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Aditya Roy Jan 4
Took a break from work,
Decide to write a poem
And I thought of you...
In blankets,
LOoking for a song,

You're living in a fascinating world
Where the languages are different
But the people are selfish and
Lost at sea
Torn apart at the seams

The poem's page is torn into pieces
The message is still on the phone
As a text
I have 12 minutes
Before I take you to pieces
Look at your ashes
They all burn to seamless
Floating on the breeze
Dusty windows at the yellow dawn
Of green day
Of ******'s release
"Be a man," keep them out noisy Irishmen break the fight with Italian stilettos from the shop of the British. Irishmen you'll be done when we’re done with ya. But stay in your country.
Mikel May 2018
When will I know the past passed?
Is this test my last task?
I don’t stop to smell the flowers I gotta gas mask
Down time is fermented in an oak cask
Phoebe Hynes Jan 2017
Suburbia,
Peeking,
and peaking,
through clouds,
A perfect approach,
to uncivilized,
civilization.

A fixed grid,
With squinty lights,
more apparent,
escorted by
a squished eyeful.

Oh,
The American Dream.
Block after block,
continues to block,
my thoughts,
the writer in my heart.

Cars,
are,
less efficient ants.
The American puppets.

I'm only a **** playing the sky.
Seeking,
secrets,
from whatever brought me,
above the clouds,
before.

— The End —