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Sophie Hartl Dec 2014
watching time go by
with you
is like carving your name into a katalox.

we guard the time
trying to slow down the inevitable
like growing young again.

staring at the small figures
that determine the night
that was once ours.

clawing onto the clocktower,
holding onto the arms
that don't stop for us.

a battle always lost,
time as inexorable as our love
and the pain we will meet.

the death we will kiss
on the cold black lips
after we see that the once seemingly unstoppable things

become needless with time.
still playing around with this one & seeing how it will turn out in the end
kaylene- mary Dec 2014
From here we stomp to war
Soldiers standing tall
Soon we'll watch them crawl
The battle cries
The future dies
Bodies bruised and blistered
And begging for more
They rattle inside my head, thoughts of you bouncing of the walls.

They jump and fly in and endless chase, as my mind begins to race

They chain me and consume me, control me with their power

Thoughts of you trap me like a jail covering up my mind

And yet they set me free, like nothing before

Shining a light in darkness as they hold me tight within

Images of past and future flash across my eyelids

Memories battling hopes

Thoughts of you cause battles to ensue and destruction of my mind

And yet they bring a calming peace, with images of a happy time

Thoughts of you rattle inside my head bouncing of the walls. Slowly driving me insane
Please repost and comment with any interpretations
Hunter K Dec 2014
You go after her mother,
Then his little brother,
How many lives must you take?
You swarm on my friend's father,
And my aunt's daughter,
When will all this madness stop?

Cancer, go away.
No one wants you here,
Begone i say,
Didn't you hear?
We will get rid of you,
Even if its the last thing we do,
We work all day and night,
Battling this endless fight.

So close to the answer,
To get rid of you cancer,
Any kind in any place,
Before you wipe out our whole race!

I promise you,
You wont stay long,
Because i know this is very true,
You may be strong,
But we will not be proven wrong.
T'was the night before Christmas
And with everything done
The kids were all dreaming
Of Christmas Day fun
The tree was completed
We had wrapped all the toys
When from the basement below
We heard a faint noise
I sprung from the couch
Took off down the stairs
On my way through the kitchen
I tripped on two chairs
I slid down the staircase
To the base of my house
And there with my shortbreads
Was a ****** great mouse
My wife followed close
And then she let out a shriek
She saw me and the mouse
And she started to freak
He nibbled the cookie
and he ran past my nose
right down my torso
Then he stopped at my toes
My wife was still screaming
The mouse didn't care
He continued his running
On under the stairs
I crawled to my workshop
Grabbed the first thing I found
A mallet for pounding
That mouse in the ground
I limped to the staircase
And I swung at the wall
I again lost my balance
And again, I did fall
I put two holes in the riser
Two more in the tread
I was gonna keep swinging
Till that mouse was dead
I broke the one lightbulb
That lit up the room
Now I was worried
I couldn't see...found the broom
I stepped on one end
Squared my self in the sack
I then heard a noise
The mouse had come back
I heard his slight skitter
As he went past my feet
He was off to the larder
For more stuff to eat
I went back to the workshop
Tripping at least three more times
I would finish this mouse
He would pay for his crimes
I grabbed for a lighter
And my large propane torch
I would hunt down this mouse
And his **** I would scorch
I lit up the propane
And I aimed at the stairs
It caught light on the carpet
And I burnt both those chairs
The flames went on upward
The stairs were quite dry
I laughed in hysterics
That **** mouse would fry
My wife had recovered
And decided to run
but, after seeing the flames
She phoned up 9 1 1
The mouse left the building
In fact, he never was found
The house burned in seconds
It collapsed to the ground
And through the whole scene
I just stood there and laughed
At the wreckage before me
And I thought, **** I'm daft
I had ruined our Christmas
And I burned down our house
Over a **** shortbread cookie
And one little mouse
The kids, they got out
And were wrapped up and warm
While I was creating
My own perfect storm
The gifts were all ruined
The house ...all consumed
And over my head
One large question loomed
If I had gone for the shotgun
And shot at the mouse
Would I be still having Christmas
And would I still have a house
My wife came on over
And she gave me a swat
She said "look what you've done"
"you great stupid ****"
I learned a great lesson
and folks ...it is that
Once I rebuild
I will then buy a cat!!!
No more time to waste
   time to put on my game face
The last battle is already won
       But this war
  Has only just begun
              Knives are thrown
   Screams and echoes
            Bounce off the walls
     Gun blasts and back fires
         my mind's too small
  Tight rope waking on electric wires
              Walls cave and bombs burst
The enemies yell out a curse
         This isn't as bad as before
  The blood and bodies cover less of the floor
            could've been worse?!?!
      I'm not really sure
  Too many ideas, too many discoveries
           Horrid lies told to me
     And lies I've told myself
  It's a mysterious battle in my mind
         My life is at stake
                  Isn't it strange?
        It's not fake, it's not a game
   Lives and souls are lost
        The ultimate cost
            But my mind rages on
  With this battle that cannot be won
          I'm tired, I'm burned out
   And the war in my mind
         Has only **just begun
Kara Jean Dec 2014
How ironic is it
that something as lovely as a Lisa Frank
butterfly-shaped bandaid
could cover something so ugly
(in both form and concept)
And oh,
There's no worse feeling than a relapse
into such an addictive hobby
(I thought I left that behind me)
How I miss the numb pressure
and the sting accompanying the post-period
of regret and infiltration
(Don't do it)
Welcome back
(Get out)
I'm trying so hard to keep it together
Makenzie Marie Dec 2014
sickly
is she
but happy she'll be
as we stick needles repeatedly
and run test
after test
on her aching
body
revealing
most always, nothing
every problem so sneaky.
Invisible illness.
one after another
just smiling
at the little lady.
With one
after another
reason to fear.

but happy I’ll be
to tell my story
in a manner so joyfully
to someone as worried as me.
who sees
as I pop
one
after another
handful of medication
a personal army
to defend the life
of the Chronically
me
Hi so this is me: over the past two years I've been on a journey of good health. coincidentally that journey has been mostly discovering how sick I am, and how much I need to do to function properly. It's been a roller coaster, and I've now been diagnosed with 5 Chronic illnesses, coming up on six soon I think. So this is my life. Chronically me, chronically sickly.

Positivity is key.
Chase Graham Dec 2014
Tracks by the creek
lead the charge,
a path for future pioneering troops,
boys aged six, seven, eight,
footprints made by me
and our gang
years ago,
running through the woods
chopping our own way
through tall grass, anthill fortresses
crushed by nikes, branches as swords,
sticks as arrows, grenade rocks,
a longing now to return
with them to backyard wilderness,
battlefields and armaments,
and rush forward
as a child soldier, fearless
in fantasy fray.
Just Melz Dec 2014
He didn't, and that was that.

There's no going back and erasing the past.

Life's too short not to forgive and forget.

Sometimes, there's just no time to justify where everything went wrong.

Time is a battle, a war you won't win, but you gotta push along.

Keep moving forward, you can't change the past or make it come back.

He didn't, she didn't, they didn't. It's time to accept and be okay with that.
The daily for December 6th, by Sean Critchfield titled "Poem By Chance" (check it out, it's amazing), was an exercise using the seventh book on the shelf, the seventh line on the seventh page as the first line, and only seven lines. I hope I did it right.
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