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Robi Banerjee Jun 2014
I hang from your words like they’re gallows,
dripping, running, hardening like melting tallow,
I escape your mouth, only to fall into your eyes,
spurned twice, but still I want you thrice,
you burn, and I am a child who cannot learn,
mark me a fool with the nails in your mouth,
plough furrows into my back, till my land,
still my words, breathe my stale lungs,
feel my rough hands on your mountain roads,
my feet on yours, barely treading water.

I would steal the wings from the birds, the fins
from the fish and the limbs from the beasts,
rip the stars from the sky and the trees from the soil,
dry the sky for your parasol, and I would gladly
burn the entire world for just a little light to see you by.
As seen on Apostatements
(apostating.wordpress.com)
maggie W May 2014
My voice is a wall of glass
On the both side of the wall it's all the same

The roof is consisted of umbrella-shaped beams
The world is an embroidered web
I'm a spider that don't spew silk
cling on to intertwining iron bars
Accidentally chocked my fly to death
Buried it in the oblivion sky

Fed on chitchat
I'm now becoming a skinny,
wind up bird.
Translated from my uncle's poem
Michaela Apr 2014
I wasn't made to bend or fold
always knew what in my hands I hold.

There is always a choice
and never will I be afraid to use my voice.

Nothing can stop me
but why is it that I am not free?

What is it that I lack
that always holds me back?

All I ever wanted
was to paint my life red

Live loud
despite the silent crowd

Love freely
even if others thought it was silly

I wish I was brave enough to hold on to happiness
but this is the truth that nobody says:

You are only as happy as you choose to be
and making that decision is what sets you free.
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