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Audrey Maday
Minnesota    A human on the cusp of being something more. Learning perhaps love is just a lie humans create to make themselves feel better. All my …
Jeremiah Hockaday
17/M/Florida    I only started to write poetry recently at the encouragement of a year-long youtube series about our inevitable death. I think all my poems are …

Poems

dennis gunsteen Aug 2010
couple hour  aday  shareing
shareing your time.
what is this
couple
couple
be strong be strong i tell
my as min tick by an by
couple hour a day
alway say  i love you
i love  you .
we are like to ship that pass
in the night .
where  is the home for
heart .
is this   a true a true love
i have no home
for my heart
but i  do love you so
much so much .
the couple hour a day mean
world to me.
Plick,
Pluck,

the tiny little strings in my mind.

dancing to a different tune each and every day,
the world plays my songs.

eyes wandering around the room while I play with my thoughts,
like the child I never won't be.

cross-legged and slumped over as the heated droplets dribble down my spine,
and fall from my weary lips,
that which are worn from the words I never got used to saying,
singing the songs of my each and every day,

coalesce the thinkings that have somehow let me dance to where I sit today,
forlorn petals fall from my branches in beautiful pastels, cursed to live in the winding winds.

Aday to each and every day that I sing and prance within my tiny little heart,
washing my pains away.

ill-weighed upon my shoulders,
as yet i dance some more,
beneath the turbid downpours engulfed in shades of red.

i wish't to see the blue,
the green,
the steam, arising from my skin.

narrowly weeping within my little box of horrors i keep by my side,
in remembrance of each and every day i have and will yet shed a tear.

haunted lullabies revel on and on,
each and every day,

i crave the pieces of the peaces i'd once known.
to here,
today,

i shut my eyes,
and into the blackness bursts forth colors i've never seen,
and will never see again.
to see that which i've never seen.
silent shapes shaping away falling through my fields of vision,
and inform themselves to the visions I write today,
so here,

i simply continue,
to plick,
and pluck,
the tiny strings inside my mind,

each,
and every day.

~Robert van Lingen