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the onion in  father's hands had no time to cry,
he punched it with his fist on the corner of a table,
then ate it with salt and sheep's cheese,
(like pyramid builders my father was paid in onions)

the onion in mother's hands was sweet,
called brotherly onion, and made many leaves,
spring after spring
it was multiplied throughout the village
people kept wondering
how the onion in mother's hand
doesn”t bring tears,

- the onion in my hands is waiting

to clean it with my hands,
to cut it with a knife,
to punch it with a fist,

I think,
whenever I have an onion in my hands
I think,

the onion is waiting,

the onion in my hands

is waiting

to cry
Onion - the symbol of eternal life
S 1d
This will be the last time that I ever write about you.
S 1d
I am not afraid to live- for I have lived.
I am not afraid to die- for I have died.
All I can do- when faced with oblivion,
is stand with my arms outstretched-
and fall.
Shadow 3d
Mystical patterns fill the sky
An endless void
Consuming a lost soul
The serpent crowds the screen
And fills the darkness
Not with fear
But with acceptance
RobbieG May 10
Heart on my sleeve
Knife in my back
Eyes opened wide
Nails with jagged edges
Body covered in bruises
Internally broken to pieces
Shattered like a mirror
My reflection currently scary

Mind tired and weak
Thoughts keep intersecting
Creating contradiction amidst
Insecurities fog loves sky
Past trauma keeps resurfacing
Lately a struggle just to breathe
I have only myself to blame
RobbieG May 9
Physically weak
Mentally unstable
Socially disturbed
Emotionally battered
Economically drained
Psychologically f**ked
Damaged goods I remain
Thank God, I love who I am
Because I feel no one else can
RobbieG May 9
Barely scraping by
arms to my side


Shoulder to shoulder
confined within the edges


Within this life
within these problems


To worldly temptations
battling my self-worth


Values disarrayed
confidence shattered


Power in faith
strength in love


Lost love
faith unfamiliar


By myself
for the first time


Poetry came along
after a long distance


Providing an avenue
allowing a healthy vice


No longer alone
with my feelings


Forever learning about myself
through my own words


Words forever kept
and some far to long


Bad memories, dark tales
past trauma, a bitter heart


The cause of myself
the cause of who I was


Others can affect us
and they did to me


However the most important
lesson poetry has taught me


It doesn’t mean they can
control my feelings


When you are of sound mind
when you are of a good heart


When you wear your heart on your sleeve and actually care


You will attract the energy you strive to become


We must save ourselves before we can save someone else


We must love ourselves before we can love someone else


We must want to be saved and loved to become both


Faith is calling my name as it’s weighing heavy on my heart


This life makes no sense without there being something


Thoughts of why I have been so unconvinced or scared


As a broken person I had no foundation to build from


I felt undeserving and like a hypocrite knowing my sins


Afraid of knowing what’s right but going against his word


Bitter from a childhood past that wasn’t his fault nor mine


That’s the only way to explain the way I treated us both


That explains why my relationships always failed


In life most things are self-inflicted, but we must find the


Poetry saved me, poetry taught me , poetry shined the light


To what it was that caused this, to the importance of love


For better or worse poetry never escaped me


The truth is a poet will never be alone unless they want to be


It’s in our hearts, it’s in our mind, our souls and gives purpose


My words aren’t combined letters but rather released


I write with rawness, the ink my blood, my pain becomes yours


My happiness and self-growth also equally transferred


But who I was, I wish on no one nor those feelings


It was a necessary journey but one I’m glad has transformed


So my deepest apologies to anyone that felt left in the dark

RobbieG May 9
Drown the pain
Regret the threats
Your subconscious
Tells yourself
Don’t listen
Reply back
With laughter
Choose happiness
And choose
To love
Yourself regardless
Let go
Let love
For yourself
take over
Regardless the
Past pain
Or insecurities
Just be
Yourself genuinely
And accept
Who you
Truly are
Move on
Love life
And your
True self
For who
You are
Psychostasis May 6
I was a giant.
One day while running, I spotted you atop a tree.
You were waving. Smiling. Barely able hold the branches from my ground shaking footsteps.

I don't know why but I picked you up, gently. You sat upon my shoulders and told me of your dreams of one day building your own home.

I showed you the place I called home, yet it was too big for you.
So we went back out.
I gathered you stones of love to act as a foundation.
I plucked mighty oaks of trust from the ground to provide lumber for your walls and security.
I cleared a spot for you in my home, and allowed you to construct yours.

And all was well.
One day, you came to me in the night.
You whispered into my ear that my footsteps were too loud for you
That my movements disturbed your peace and shattered your dreams as you slept.
I tried to crawl.
Tried to slide across the ground on my belly.
For a while I just stopped moving.

Without my massive footsteps to crush the forests, and stunt the mountains
The forests began to become an overgrown thick brush
The mountains toppled from their own height and destroyed anything around them

But I sat. Quietly. And watched.

And then it became my breathing.
My heartbeat.
The pounding sound of blood rushing through my veins.
My laughter.

My very existence was too loud. Too disturbing to your peace.
So when your walls started to rot
And you slept through,
I wasn't sure what the correct course of action was.

When the wind began eroding away the foundation, and collapsing the home around you
I was sure you'd awaken

But you didn't

Your home is gone now
Replaced by a pile of rotted wood that was your security and trust from the outside
And stones so heavy, only I can clean them up now.

And I will. Slowly

And once the pile of rubble is gone, and your corpse is located and buried

I will swear the vow that under any circumstance,

I will not let anyone tell me my existence is too powerful for them.

I am a Giant. And I will not falter from running any longer.
To Bri. My final poem to you.
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