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Amanda Jun 26
Happiness does not come packaged in prescription bottles
Or plastic baggie, top carefully sealed
It cannot be found at the bottom of empty shot glasses
Or finished beer cans, that is not where it's revealed.

Joy will not be found rolled up in a joint
Not discovered in a small cardboard box
Or scattered among powder lined on a mirror
I have scoured many vials stocked with shiny rocks.

Smoking herb might cause you to laugh and smile
Hallucinogens can open your mind
Fun feelings fade you'll feel worse than before
Without aid of drugs contentment will be hard to find.

Soon you will spend time chasing chemicals
In form of a ****, tab, straw, or syringe
Whether you puff, eat, snort or shoot
It comes down to the same unhealthy binge.

Do not waste your life wrapped in burnt-up foils
Foraging through crumbs for a shroud of hope
We all have different ways of escaping
Some fall too deep and never climb back up the steep *****.
Everyone knows I'm in over my head
Elle Kris Feb 27
My taste buds paint a picture so vivid
I have to say grace before I let my mind wander

Sitting on an apple tree,
I glimpsed unto the bees,
'Twas scantier the yesterday
Upon the silent deeds.

Today, on afternoon break,
Behind an ample hill,
I met this young with wagon
Who gathered crumbs for me.

Fingers trace

the crescent moon coffee stain
on the otherwise white napkin.

Nothing left
between us now
but donut crumbs.
This poetry form is called a Cherita.
Hannah Payne Dec 2016
Currently inhabited in the crevices on the walls
Separated from one side to the other,
Contemplating my fall.
Fixated on the perimeter
Collapsing in on me
My time and being is micro,
Micro-me is managed until the crevices release
My inevitable sea of crumbs.
My inevitable sea of crumbs.

Frequently gazing in the cracks on the floor
There's a light too bright coming in,
Impenetrable for my eyes,
Beneath lies a cultivating door.
Illustrating my final chances
But the floor's ascending on me,
Slowly taking me.
My time and being is micro
Micro-me is managed until the cracks receive,
My irrevocable sea of crumbs.
My irrevocable sea of crumbs.
Afiqah Oct 2016
I carry these clod of heavy sheaths
skin by skin
I rout out all the little crumbs
that's been fed by the nemesis
every time the witching hour strikes
I try not to ***** a claw even the ones that were left sore
piecing them back together gets a little hard
each time
I foresee all of my tomorrow's caught
in a hasty outbreak of combat

The World’s perception of Christianity
is generally, an unimpressed disappointment;
we’re viewed as a collection of mongrel mutts,
housed at the local dog pound, foolishly
chasing rainbows for our lost contentment.

Although we’re not domesticated watchdogs,
collared and chained to the Master’s table
while begging for spiritual scraps of Faith,
they believe that we’re hoping for crumbs
to overcome a meager existence, simply unable

to grow and mature with the King’s wisdom.
If we’re not progressing with our victories
and experiences of success, the World’s view
and attitude will not change; therefore, we
need to develop our Faith and testimonies.
Author Notes

Inspired by:
Matt 15:27; Mark 7:28; Rev 12:11

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
amazon (dot) com

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Erin Suurkoivu Sep 2016
I created the tools.

I carved the stone and strung the bow.

I tracked the animal’s prints

across fresh snow.

I took careful aim,

steady, steady,

and then let go.

I brought you meat,

the liver & the heart,

and yet you

feast on crumbs.
Poetic T May 2016
I lay breadcrumbs of my emotions
for you to follow. Each was nourished
with essence that enticed your heart onward.

I lay breadcrumbs of my thoughts
for you to listen too. Each sustained
with true meaning of delicate spoken words.

I lay breadcrumbs so many times,
some got lost along the way, others
never interested stale crumbs then faded away.

I lay breadcrumbs, but I started to follow
yours, and with each morsel grazed upon
I found the door to your heart & love had won.

"A breadcrumb trail to a hearts beating path,
*"Who's trail will you follow today,
ji Nov 2015
When you feel like I'm starting to slip away, ask these unmade sheets how many times I've said I never want to see you go over eyes that flood tears. They'd tell you. Perhaps the warmth of my skin has lingered on its fibers. Wrap it around your body; feel my embrace.

When you feel like I'm getting cold, place your ears on these walls of white and eavesdrop to every remnant echo of burning, unsaid "I love you." They'd tell you. Find solace in the whispers of my love, in every heartbeat these walls would reverberate.

I wish you don't, but when you feel like I've never truly loved you, read every word I wrote to every inch of my red notebook. They'd tell you. I left my heart there... every single tiny crumb.
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