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For the girl who had so many dreams,
Who hoped for a brightest star,
Who waited to put on a spotlight,
Who fall and tried to get up by their feet,
Who lost and find herself,
Are you still aiming for the top?
Or you just prayed that you wont step at the bear traps?
Or maybe to run fastest that you could?
You born to believe that you need to sit on the throne,
For them to acknowledge your worth,
But aren't you tired?
Seeking validation,
Hoping to know you were not invisible...
And these days,
You ignore all the contest you've been before,
The only thing you knew its the apocalypse,
You had to fight,
For you to survive,
And not trying and trying,
Cole May 2
Warm nooks, cat sprawled like paint splatter

On a cozy lap.

Disheveled and dusty floors

Cat ***** being cleaned recently, the smell of 405

Cleaner nauseates the temple of a ghost.

Family above the garden apartment running amuck with

A child under 3 or 4.

Headspace flicking through reels of film

In black and white, reciting lines

Salting doorways and hearts and wounds.

Bright curtains of lilies or flowers,

Windows warm from fainting light,

This is where I live most days.

Home is on the edge of an apocalypse.
When the world ends and the skies clash,
When the tide grows and the fires crash,
I promise, I won't tremble.
Till the last hour I will stand strong,
Till the last breath defend right from wrong.
Till the dawn, I won't stumble.
When you die young, when your eyes close,
When your hand slips and your heart slows,
I promise I will not cry.
I'll take it all, I will ask no whys
Live through every fall
Live through every try
But here, I will not die.
If you were there, to watch me burn,
Spilling metal heart in broken yearn,
You would not turn away.
But as it is, I stand alone,
The hands are cold, the bow is drawn,
And for the end I pray.
If you were here, to watch me die,
(please, stay close...)
I could have said the last goodbye.
(i wanna see you just once again)
But now, my hopes are naught.
We get no answers when we live.
Life teaches us to just believe.
Just be, no matter what.
(are you there?)


so, when  all's gone,
and the wind howls,
when the dead rise
and the earth yowls –
Hex Feb 28
Depravity dines, corrupt calamity,

Twisting lines, vile virality,

Prophets scream and children listen,

Deceptions deem what we may christen,

"The world is dying--have they no morals?"

Eternally spying--I observe the laurels,

Gold that glistens, tightly weaved,

A blight of ricin, so slays the leaves,

The **** does not wither, it does not collapse,

With chill comes a shiver, consumed are the scraps,

"The world is dying--have they no charity?"

Eternally prying--At last, I have clarity,

The world, I had swore, may one day find peace,

The world, it's at war, a war that shan't cease,

Weapons need not, we fight with mind,

Nary a lulled thought, serenity is blind,

"The world is dying--can our home mend?"

Eternally trying--I can't stop the end.
A tale of humanity, and all that comes with it.
Zach Blackmer Feb 25
The world may end in ice,
Or else it will burn in fire.
Neither seem very nice.
Now the situation grows dire.

I am certain of only this,
I shall never know the bliss,
The earth cannot withstand.
It will die by our own hand.

That the world might fall to ice.
For wouldn’t it be nice?
Never knowing who’ll pay the price.
Shadow404 Feb 19
Battle cry
Forever echoing the quiet streets
/never sleep will the souls/
Of fallen mindless men

Hearts and fingers - everything's for sale
Put a price on human mind
/they took ours a long ago/
Dream-eter lives to tell the tale

No more saints and god is weak
Ever since our prayers died
/there's no stopping/
Fire, that burns the world
In a day where the grill won't light in the 4th of July,
And the star over the christmas tree won't shine,
Once all the knocks you heard, become an ol' stained
And wrinkled newspaper at your door,
The dust will cover it all, birds will sing a last melody,
The piano man down the street will play it's last sheet,
The cook from the 12th floor will hold an empty plate,
The plate will soon be amongst many other dishes,
The ocean will make high waves not even the daredevil would surf on,
Nor the best surfists, the sun, it will shine once more
And the sky will weep once more,
For, nevermore;
This is just a poem about the apocalypse amongst many others;
When the Shadows Seem Like Home

Night is fallen, morning to never come.
There is no Spring, there is no Summer,
only Winter and never Christmas.
For the Wild Goose of Ancient Days
departed from a rebel world
favoring the Child of Perdition.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
Jim is the author of two books of poetry β€œMusing On The Cricket Game of Life Part 1 1/2” and β€œAn Extravagant Way of Saying Nothing” both available on Amazon
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