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Douglas Balmain Jan 2022
Comfort's embrace is
false and choking.
The masses gag in
their sleep, subdued
by its silken constraints.
Timothy Jan 2022
Decoupled from my conscience of subjective discernment
The necessity for personal authority over impulse
Vs an instantly gratifying road to distraction
Journey of wilful blindness
Consequential destination deferred
But upon arrival lies the choices
To decouple, To adjourn
Or to confront the demons towards which my back I have turned
Self-romanticised truths to whom before I have spoken
Yet despite a colourful history our personal promises lay broken
Under the rug
Etched into the bottom of a bottle
A chasing of tails
Ignorance long forgotten
A cycle indeed
But of downward trajectory
Gratefully, the bottom of which yet to be met by me
But somehow graced by others
With stronger character than I
A slippery *****
An exponential decent
Over which I now maintain a watchful eye
My Dear Poet Dec 2021
Your crooked smile and sinister lips
make it hard for me to fix this kiss
My Dear Poet Jan 2022

.
in
her
eyes
there is a
butterfly on
fire flickering
from her
lies

.
In
her iris
it spreads like
virus fluttering
as it slowly
dies

.
in
the
white
of the yoke
tears now soak
her wings and
her cries
.
My Dear Poet Dec 2021
It takes only one true kiss
to erase the lies tattooed on your lips
My Dear Poet Sep 2021
Can I ask for love
Without the romance
Without the slow dance
Without the holding of hands
Give the kiss, a miss
necklace and jewelries
without the emotional abuse
The manipulation we use
like flowers or presents
The chocolate selections
The dinner pretension
The relational misuse
and the facade we choose
When love in truth
is the exception
Samir Mohammed Aug 2021
Blur the lines
Between the tides
Swim with me
In the sea of lies
And you will see
Who I am inside
Samir Mohammed Jul 2021
Your words are like poison
Venom from a snake
On my tongue like medicine
I love the way it tastes
Samir Mohammed Jul 2021
You say I've changed
Into something I can't recognise
Yet still I wage
War on your cold scathing eyes

So tell me who
The predator or the prey?
You look into the mirror
And see everyday

True colours are but shades
Wearing them like an effigy
Plastic, like make believe tales
Is this who I'm meant to be?
My Dear Poet Jul 2021
Frankie said, “Jane’s okay”
and Jane,…well
she never really liked
Frankie’s way,
Yet his charm and that tattoo
of ‘Mom’ on his arm
made him seem like a nice boy

You see…
he never won her heart
just stole her mind
“In just a matter of time”
he’d brag, “She’ll be mine”
no sooner she was won
with a ring fit for her thumb
Frankie found himself a new toy
So sad
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