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I sang a song when I was 3,
About the birds and the butterflies,
About the cartoons that brought joy to me.
I sang a song when I was 3.

I sang a song when I was 8,
About how I love my family,
I sang it off key but mom still said I sounded great.
I sang a song when I was 8.

I sang a song when I was 13,
About how I hated the world and people,
That my favourite color was black and no longer green.
I sang a song when I was 13.

I sang a song at 15 I think,
About heart break and tears,
And how much life stinked.
I sang a song at 15 I think.

I sang a song at 20,
Legal to drink alcohol and have *** as I pleased,
Real friends were hard to find but fakes were plenty.
I sang a song at 20.

I sang a song at 22,
Fresh out of a failed engagement,
I hated the world once again and gave up on love being true.
I sang a song at 22.

I would be 25 at mid year,
I've now found love beyond what I ever dreamed,
So I'm singing this song at 24,
Life gets better even thought at time it's horrible or so it seems.
zebra 8h
pennies like little pebbles
over the eyes
beautiful vacancies
and folded hands

our true home
land of inanimate flesh
sunken grave beds

we are already dead
waiting for our boat to float out to  dead seas vanishing point

age a slow erasure
the mind still woven into the cyclone of life
morals transmute into desires lost
every inhalation
a going going gone

the only savage kisses;
crypt tongues slow unwinding

with the allusions of a destiny
by niggling chatter
and the price of a chicken
there is bathing in a tide pool abyss
of murky tea waters

i am waiting
trying to keep up
a worn animal
till sanctuary comes
Brynn S 1d
Feet under crystal green water
Fragments of debris float in circular motions
Tracing the minds pondering nature
World passes as if turning backwards
Return to the former place one of purity
The corruption brought forth a small death
One of little significance yet large impact
Only personal not important

The clocks are abused
Mistreatment of age delivers ****
Will 3d
Just a cloud, floating in the sky

Born at 1 am on a Saturday.

As a child I loved to play, running through the fields all day.

My mother taught me all I know, she raised my sister's and I all at our home.

Before I turned 18 my heart had found love with a wonderful girl.

Before I was 20 she was gone from my world, so my heart ached and cried to find another to love.

I found someone who lived quite far away, but my heart wanted it to be that way.

She broke my heart yet convinced me to run, so across the country I moved for her.

Soon after moving she found a man, so quick had she left me that it broke my last stand.

Lost and crying, I almost left my life.

But that was the day I finally started living right.

Life was actually worth living, when I lived it for me.

I started going to college again, and met some friends who now feel like family.

One day as I walked to class, my head began to ache and spin.

My family rushed me to the emergency room to learn of my potential fate. 

Cancer was what I had, one of the worst in the brain.

But I was 23 and still alive!

So I fought it and won, at least for awhile.

Because life, I believe, is worth living.
Don't know how I feel about this one. I've been wanting to tell my life through poetry for awhile, but this feels like a right draft. Oh well. :)
Over the long years
Draped in happiness and leaves
Still grows old and dies
© LadyRavenhill 2019
Haiku 77
Max Feb 10
Call me the outlaw of the modern age.
Modern age
Caitlin Feb 8
I'm that age that suicide comes up in casual conversation.
One half of the room thinks its selfish.
The other half are dead.
I'm that age that your doctors don't give a ****.
Because all the 20 somethings are healthy.
Except the ones that aren't.
I'm that age when my parents want grandkids.
Me too Mom, but life is funny like that, I guess.
I'm that age that all my friends are drunk or depressed.
But most of the time its both.
And we are toeing the line of fun and alcoholism.
I'm that age when I should get a better job.
But the job wants experience.
Which is why I need the job.
I'm that age that is responsible for killing the radio store.
And chain restaraunts
And literally everything else that I can't afford
So who cares if its dead?
I'm that age stuck in the honeymoon phase.
But the honeymoon phase wasn't great to begin with.
And God forbid that it ever ends.
I'm that age that shows up in all the statistics.
Ya know, the ones about failing marriages
Single parents with no idea who the father is.
Or another name written in black, carved into a headstone.
I'm that age that I never expected to survive to.
So now I'm confused.
What was I supposed to do
when 18 came and I was still alive?
I barely saw sixteen, and I have to do this for 50 more years.
I'm that age that knows how to set up my elderly neighbor's Facebook
but I can't figure out how to save enough money
That I won't end up homeless if I come down with cancer.
I'm that age that has a plethora of information at my fingertips,
the musings of Socrates and the masterpieces of Mozart.
But I watch 6 second videos because my attention span was stolen
by the drugs I was put on
to sit still in class so I could learn about paralellograms.
I'm that age that I'm supposed to have my **** together.
But honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing.
Just trying to make it to Friday,
so I can drink away the mistakes I've made.
I guess I'm just at that age.
I cough the cough I cough when I'm alone
And get down off the bus to walk up the hill and home

I use the cup I use when you're at work - Tommy's Coffee cup
But in rebellion of course I make tea without boiling the water up

We sit in silence your photograph and me
And I ask you in your absence what you'd like for tea

Your note says home for 5 but I know it will be 8
No rush then to make a start I've got all day to wait

That dog we were going to get maybe now is good?
That bestseller I had planned to write maybe now I should?

This sigh I sigh to sigh I want our lives to change
This life I live, it sometimes has these awkward days.
Amarys Dejai Feb 5
Daydreams that exist only inside of my head have been laid to rest in the corners of my mind.
Lately, I’ve been looking at the raindrops sliding down my car window and wondering what that feels like to be water. I watched the approaching headlights light up the raindrops like twinkle lights, and my body began to ache for my childhood innocence, for the ability to believe in Santa Claus and his reindeer, in the tooth fairy, in the Easter bunny, and in the idea that I was always going to feel that happy.
Lately, I’ve been watching everyone around me live, and I’ve been wondering what that feels like. My heart feels like a retired opera singer performing to the empty auditorium of my chest that she once conquered. I see my purpose as a single, insignificant star in the sky that I can never seem to find. My bed sheets have become a second layer of skin, and turning the **** of my bedroom door has become one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Lately, I’ve been reading back on my old journals, comparing entries that are a year apart side by side. “This time last year,” I say to myself.
This time last year, I told myself that things will change. The only thing that changed is that I have made a jail cell out of a dorm instead of my home. I am a year older, but I still feel as anxious, exhausted, and defeated as I used to.
Lately, I’ve been daydreaming that I love myself, about being happy, about not feeling out of place, about being where I want to be.
“This time next year,” I tell myself, “This time next year.”
This is the one mistake that I can never seem to learn from.
His eyes were as blue as the sea,
they sparkled as he played with his young granddaughter.
He beamed as he watched her grow up,
he would never be able to express his adoration for her,
and she would never be able to do this for him.

Her heart sunk as she watched him grow old.
When she was younger she’d always joke that
he’d live until he was a hundred years old,
that age was creeping ever closer.
They saw each other daily and chatted as if
they had all the time in the world.

She couldn’t imagine a life without him…
She had always thought he was invincible,
but over the years his face had become hollow,
and he began to become short of breath.

She vowed to make the most of the time they had left,
she promised she wouldn’t view him differently,
the only difference now was that it was her job
to look after him, rather than the other way around.
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