
With all that's being said.
The sea has quieted down,
And the wind is noiselessly
Swishing through the straws, the sand, my humid hair.
Looking deep in Your eyes I know
I can say those three words finally,
I am certain I am there.
Thunder made the earth
contain a heartbeat for one
singular moment.
The stars are blinking.
Winking at me in the dark.
I can't see my hands.
Brother,
It's severely strained me to not say sorry
every five seconds because
I cannot answer all of the questions
causing the fog within your skull.
I can't provide these answers
not because I don't want to
or don't know how
it is because I simply cannot.
I'm constantly held at gunpoint
by your elder teachers
who want to keep you polished
in the same state on a shelf
for them to watch.
They don't realize you're constantly
surrounded by kinks in their plan.
Your ears aren't in tune
to hear the evening news.
You haven't learned to digest reality.

You know,
I've always found it odd that
prostitutes practice their profession
in the same places
that kids play pick up sticks
near parents who promise themselves
to protect them
by dressing them up in ignorance.
By lying to their faces
and telling them about the stork
or Santa Claus.
To keep them "pure".
Preserve "innocence".
How does it help to raise your child like a bird.
Keeping them in a wire cage,
to sit on a wooden swing for hours
while they wait for daily meal
and swig of water.
They have wings for a reason.
Calling this "freedom" would be a disgrace.
Let your fowl fly free into the warmth of earth
and explore with guidance
to become new.

Artists do not buy canvases to keep them blank.
Galleries all over the world aren't filled untouched with sheets of white.
Artists buy canvases to create something beautiful.
Let your children become something beautiful.
innocence brother questions young pure personal self
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