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EP Robles Apr 2020
EDITORS are pathologist
that dissect the words,
flay the meanings
and remove the guts
-- burn me within
a furnace before
an editorial autopsy

:: 07-28-2014 ::

Rev: 05-20-2018
Alexandra Bakly Mar 2020
Healthy souls are dead, we are all just copies now
Unpolished Ink Mar 2020
That's me in the mirror

Slightly worn

Pages torn

Dropped in the bath

Marked with the inky notes of life

A dog eared copy

Of the girl I used to be
Àŧùl Feb 2020
You have been here to live,
Although just for few hours.
With me, you'll break the dawn,
You'll here come to thrive.

I invite you to my schön world,
Here, you would much enjoy.

Beckoning you towards itself,
This beautiful world of words,
It would be a physical reality,
These words will make me rich.

You'll be the catalyst of my deeds,
Oh, c'mon help me.

I have lived and lived again,
No God helped me.
Only parents were here for me,
When I lay in the death bed.

Don't be discouraged,
Desist judging me.

My potential I don't know,
This terrible destiny dumped me,
I so wish to change the world,
Correcting the mistakes of God.

Loneliness imprisoned me back then,
'Twas before you appeared on my horizon.

I forgot what happiness feels like,
You reintroduced me to it recently.
Gratefulness is ripe in my heart,
Like the sweet fruit of eternity.

You are the transcript of joy,
So I dub thee Transcription.
Schön is German for "beautiful"
My HP Poem #1824
©Atul Kaushal
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