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Ahmed Usman Apr 2014
An artist paints himself in memories
and long lost dreams of yesteryears
lying in a field of laughing daffodils
he waters each with endless tears

Placing a box of love that never was
with shaking hands upon the shelf
wondering why it’s so hard to find
while he cannot love or find himself

Recklessly navigating a sea of sorrow
wishing to dive into its deadly deep
but lacking the courage for even that
a child slowly cries himself to sleep
One magpie on my balcony
makes me finally begin to feel
I am in the need of company from
Either the only thing that is real
Benign life being alone aloof or
To morn a dark separate from night in my sleep it took away from my eyes
All of my best years with a symphony
Of skeletal men set on high
Stabbing and singing me
These death lullabies
Howling my bones away
Hollow as child's play
One magpie Singing me to sleep

And the songbird gives me hope
When sleep offers no home
Waking up hours before the end of the day
Night
4.24.2014
cosmic poet Apr 2014
i'll spend forever
picking at threads on my sweater
and listening to the wolves howl to my wild side
soon the threads will unravel
and ill be free to embrace corruption
a corrupted soul is better that the light and weary
Jason Apr 2014
My life is split in two,
It always have been.
On one side,
A baloon,
Drifting in the air.
But on the other side,
Im like a delicate crystal,
cracking slowly,
until one day,
it shatters.
    j.b
i Mar 2014
deadly sins,
              written on your
              dazed mind and
              *scarred body.
Ceryn Mar 2014
I don't want to go out and face the sunshine
when all that's reflected on my face and whole life
are the jagged wounds caused by last night's vicious rains,
the asperities of the storm that attacked my sunny days.

I just want to stay here forever (I dare ya'll)
amid great poets' lengthy chronicles and tell-all
inspired by life and love and hope and rebirth
the perpetuation of their luscious grudges beneath the earth.

As I crave for more chancy ideas to come out through words
I desire to ****** my people with a nasty yet vague curse
That whoever imperils me with anything but one shrewd call
In my deathly poetic verses, expect your worst and loudest brawl.

— The End —