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Pyrrha Jan 2019
One day these grey clouds that linger above
Will give up and allow their rain to fall
The droplets like an echo of my love
A shadow of the leaves that fell in fall

I long to reach up with my hands and grab
Those hideous clouds I wish would crash
Your sign is cancer, the sign of the crab
It seems we are not meant to be, we clash

But I know your eyes, eyes I can't evade
For that I become a slave to that grey
They bear into me as if to invade
I have no complaint, I only say stay

My hearts the flame that you always enrage
Trapping me in passions bottomless cage
This is my first attempt at writing a sonnet
I don't know any cancer signs... it just needed to rhyme
Iz Jan 2019
There’s a hole in your throat
Where your harsh words
were once birthed
Your once strong exterior
Is now slouching flesh
You’re wrinkled, worn
The chemo left you sick
Luna Jay Jan 2019
We planted the forest to hide one tree.
We our drowning our fish to flood polluted seas.
Brothers, capturing others does not self free.
Mother Earth is dying. Sisters, hear her pleas.
Constructing iceboxes to contract the big freeze.
Cloning our society; the big keyhole squeeze.
Cancer floats in the air- Doctors begin to wheeze.
Father Time…
Look at what you´ve done to me.
Allison Wonder Jan 2019
I'm tired of lies.
I'm so **** confused.
Are you real or
am I being used?

Hope shouted out
with joy from the shrine.
Believe in Him,
leave fear behind.

Entrust your faith
and you shall recieve,
everything we've taught
our flock to believe.

Except for those
who go above and beyond.
Rather, in pain
their lives shall be donned.
Allison Wonder 2019
Rafał Jan 2019
Welcome, sir, and get up to the last dance.
Not my fault - you made the choice when you went through the entrance.
Have a little bit of patience, though,
I'm in demand on this masquerade.

Oh, how the lights flicker, see? And the shadows spoil my senses.
That's a tad senseless of you to get on my nerves - offensive...
But I understand the sentiment, you are restless,
Well, I never let you close your eyelids once you drop the curtains.
All the offenses a gentleman like you keeps in his memories,
You are a cancer to the working class.

Your defense is - you desired to be wealthy.
Have a glass of gin, your mouth seems filthy.
The oppression you have built, indeed
Needed  a mastermind, alike to mine
A nine to five would not be fine for us.
The masses abiding us; we even control the foreigners.

Please observe my lovely smile,
This balet - stand on your toes and prance around.
Like the puppet on the strings I have pulled a thousand times.
Are you sure you are worthy to see through my disguise?

Pardon me, sir, henceforth
I'm your conscience, the one you have cancelled
Hidden in the stacks of gold
But the truth is, a soul can't be sold.

Weep, my dear, in quiet sorrow.
For us, as it turns out, there is no tomorrow.
The combination of ***** and alcohol
Is known of being thorough.
All this injustice you have caused
Was working on the time you had borrowed.
The poem depicts the moments before the death of a powerful magnate/dictator who has acquired wealthiness by oppression of poor people.
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