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Audrey Feb 2020
I sit perched on hot summer high wires
swaying in warm dusty winds
watching those who cannot fly
and I pity them

I have a choice to sit or slip into the blue
I have two choices
and you only have you
Aaron L Osgood Feb 2020
I usually write a poem before the title.
Like a book full of stories before they named it “The Bible”.

Phase 1:
I wrote my name and didn’t consider it as a gamble.
One out of many as my identity scrambles.
It’s a possibility that we met just on different channels.
All game shows are the same just different panels

Phase 2:
Let’s meet and greet, then after enjoy my defeat.
I’ll laugh on the inside trying to keep it discreet.
Then again, I could be the loser.
I tend to always jinx my own future.
No smile on my face, I don’t see the humor.
Lost in the game and laughed by the viewers
No money in my pockets, just more for the producers.
Good Game I guess!

Phase 3:
Am I a living contestant gambling with my life?
Out to find a better version of me trying to survive.
Money spent with confidence and carrying my pride.
I play to win, aware of consequence, yet I’m still staying alive.
I wasn't raised to learn by myself
I was raised to lean on others for help.
I was told I could never go around or beyond
the corner of the block or leave the lawn.
I'm terrified of going anywhere, of standing on my own feet.
The way I was raised is evident in my skills.
I stayed indoors most of my life,
I watched the other kids from behind the windowsill
I never learned how to do the simplest of things
After my first fall on a bike, with a small little scrape upon my knee.
I was taught that if I can't do it once, there's no point in even trying.
Any opportunity I had to learn a basic skill,
was put to waste, as I was shoved aside after my first few tries and told,
"If you can't do it, I will."
Now I get in trouble, for the things I never knew.
As after every single attempt,
"Forget it, I'll do it," is what I hear.
When I'm told to do something that would be considered basic,
I require a detailed set of instructions so that I may achieve it.
With all these chances that I was completely ridden,
company was another thing that I was never given.
During all the summers, where I was all home alone,
despite it being mid-July, it was always freezing cold.
An only child is how I was born and raised.
I had full conversations with myself in fear of becoming bored.
I strive to be listened to, I strive to be heard,
I try and I try, yet I still cannot utter a word.
Told to stay silent, told to stay still, with no personal experiences
I have no personal will.
A poem from an only child
Bhill Feb 2020
Examine yourself
Which direction should you go
You do have choices

Brian Hill - 2020 # 37
Robby Feb 2020
If tomorrow didn’t come
If it was all black and nothing
No more feelings no more me
Would you still be where you are?
Would I live on in your head?
Would your heart still whisper my name?
Memories of me would fade away
Carried off in the breeze
Maybe sometimes you’d remember
You’d see my face in the crowd
Or hear my voice say your name
Listen to a song that makes you cry
Never forget me… keep me alive
Keep me with you forever no matter what
Amanda Kay Burke Feb 2020
I knew our decisions were misguided

And I chose to make them despite that knowledge

I wanted you and I to act in harmony

Needed to know every heartbeat pulsating from our two chests was in perfect synchronization
And I was right
Kyle Duran Feb 2020
Accept yourself

You may not like it,
but you will set
your mind free

Once accepted
nothing can set you back,
as understanding is
freedom of doubt
What do you think?
Kyle Duran Feb 2020
All I heard was the ocean

No signs of rain

Footsteps to a forgotten memory

All parks are closed

A lonesome walker passes by

What seem like hours
were only two footsteps
from point A to B

What happened?

The undertow must have
taken its hold

Moving me about
like a
washing machine


12-14-18
What do you think?
Kyle Duran Feb 2020
It hit hard
Warm water streams
through your hair

It’s salty, or so you think

Eyes open up, fireworks
Sitting on a blanket with friends

More water, though not as noticable
as the first wave

A tree, glowing with lights
and family all around

Hair wet and your shirt
changing colors

A field, full of trees
of silver

Walking in peace

The surf’s up

2018
The poem has many meanings, I'd love to hear yours.
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