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Petals of  dried flower  
Lay fallen dry and dull ...
Happy fragrance sent around
On glorious colourful days
Fades from memory..
As  songs loses its words
And words loses its music...
And trying to hear the unsung song
I feel fallen....
With no glorious past
Or colourful future!!
I was woken up by a nightmare.
I woke up in the middle of the night
when I had fallen asleep
and a poem was finished.
The silence makes the painting 
in the air I breathe,
feel heavy, feel suffocating.
My throat is dry.
And on such a thirsty night,
a poem ordered an inkbox
and a piece of paper,
and I ordered a bottle of beer
and a cigarette and also a lighter,
and night ordered

itself for me.
Indonesia, 29th December 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
mark soltero Aug 2021
excruciating disgust boiling inside
push down into my wounds
bleed myself dry
because i am but a weak man
with no spine
looking above
spit dripping down my lip
salt excreted out of my pores
gasping for the strength to melt away
i cry at night
rotting away because i’m not right
misused and disregarded
i am the rotten apple
when you picked me
you were mistaken
because you didn’t check the other side
Merlie T Jul 2021
I need not use full sentences
I cannot if I want to express
The structure confines, represses, degrades
the integrity of the cries
Help me speak
My throat, mouth too dry
so dry, I do not have tears

Salt crystalized and formed the rock
mounds glowing orange
in the dessert sunset
my spirit rests, crushed to rubble
like ash
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2021
The Sahara seeing me
sigh in the desert
asked me why I cry?
I am left alone, I replied.

'I see, but you got tear,'
it hissed out.
I said, perhaps like me
first, you had an wet eye,
now is all dry!
the well is dry
i cannot collect water
i cannot sustain life

the river is swollen with toxic mud
i cannot cross to the other side
i cannot escape this

the grasslands have not seen rain in many years
the smallest spark could destroy this place
and i am awash in static

i sit under a long dead tree
and try to rest
and try to remain still

for to move is to cause a cataclysm
yet to remain stagnant is to cause my own demise

the wildlife that did not flee the drought have perished
the scavengers that came to pick apart the carcasses are gone as well

only i remain
the monarch of nothing
but bones and barren earth
Lee Aaun Mar 2021
i wonder if tears
really dry out,
or we don't care anymore
we don't feel it
Svetoslav Mar 2021
Flowers are melting
hands grasping snowflakes
dry wet life from sand.
Snow turns into sand
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