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 Sep 2015 Reza Bavar
ThePoet
I live in my own world
Inside of this cruel world
Awaiting the next world

©
We can try to stand out, be the difference in the crowd.
And sure, it can work.
But we're the same in sense, in dress, and in form.
You may be better, or maybe it's me, but I could be just as good, you could too.
You have eyes to see, ears to hear. So do I.
We're not that different at all, if you really think about it.
We live, we wait, we hope for fate, dreaming of something.
But none of this matters, it's just our feigning.
We're all just sinners and liars and lovers alike.
Searching for a feeling that our own sparks can ignite.
 Sep 2015 Reza Bavar
mikev
the devil, It asked me too, and
I obliged with great charisma
A welcoming gesture:
Dinner
Drinks
Dancing
Laughter
Each minute lubricant tempting
anticipation in impatient people
Because why not?
The house is so quiet without the cries.
My head, so empty without the dreams.
The bed so still.
Still, I don't know you.
Look at them
noticing me,
I think they finally see
through the dark of me,
the demon inside.
I was beginning to
believe I was living.
Possibly breathing
But I was dreaming,
thinking they'd see me.
They believed me
deceased
 Sep 2015 Reza Bavar
Jacob Traver
There are mornings I hurt --
And there isn't a remedy.
But to my subtleties you're alert,
You see the pain beneath me.

"Are you okay?" simply inquiring --
I don't know what to respond --
I lie here, in truth, admiring
You of whom I've grown so fond.

Must the moment end?
Must we so soon move on?
Knowing what comes 'round the bend --
Must we face the dawn?

To which there can be no answer,
To which is attempted and tried,
Life is not well-mannered --
We are not forever beside.

"Are you okay?" -- simply inquiring --
"I'll be fine." I say.
I will from afar ever be admiring
You -- when comes that day.
 Sep 2015 Reza Bavar
niamh
He sits by the stop  
But never boards the bus
Smoking sweet smelling
Cigarettes
Fingers yellowed.
Drinking straight from
The can
Under the midday sun.
Beads of sweat on the brow.
People get on
And people get off.
Never him.
He tells me that
Sometimes
The greatest joy in life
Is watching others make the journey.
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