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mes Feb 8
I want to be in love in a way that
my surroundings change
with every beat of my heart
and I notice nothing but
the someone I love
our souls vivid like a dream
where there is no common ground
Lee Aaun Feb 2
It is not a
common story.
It is a
piece
of our
LOVE.
My wife sadly died a year ago but since then my struggles have been of many because now of difficulties of paying
bills
I've now been summoned
to court just like a common criminal for twenty years
my life was stable with my wife, just managing to get by and that all I wanted now
But I'm struggling to buy food can't heat my home
because there Is no compassion any more from a government that doesn't care, but I'm not going to lie down and
die
I'm going have my say through my poetry writing and try to help other's who are also struggling
Sat In the street on a freezing day a homeless man and his dog I watched people passing bye If he were not there
so walk up to him gave £2
and ****** his dog told him
go buy a warm drink
why?
because I have compassion
for the human race,who have long since been forgotten by the rich and greed of this
world
From once stable life to a common criminal whilst struggle with grief
Arcassin B Jan 24
By Arcassin Burnham

These people just keep finding reasons.
Anything to be inspired to be petty,
I could get there with you , let me know if you're ready,
Treading lightly but we slow up steady,
I will not fall for the powers that carry,
Ignorance in this wicked world happily buried,
Time is wasting.
And I will not waste it on you,
or any girl or any female that think it's cute put a man
In the weak spot,
A lot of ****** and ******* yeah we got alot,
With no common ground but leave you on dots,
I got to honest here , sometimes they like to ruin your
name,
And with only name like mine, not hard to pinpoint
my range.

So all over I'm in enemy territory ,until I leave the state,
I got so many people that hate me, don't know if imma
die anyday.

To the full the void,
Not play with toys,
To be a man,
And not a boy,
This world is cruel, not for the weak,
But the people love to destroy.
©abpoetry2019

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2019/01/found-lot.html
Juhlhaus Jan 23
A sidewalk canvas
Half done slush
An oil slick
Twice frozen ice
And boots that slip
A train just missed
The red eyes glare
Rain that floats
In sour air
Brutalized concrete
Bleeding rust
Filthy floors
And alley walls
Spent cigarettes
In every nook
Steel that shrieks
In cold protest
Blue lights
And a defiant poet
On every corner
An inventory of materials.
Abby M Dec 2018
Is a common turtle really different from a crab?
They both make their ways slowly, across the dirt and sand.
The mouth and claw don't differ much in ways they're used to grab.
Could a common turtle really be a green-shelled crab?
Girard Tournesol Nov 2018
The chime of common things
Keeps time with chords of wind
Calls me a soft note
In the music of the spheres
Sameer Denzi Nov 2018
Some bow down in prayer frequently
But all they get is tired
Some indulge in fasting punctually
But all they get is hungry
Some go on a pilgrimage repeatedly
But all they get are selfies
Some donate generously to charity
But all they get is vanity
Some read the scriptures literally
And all they get are 'dos' and 'don'ts'
PS Nov 2018
I still can’t find the words
Because, perhaps, a part of me feels
That you’ll look at me like I have ten heads
If I say how I cannot heal.

Perhaps I don’t want to heal at all,
Now I am a vulnerable, scorned thing.
The looks of realisation passing over their faces
As I tell my sorry story, my frightening fabula.

The tale of poppies and lilies and
The coldest winter I have ever known.
I was skin and bone with a ******* coat
And I didn’t like who it was that I was.

The tale of glassy eyes and cold ones
And throwing yourself at me
The tale of black and white pudding
Of Brett Ashley and Daisy Buchanan
Of ostentatiousness unrivalled.

I still can’t find the words
I’m angry, sad, tearful in public alone
Confused and bewildered.
Is that how you love someone?
Or claim that you do?

Is that the ‘nice thing’ you’re holding back?
Is that the swivelling chair or the casting couch?
Is that why I cannot seem to get over it?
Not over you, it.

And you say you weren’t well at the time.
I supposed we were both stuck clinging to each other
To broken to move away, to scared to be alone.
But no, this isn’t an excuse.

I still can’t put it into words
How profoundly odd I feel these days
You didn’t hurt me but you hurt me
And all I can see if your smirking face.
‘Calm down, you’re gorgeous.’

Oh, I could hate a hurt like that.
My sorry story, fantastic fabulam
Is it too posh if I speak outside English?
Why do you care? You knew who I was.
You know who I am.
You know.

And I’ll bet you also can’t find the words
So you hide behind cheap drinks and albums
And everything scummy because you despise who it is that you are.
Hoi polloi, the common man.
Whatever ‘common people do.’

I still can’t put it into words
And I don’t want to.
It’s too complex and I don’t have the energy to tell a story
To tell the world of the war I won
The hollow victory, the end of our empire.
Red lips, red boots, silver shoes.
Go to sleep, it’s over now.
Pretty sure I can’t speak Latin but who cares?
Mary Frances Oct 2018
It's amazing how your words,
simple they may seem,
make me speechless.

It's amazing how your words,
common they may seem,
make me feel very special.

It's amazing how your words,
true they may seem,
make me want to stay in a dream.

It's just amazing that even your words
make me feel so loved.
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