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old willow May 2020
A thousand year of times,
Southern river has since dried,
Dynasty long gone,
Worldly goods no longer remains,
Only fragmented memories of the ancient.
What was a blink of an eye,
Is a thousand-year below...
AP Vrdoljak Apr 2020
A rumble calls
A false cry for rain
Wither the plants
In a dry spring’s pain
Greg Muller Mar 2020
Set out from the sandy shore.
The lake an everlasting Paramore.

The boat breaths like my hearty chest
Up and down upon the waves white-tipped crest

Overhead the birds squawk in a one-note tune.
Like a harpsichord playing an unknown song.

Turning away from the sun
The blue ocean becomes glum Black sunglasses fall further on my face.

Water droplets still find my smiling face.
Sailing wind drives us away from my starting place

A Call
A Shout.
Turning on my breath

A shoreman’s happiest wish
A fresh face for whom to softly kiss.

The boat turns toward our shore.

Leading us to both softly tip
Without a word on our fearless lips

Docking us once more
Upon the sandy shore.
D Feb 2020
words barely flow, the rivers of my mind are dry
my heart has too many emotions all vying to die
on a page in my notebook, or as code on your screens
but the drought is severe so they stay put in my dreams
this was a different poem with the same title but I didn't like it so it'll live in my head instead. what even are words, structure who? ugh.
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2019
Keep puffing poisonous clouds
I feel stress decrease
Lost like my former self
Keep searching for inner peace

Things are so out of place
Been ****** up for awhile
Try to keep my mind right
Hosting self-blame and denial

I obstruct noise with music
Block distractions with volume
Worries barge in large groups
Interrupting speakers loud tune

Nothing quiets my ever-screaming thoughts
No sound drowns my troubled brain out
Tried but am incapable of
Changing what I think about

Sometimes I lose control and cry
It's the only thing I can
In bed dreaming happy futures
Hope to get there but have no plan

Fall asleep before pillows dry
Fall apart when dusk creeps in
Negativity held in place by lies
Like laundry hung on clothespins

Love is our ultimate weakness
Only great fools believe otherwise
We escape life through others
That is our true demise
If we cannot escape death, let us at least escape life; through love.
Moe Nov 2019
your hands are etched
with tiny dry lines
that cut
each one-way road to nowhere.
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2019
The ancient rose
still dips in a still dew
it will not dry.
The seven seas sway
rock on the way!
Simon Oct 2019
Flowers dry up when there not impressed with themselves. Withering back down below depths of uncertainty. Prompting joy that shouldn't exist. Commenting on a bigger structure that is not from within. It's around them. Circumventing proudly for all to see. If you aren't impressed with yourself. Then how will you bloom again for all to see?
Flowers hide themselves when they feel they aren't good enough. Everyone hides themselves behind there own blooming effect.
Anastasia Sep 2019
i can't even cry anymore
my eyes are so dry
they water throughout the day
but when i need to let my heart spill
they dry up
like
the world is forcing me to be strong
but i can't
i don't want to
im not strong enough
i just want to be weak for a while
please
just
let me cry
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