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Tony Tweedy Feb 2020
I wake up to clear blue skies and the brightest sunny day
But despite it all my mood is tainted by the deepest sense of grey.

My eyes give rise to tears that are flowing from my inner core
Yet I have no clear reason of why my tears have need to pour.

Tears and darkest greyness at the beginning of my day
No reason see I for them but still the mood must have it's say.

Deep waves of souls dark despair as I wipe my tears away
I prepare my public face, to hide my heart, as I go out into the day.
Forcing the body to start... endure... a souls fight to survive.
B D Caissie Oct 2019
To knowingly deprive someone of their happiness is a form of cruelty that not even the hardest of men could endure.

©
Nina Sep 2019
I'm not sure how long more
I can pretend to be happy
How long more
I'd be able to put this fake smile on my face
Endure my panic attacks
Living the day hiding the pain

Everything is going down hill
Nothing is getting better

I dont know
How long more
I'd be able to endure
Before i do something bad
Once again
A M Ryder Aug 2019
The arrow endures
The bow string's tension
So that in the release
It can become
More than itself
Jeramy Souder Aug 2019
They say time heals all
But I still feel the pain

The clock ticks
Each second wasted without you

Even if you’re gone
Time marches on

I must do what is right
And endure the pain
Cameron Jul 2019
The brightest flame in my life dimmed before my eyes
The light went out, she disappeared into the night.
To another, her flame begins  to glow,
To another, her heart begins its show.

The warmth hidden in her glow kept my fires burning.
Now it’s gone, the fire quenched, my heart cold.
But deep cold feels warm when filled with yearning.
And with this tragic warmth, I preserve your warmth for another.

The purest of affections are yours to share.
You choose to share it with whom you care.
Although my fire is but a remnant of the past,
I choose to share it with you, that your fire may last.

When the one I loved didn’t love me back
My fire burned cold it needed love back
As you share your flame with another,
I will endure in my cold dark slumber.
The glow in the one I loved kept my heart's fire lit. Now it's gone, and all I want is for her to be happy. Though that kind of happiness is forbidden to me, it brings me joy to know that at least somebody else gets to experience it.
shamamama May 2019
-----------I weave my grand                     mother's spirit to life--------
             when I paint with my             words what she dreamed
             in her life.  My grandmother's kimono sat in the dark never
            worn; so needs a     dusting--I lift it up      into this light to be
           seen, to be heard,      to be felt, fabric of          loving  heart
          dreams to be.  It's     not perfectly shaped   or tattered or torn,
         rather fermented       beyond her time  to      take form.  My
       Grandma loved  to        eat her white rice          she ate thirty
      seven million grains      of rice by the time         she reached her
      104-- Born on a             sugarcane plant'tion         on the coast of
     Oahu, a child in               the tropics then a       teen in Japan. Her
    family returned to          their roots to learn,    & grow, reenter the
   cultural force. She                discovered her              new talent as
                                            ------------------------------
                                  ­              K  I   M   O  N  O          
                                               ­     A R T I S T
                                            --------------------­----------
                                       Kikuyo  Yamamoto became
                                     liberated as an artist and then
                                     her life changed as her family
                                    demanded she leave her position
                                   and marry away to a Japanese man
                                    who lives in California (my Grand
                                    father).  The matchmaker said it
                                     would work really well....She
                                   endured life as an American farm
                                     wife, then life in Japanese intern-
                                    ment camps. Five  children, nine
                                    grandchildren...Dear Grandmother
                                     I know you had lots to surrender-
                                           I honor your life as mother,
                                           grandmother, and artist --I
                                          wove this poem in the form
                                       of  a kimono for you  May your
                                         spirit rest in peace. I love you.
This poem is woven with rememberence on the eve of mother's day, to honor and love the enduring nature of my grandmother. Long ago she shared with me, her possibility of a career in sewing kimonos when she was a 20 year old in Japan, and how it was not a choice within her family. Marriage was the way. She was born in 1909, and lived till 104---she loved her bowls of rice; I have heard each grain of rice is a god, so may she be empowered 7 million times over with the god of rice in her spirit belly.
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