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she whispered to him, softly,
and asked to be laid down.
down on soft ground.
on soft soil.

she remained calm, studiously
watching her breath,
slowly pouring out
the life found
within the compounds
of her barren soul.

as she slithered her
fingers through the lively
green that surrounded,
she shed one singular,
embracing tear.

as the heavy droplet
trailed down her face
and touched the dense
earth, something happened.

something so pure and beautiful.

that one drop gave life
to the land around her,
it bloomed the flowers
and the animals rejoiced.

it cleared the skies and
filled the rivers.
it made the world a little warmer
than yesterday, and gave her
spirit a home, amongst
the others who had
done the same.

it was time.
her sacrifice, although in
short scene seemed unfair,
served a greater purpose.
so he let go, and let her rest.
alone and at peace.

she went.
with a smile
at the surface.

he understood what took place,

the exchange, of life.

i'd like for readers to comment on what they think this poem might be about and repost if you enjoyed, thank you!
Time is all I have to spend,
though, I'm not sure on the exchange.
I'm negotiable on how I lend,
I'm sure there's something we can arrange.

You see, Time is all I have to spend,
I can't sell it for minimum wage;
but if I really had to,
I guess I'd spend some Time in Rage.

Time is all I have to spend,
So, I put my pen to page.
Time, to me, holds Everything,
It's worth thinking how I engage.
Time is true currency. How do you spend yours?
What Was Lost In False Exchange

Wait. Why was this minstrel running?
Helter-skelter, with no safe place to hide;
A race seemed beyond waters and sand,
The rose he gave thrown onto blazing fire.

Willing to walk 1000 miles and more in a blizzard.
And the wounds I got won’t be healed with a plaster.
Sad still there exist no cure for stupidity.

Love would make one ride on false hope,
Owing the heart and body eternal apology,
Sure, it holds the entire tradition of cruelty;
Town to all forms of joy, pain and despair.

I live on the bank of blissful ignorance  –
Not knowing what’s nor what’s once were.

Fear what you can’t create nor can you force.  
As the sun sets slowly it held the moon closer:
Love is only found in books and in poetry.
Stars perplexed, wind jumbled, oceans standstill;
Even when you gave all they can’t accept?

Ever since I heart the idea of you,
X out were all the senses in me.
Caged by sadness and petulant cry,
Happiness and love are now foreign to me.
And it digs deeper and deeper and deeper:
Now, neither me can change this nor God.
Gathered are these memories, locked up with a tear;
Except what was lost in false exchange.          

©2019 – m.a.
This is about a feeling I carried for someone for years i she never felt the same, or at least anything about me.
Your voice changed my mood like a chameleon. Flooding my mind in deep nostalgia, I am surrounded by reminders of what pleasures we partook, we indulged, we unapologetically did, we confidently said and we therapeutically wanted. We ravaged, we begged, we, were, human.

Your scent still leaves a trace that even a bloodhound could find. Roses vanilla and a hint of cinnamon; my tongue tingles from the pleasure of closing my eyes, reanimating the masterpiece that went down at your unguarded borders.

But, I kept it cool when you introduced your new boyfriend.

'Hello this is__'

I replied 'What's up, the names Kitarō'

But as I spoke, I could tell we were harmoniously in sync when he called out your name twice; no response escaped your lips.

The third time triggered your body to respond; when your crimson lips were finally free from it's white prison it was photographically known of what was unsaid on your beautiful luscious red painted canvas

I knew you wanted me.
Apporva Arya Jun 24
When things will change,
Just hate left for exchange.
Will you care to wait ?
For memories we made.
I find it more beautiful when a chapter ends in my life now then a new one begins.
Oskar Erikson Jun 12
what happens to the pieces left over after healing?
i'll put them up to be sold.
maybe it's immoral to try reap a profit from feeling
but you'll cherish what i can no longer hold.
Mary Frances Oct 2018
We started with sweet,
sensual exchange of words.
But instead of ending up
under the sheets,
we ended up with broken hearts.
Andrew Jul 2017
My tires went over the cracks in the road
As I drove by people standing on the sidewalk
Exchanging words, emotions, dreams
I passed them on my way to the cul-de-sac
To exchange money, drugs, humanity
The pedestrians penetrated me
With piercing eyes of persecution
They thought they hated me for being there
But their hatred is what led me there
They injected hatred into my life
The way I injected ****** into my arm
They injected banality into my life
The way I injected ****** into my brain
They injected austerity into my life
The way I injected ****** into my heart
They prayed that my sedation was of a more permanent nature
Before that they prayed for the permanent sedation
of my ****** nature
Wanting me to be fully awake
But not fully alive
They snuck into my mind
And exchanged emotions with emptiness
I snuck into their house
And exchanged furniture with emptiness
They exchanged words with the police
Who exchanged my freedom
For everyone else's peace of mind
But the exchange between the excommunicated
Exacerbated my exiled existence
The steel bars placed before me
Paled in comparison
To the bars that surrounded my heart
And faded from memory
When the Xanax bars entered my system
Until I couldn't walk anymore
Making me Professor X
Hiding out with the other mutants
Trying to lecture the world
That zombies turn to demons
If the exchange isn't examined
When they exit their enclosure
Sidewalk standers turn to explanations more elementary
Eliminating empathy
While elevating themselves above us
This is the epitome of our exchange
no money or things
that can buy goodwill,
in exchange,
only itself can
buy it.

i have a friend (dunnow if he think me in that way) that think he can buy my goodwill.
he gave me things and i know that it is the change for my goodwill for him and it sadden me.
emmie cosgrove Jun 2018
The lacy touch of your fingers upon my *******
The soft touch of your smooth lips upon mine
Now lay between the empty bed sheets
Stained with time
The spilt tears
The endless fears
The lacy touch of your fingers upon her *******
The soft touch of your smooth lips against her hips
Now lay covered under the fresh bed sheets
Stained with your crime
Was I nothing more but a doll to play with?
Some sort of toy that you could just dispose of as time went on?
I looked into your eyes
I thought I saw your soul
Now I hope that she can see the truth;
You pick us out at random like a raffle ticket
And if the prize you receive does not please you

Then the exchange shall be soon
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