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Rebecca Cerrone Sep 2016
You have a war inside you that's all your own.
You close your eyes and feel your pulse weakening in every moment I am gone.
You try to rest your mind of me, but realize the battle has yet to start.
Expecting harmony?
A greatest irony it is.

How do you dare?
when your own heart and mind cannot harmonize?

How do you dare?
When eyes and vision cannot harmonize?

How do you dare?
When your should be's and could be's never seem to harmonize?

How do you dare?
When your wishes and duties cannot harmonize?

And, my friend

Expecting harmony?
A greatest irony it is.
Nelize Sep 2016
I look up to the mountains
where does my help come from?

sliding rocks, slithering snakes
Life's patches, wailing winds
thorns in my flesh
cliffs taunt my feet
Serpent hisses all the while

all I see is steep punishment
all I feel is lactic burn
the air thin
I have no fleshly kin
"carry me Eagle, fly me high!" I yearned
but Eagle responds echoeingly
"your footprints carried you all the way,
but through the Way you will have learned"

I look up to the sky
His words  lifted me
I look up to the sky
where does my help come from?

Eagle, how high now am thee?
gone is the Serpent
Eagle's cross shaped shadow sweeps over me
bright light above me
"well  done  my  faithful  servant"
said the Source where help cometh from

I soar on wings like Eagle,
lactic burn leaves my soul
I run and don't grow weary

I saw where help came from.
Devin Lawrence Sep 2016
Superheroes inspire us all,
superheroes make us marvel.
Superheroes are adored
from Beijing to Washington D.C.

But superheroes don't wear capes,
they wear a '96 Olympic shirt
and loose-fitting pants
you would never catch me in.

They don't have x-ray vision,
they've worn glasses
for as long as you remember.
They cannot fly,
and yet they seem larger than life.

They never seem to lie,
and they still say "I love you"
in the exact same way
almost sixty years after they bound it to eternity.

They don't have super-strength,
but they are your super strength
and they lift you up
until you can do it on your own.

They seem invincible,
but life has a way of reminding you
that even Superman has Kryptonite.

They are stubbornly steady
even when the bill of health
isn't clean.
Just as they are your strength,
you feel your aching mortality
when you find out
even superheroes get cancer.

Yet somehow,
after their greatest battle is fought,
there they are in all that remains
spreading an unyielding light
upon whoever sees them soaring by.


We wear an "S", a bat,
or even a spider
to pretend that we are our heroes
and emulate their image;
but I won't wear that old shirt,
or those terrible, worn-in jeans.
Instead,
I'll harness that unbreakable spirit,
and maybe one day
I'll be a superhero too.
I love you Papa.
Audrey Maday Sep 2016
9/4
My insides are made
Of shattered glass
Held together by pink bubble gum
An irreparable scene
Masked by leather jackets, red lips,
And pastel hair dye.
I wear fake battle scars on the outside
So people don't dare look in.
Michelle Garcia Sep 2016
Sometimes victory is the first step. The turn of a doorknob. The cry for help. Victory is finally getting up to eat dinner after crying silently on your bedroom floor when the weight of the world collects like dictionaries upon your shoulders. It is eating that bowl of ice cream anyway, even when the same voices that have haunted you for years keep attempting to shrink you into a skeleton shadow. It is dressing up in the morning when all you want to do is let scorching hot water carve paths down your spine, forgetting the sound of all the voices you have ever heard because it causes you to wonder just when yours disappeared. It is reading a poem in front of your class, hands and voice shaking like palm trees in hurricane wind. It is realizing that some people will pretend to understand the fire of your soul yet cower in your presence due to the terror of getting burned. It is realizing that you are not immune to this, susceptible to creating madness in the nights you keep searching for, but cannot find, any air left to breathe.
It is admitting you are weak. It is choosing to believe the I-love-yous even when they hang above your head like chandelier glass. It is falling asleep shattered yet committed to wake up anyway. Victory is hidden in the idea that tomorrow, as lonely as today has painted it,


exists.
AStarsHeartbeat Jun 2017
There are two roads astray
Both leading the same way
One is right, one is wrong
One is filled with light but the other doesn't belong
I assume I know which is right
It's obviously the one with light
But it leads me to the labyrinth that is my mind
I'm scared to death by what I find;
I see the battle going on within
Both sides fighting but neither will win
A few small words are all it takes
To save the lives and lower the stakes
To stop the battle before its begun
To prevent deaths caused by a sword or gun
To the outside world I show a neutral face
All sorrow vanishing without a trace
But inside my head lies a scattered mess
And no one to save the damsel in distress
Prince Charming is fighting in the war
Not knowing who he's fighting for
Until it finally comes to one a side
Both charging forward prepared to collide
The battlefield is no place for anyone...
So why do I stay still instead of run?
Phia Sep 2016
I want to know about
all your battles and wars
And I'll show you my scars
If you show me yours.
Jim Marchel Aug 2016
Pacify my war-torn soul
With your white-flag lips
And breath of sun.
My body needs peace
And it wants to surrender
To a gentler place
Where touches are tender.

Pacify my warring spirit
With your knock-out fists
And soldier's gun.
My body aches to ache
And pain in my sender
To a beautiful place
Where malice is mender.
There are many kinds of love, but all love is war.
Priyanshi Dhawan Aug 2016
I've lost.
In the dilemma of thy love, my lover,
I've lost myself.
To those endless confusions, I swear,
I lost my mind somewhere.
In the way those lips curl up to another lie,
I've lost my sense of realizations.
I've lost my sight to those hazy illusions
You put up to fake another try
And when they laugh at me
Shun me, with the truth
As I look at you
As if you're a painting
I sigh.
I've lost to your voice
Speaking to me
Whispering of thy love
My lover, I've lost this battle
With myself.
With this world.
And for one last time, as I look at you
As a puzzled mess of imperfect flaws,
With a sigh,
I feel.
I win back my senses.
I realize.
You're actually a painting.
Not to be weaved into poetry by me.
You're someone else's
You're beauty.
To someone else.
Because, i, with nothing more left to lose,
Have lost myself and everything else
In the dilemma of thy love, my lover.
And now I don't know
If I love you more, or my love for you.
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