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Yaser Jun 2017
Observe, oh friend
as it writhes in agony, intangible.

For all that I have granted it -
It feels, yet can not feel
It sees, but still it is blind

For I have blessed it
with accursed memmories
With thoughts that merely aggravate
With dreams, oh treacherous dreams!
Visions that intrude
and strike anguish into the heart
that I did sculpt
with these forsaken hands

For he does live, oh silent friend
Oh yes! He lives!
But will never truly know
what it means
to be alive
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Seanathon Apr 2017
I have been focused and growing
I have been strong
But now I see it's not the time
Nor the place
To build you a house
Or a home in which I belong
I'm his timing. Not mine. But that doesn't make it any less difficult. To stop trying. At least the trying therein becomes demoralizing.
Steve Aug 2016
It's a builders life for me
Building worlds of empathy
With blocks of imagination
Yes it's a builders life for me
Building walls of brevity
With bolts of inspiration
Oh it's a builders life for me
Building bridges of complexity
With planks of concentration
Builders built the world you see
And they did it all so skilfully
It's humanities foundation.

© Copyright SE August 2016
Steve May 2016
A silly old sod on a building site
Couldn't figure it out try as he might
Lined up there against a wall
Two shovels one pointed and one quite tall
But when asked to take his pick
He stood scratching his head, the daft we ****
Carter Ginter Oct 2014
The mason trudges on
night and day to finish
his masterpiece. Clockwork,
he waits like a prisoner
for the jurisdiction to
fall in his favor. Each
opportunity: he will steal it.
Adhesive to stone and
metal support:
This wall will not
fall. No, this one he will not
let dissemble. Opposing the
prior ruin, plagued
with age and abuse,
the once damaging blows
instead drive this puzzle together.

Attend carefully.
Every door slammed behind
to shut me out,
Each painful stab in your glace
lancing through my chest, into
the black cavity life has consumed
into me.
He will work
to layer his project, this
projection of my cautions, until
the last glimmer of light disappears
behind the last stone in the
last wall. Now a true prisoner,
my mind lies
in contentment.
figurative metaphor for the wall my mind builds to keep people out
Brielle Byrne Jul 2014
I’ve got splinters in my smile from where
supporting beams were yanked away
lips tumbling to the ground.
Crashing into a pile of
cracked words and rotting promises
that they whispered into my mouth.

Come along and walk past the *******,
compiled from pieces of frontal lobes and broken vocal cords
unable to ever remember the vibrations
that once worked as a fireplace heating the soul.

But I invite you to rebuild.
Be my master builder.

— The End —