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  Mar 2015 Paula Lee
Sally A Bayan
(14 lines)


S C A R R E D .
F O R E V E R
it seems I am
Striving hard
f o r e v e r
s c a r e d
it seems I am
struggling
healing,
staggering
braving it all
So afraid, i'd been
I cringe at your touch,
Touch me not!




>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***PLEASE START READING FROM THE BOTTOM...AND THEN BACK.........THANKS! ***
  Mar 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
Wisdom Is that which
Is only learnt from ones
Mistakes.

For we must always
Learn to adapt to that
Which was wrong, and
Make it right.

If we repeat what was
Mirrored from past errors,
Then no wisdom is gained
Only foolishness repeated
Over and over again.
Could this inspire a poem from yourself the reader? if so write and I shall read.
  Mar 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
Its chimes like a lullaby, one
Ancient, cursed. In the soothing
Moments the horror sings out.

Never is it wound up, the lid
Opens a jar, a sensation of
Serenity, to those allured  
By its corrupted song.

Old wood opens as a blackened figure
A wisp of old reaches forth. The music
Plays, soothing on the sense, but all
Is about to change.

Each note lunges in the mind, each
Corroded note, changes thoughts
Of kind, serenity is morphed into
This altered state of mind .

It doesn't matter child, woman
Man, all who hear this ancient
Lullaby cursed upon man and soul.

Object in hand, nothing else is  
Heard only that the music is
Everything, it whispers on Skin,
Bone and mind.

Each drop of blood is a note,
Each scream is but chorus in
This Lullaby of death. It
Gently fills the air with its
Soothing intentions.

The lullaby will never end, the
Figure a wisp upon a stand,
Bows to the audience of blood,
And slowly closes its lullaby of
Death. It has once again sang its
Song, and all is silence once more.
  Mar 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
I am a warrior of the pen, my words
Cutting to into you like butter, beware
Your tongue as my pen is shaper
Than any words that you inflict
Upon me, My ink would
Leave you gasping for breath.

I will write you down, I will say
With words that which can bring
A tear to the eye, to make you
Feel emotions as you  have never
Felt before. A single word is more
Powerful and longer lasting than
Any spoken word.

I have a pen that is mightier than any
Sword, it will out last any of your weapons
While  turning to rust & blunt, my pen
Will still bleed words cutting in to the
Paper, words that have always beaten a sword.

I am a warrior of the pen, there are
Many that use, ink, paper & pen to spread
Words that can bring any emotion out with
But a movement  of the pen and thought.
  Mar 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
Let those that shoot for fun be
The hunted, let us shoot them not
A death shot, that would be a hunt
Over to soon where is the fun.
  
It will do as they bleed to death, not
Knowing why, or by who, but the last
Breath is of blood and regret this is
Not fun.  

Let those that hunt in the name of
fun, let us get are arrows our rifles,
Teeth or guns.

Watch them run, through the woods
As they know now what they did to
those defenceless ones, now coming
Full circle Watch,
"BANG"
Missed, plenty of ammo left, its just
The start of this fun.

The trail we take, we find are prey
scope to the eye,
"BANG"
Grazed is this hunter become the hunted
O'well they,ll bleed out a little easier
To hunt my prey.
  
Blood drops easy to follow to find
Where you have gone, injured you
Are slower no where to run.

Easy when they can not run, I find
You slumped next to a tree,
Screaming,
Pleading,
Shouting
Out profanities, why me what have I done,
I smile this is an easy ****, as the lion roars
Rips out your throat the deed is done.

The hunt over I did make it quick you
Died in minutes, now feel the pain of
Those you used to hunt to die alone,
To choke on your own blood
Nothing did the animals do,
They did nothing wrong
Just on the wrong side of an idiots
Power trip with a loaded gun.
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