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 Oct 2014 Selena
Isha Kumar
I met her once
a little, blind girl
who had let me
inside her wonderful world.

Yes, she couldn't see,
the girl with eyes bright.
Yet, she loved her world
like she never lost her sight.

She heard the music
of the breeze that blew.
The love for her world,
it only grew.

She acquainted me with
that music she heard,
from the buzz of the bees
to the chirping of the birds.

Yes, she couldn't see
the wonders of life.
Yet, she smiled
without a sign of strife.

She had beautiful eyes
filled with wonder.
I stood speechless and thought
how could God make such a blunder?

She danced and sang
with a graceful twirl.
How she loved her life
the little, blind girl.

She smiled and laughed,
her face filled with joy.
With wonder in her eyes,
she was serene, yet coy.

She felt her world
beneath her tiny fingers
and on me left a mark
that would forever linger.

Yes, she couldn't see
the life that she felt.
Yet, she never showed
the sorrow that she dealt.

Her world was dark.
Yet,  she saw
the Earth's true form
pure and raw.

Yes, she let me in.
But I couldn't overstay.
So, I excused myself politely
and quietly walked away.

I had met her once
a little girl who couldn't see.
Yes, she was a child
but the happiest there could ever be
Probably one of my best works. I'm pretty proud of it. ^_^
 Oct 2014 Selena
Sarah
Justice is not equality
Freedom is not fairness

It’s better to admit you don’t understand
than to torture the hopeless

Waiting for peace on earth,
you dare to hold your breath

So I’ll let you suffocate;
We are equal in death
 Oct 2014 Selena
Layla Thurman
excuse me while I write
another poem
one that I know
you will never read
but hopefully
you can understand
the pain you're giving
to me
 Oct 2014 Selena
Tupelo
May I?
 Oct 2014 Selena
Tupelo
Mother may I tell you the truth?
      That these demons been all haunting my insides.
Mother can I be honest for once?
      Cause the truth seems out of my reach.
Mother How often do you cry for me?
       I know them liquor bottles stopped doing their trick.
Mother why'd it all come out to this?
       Our words still sharp, the scars they left refuse to heal.
Mother tell me when I can come home.
       Winter is coming and I got no more warmth left in me.
 Oct 2014 Selena
Madison Green
Two months ago you told me my hair smelled like flowers, and today I saw you stepping on a rose.
 Oct 2014 Selena
Chris Weallans
It starts
in the quiet
itching in the fingers
like new skin knitting under blistered burns.

I have always written.
Before I had my letters
(before the lessons
with stubby pencils
curving sense out of the air)
I would scrawl nonsense waves
folding and boiling
in a crash of senseless surf
onto pages meant for pictures

I scribbled a whole Atlantic
before sense and sound
delivered the waves to reason.

I still find it hard,
when writing,
not to let the rolling sea
scatter into fragment waves
that whisper into the breeze of my fingers.

I have tried many addictions,
I have spent people like money.
I have tied my hands
to stop from fussing at the leaves.
If I ever loved I left it still spinning,
but I have never lost the itch

a pen to scratch its bleed of ink
into a sweet clean ****** page.
To scrawl my feint history
in every broken harbour
of her yielding skin.
 Oct 2014 Selena
Michael Humbert
"It's going to get worse," you wrote,
Your disappointment drenched me like a cold rain

And all I could do was apologize,
Insist I didn't mean it,
Beg you for another chance

But saving this was like trying to resuscitate a man shot 56 times

We all lie in the beds we make,
But the worst part is wondering,
*"What if?"
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