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Allen James Feb 2019
Freedom is a stranger
and I am but a child,
Heeding the panic
of a mother's love.
Alxe Feb 2019
You once asked me what I wanted to be
A policeman, a baker, whatever called to me
You would let me sing songs out of tune
So that I’d make up stories for when I grew

At first this was incredible and splendid
Broad opportunities to get interested in
I looked around at the world to observe
Yet I found every straight of hope soon curve

I see a falling leaf, green despite the weather
Cut off from the world, no lifeline to tether
I’d think of an astronaut falling through space
And I’d determine: Astronomy? No thanks

I see a bee, buzzing about. Lost from his friends
A wanderer no doubt. His work with pollen came to no end
No matter how much he did, there was always more
Daily worker’s life couldn't be for me, with so much left to explore

I see a glimpse of a squirrel, and then it’s scampering up wood
To hide its berries and acorns, chattering my ear off as it should
And then I hear silence, as the squirrel fled away
Now anything with nature reminds me how lonely I felt that day

So as I became older, I seemed to shoulder
Every fresh idea of a future I had became colder
I wonder, when did my vision become so narrow?
If I’m still young, then why do I feel so harrowed?

My star light of possibility, when did you become a telescope?
That blinding light, when did it shrivel my last rays of hope?
I know some of it is a little wonky but that's due to me wanting every stanza to have the same rhyme scheme soooo                       feedback? please?
Chris Jan 2019
Whether you forget them or black birds come an take them,
Whether you forget or they steal it away,
The dreams that kept you going,
Singing and not knowing,
The sun that's always glowing,
And the light of day,
You better forget them or they will fly away.
ManxPoetryGuy Jan 2019
Large city filled with empty people,
Hollow husks of what we used to be,
Dreams lay abandoned on the street,
I wish to be set free.
The future maybe closer than we think...
Kate Bethanie Jan 2019
Welcome back. Welcome home.
Your belongings, your things - they are just things, after all - have been waiting for you. Well, not waiting. They had no sense of hope that you would ever come back. They didn't miss you.
But still, when you look at them they do seem to be saying
"welcome home".
You blow the dust off and it's like you were never gone.
You move things around, disrupt the status quo, change what has remained unchanged for so long. Re-discovering.
Re-finding things you thought you'd lost,
memories catching you by surprise.
You can't believe all that you've forgotten,
all that you've lost over the years.
Just little things.
Age comes with a price.

At first there's student loans to pay, and medical bills soon come your way:

There's marriages and births...

Save some money for the worst of times, spend a nickel or throw a dime.

Insurance and loans to buy a home, between car payments and rental fees;

Donate to your church while praying on your knees.

Our wallets grow thinner with each passing day, working grim and *****, tryin' to find another way:

Just make it through and retire, watch the grand kids grow.

Maybe spend a couple of months down in Mexico.

Soon enough you'll have to leave your line, and realize that real wealth...comes in the form of time.
Sunny Jan 2019
I awake to a new day
Yet feel unenthusiastic.
Unlike most others, I don't really care
That the new day brings upon a new year.

It just means milestones occur.
Important events. Changes.
My birthday's in 16 days.
Adulthood approaches rapidly, and I'm unprepared.

Am I immature? Am I not ready?
I'm unsure. Yet I remain steadfast.
I'm not ready for this change.
That day will only add pressure on me.

Their expectations are high, I suppose.
"You're going to be a computer engineer." Or something like that.
But I'm…confused. Parts of it I'm not good at.
And I'm left wondering if I even care about that class anymore.

What if I don't want to pursue that?
Will it be a waste of my "talent" or is it just a fleeting interest?
I suppose I could take up writing but…
We all know that's just wishful thinking.

My mind's clouded, uncertainty filling it to the brim.
And as each minute passes, I just count down the days
Until I can talk to her again.
Even if we're far from each other, we'll still be connected.

Just like the days before.
And then, I'll make her smile.
In that moment, I'll forget about my own troubles.
And focus on hers.

Is this a bad thing to do? Probably.
Do I care too much? Perhaps.
Will this help me forget about everything though?
No. It won't. But at least I can be happy.

Even if that's for a few hours a week.
I guess there's a lot going on with me that I refuse to acknowledge.

I'm a fool.
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