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 Oct 2014 Ann Nicole
Zaynub
homeless
 Oct 2014 Ann Nicole
Zaynub
my mom told me i look homeless

i told her i was
lost sad depressed suicidal lonely homeless alone parent mom angry frustration crying silence unhappy
 Oct 2014 Ann Nicole
Olivia Kent
Bundles of circles, strung up in a ball.
In the fireplace close to the hall.
Ethnic and beautiful.
Really groovy.
A fear of grouped together circles and holes.
Distress in a ball by design.
Take that ball of trypophobia.
Throw it back me.
(c)Livvi
My daughter has this phobia.
You & I,
are a lullaby

We're the deafening *silence

just after the crash
we are moments of happiness
that never last

We're a riddle
that has no answer
we are both the cure
and the cancer

We've read this book
a thousand times, and in our hearts
we both know this fairytale
can never have a happy ending
I wish it did.....
 Oct 2014 Ann Nicole
blythe
Grass
 Oct 2014 Ann Nicole
blythe
I am a grass.
Even if someone stepped on me,
Tried to crush my hopes,
Or wished to burn me in misery;
I just grow back
Even stronger
And greener.
There are people who will try to drag us down. There will be tough times in our life. But we must not let anything or anyone stop us from reaching our dreams. We must fight back. Get up immediately when we fall down. And show to the world how strong we had been :)
A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry
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