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Thanks for the meatballs ma'
On a mission
Be back soon
Took a huge jump on my bike, not a moment too soon
Got struck by lightning and bit by a raccoon
Next thing I knew
I'd taken to the sky
Swept up in a bubble
Passed the Hubble
Made a wish
As I streaked across the sky
And landed on the moon
Found the moondust powdery
Heartbreakingly abandoned and alone
Felt it caress the palm of my hand
Smooth as purest silk
Gave it love
A home
Made it a part of my fingerprint
And as I did
Sprang this wonderfully innocent music
Harmonies of such clarity and void of lies
Brought tears of sadness to my young eyes
As I laid them on this blue marble that houses our skies
Still bleeding itself dry
Spinning faithfully on the blackboard of life
Such grace
This wonderfully complicated dance of life
Never asked for anything in return
Except maybe the answer to a burning question
Why all this grownup warmongering?
Why?
When in the midst of all this hate and terror
Every kid in the world is born
With a natural instinct
To play
To laugh
To explore
And to celebrate
The precious gift of their newborn life.
Childhood series #3
David Leger Jul 2015
Also at dawn do I long for the night,
You are naive but still you are right.

It's the glow of moons and stars,
The comets that streak the sky,
Our place, center between Venus and Mars,
And all the galaxies which pass us by;

They are all shining bright for you to see,
So let's gaze the night indefinitely.
Refrain from the resentment of others
Whose methods may seem foolish, wildly daft
For one will not find common acceptance
Of every individual's craft
Refrain from the resentment of others
Uniqueness, distinction of thought is vast
One's growth depends on self-exploration
For it may expose the world's unknown paths
A reminder to accept everybody for who they are
Raghu Menon Jul 2015
What we see in the mirror
Is a virtual Image
Out there for us to explore.

But do we always get to
See the real world ?

Or are we always
After the reflections ..
And not the real?
https://www.facebook.com/TrappedMemory/photos/a.453477888021095.91888.333040106731541/866863913349155/?type=1&theater
K Jun 2015
I'm avoiding you because I feel like I'm starting to like you. All I wanted to do was talk to you for hours and think about you. And I don't like that. I don't want to like you.

I don't want to like you because you distract me. I prefer talking to you than to do my assignments. I prefer staying as late as 4 am just so I could talk to you-- even if i had to wake up at 6 in the morning for college.

I don't want to like you because every time I eat food I always think about you-- how you like bananas and black rice and sausage and basically everything. Or that every time you have your dinner and it's sleeping time for me already. Yet I have to stay awake just so I could know what you are eating.

I don't want to like you because you talk a lot about girls or anyone from your past, I hate it. At first I tried to deny it. Simply because I wanted to be a good friend to you by listening to your endless rants-- endless rants about girls from all over the world.

I don't want to like you because you don't go to school. I love the idea that you grow by exploring the world-- but at the same time I happen to dislike you for not valuing education as much as I do.

I don't want to like you because all you do is drink in bars and get high at times. I know it's part of your culture, but I am different from you and I hate it. I hate that I don't drink a lot or that I haven't experienced getting high. I hate that I don't kiss spontaneously with someone in public and have never experienced genuine love with someone-- like you did, few months ago.

I'm not like you. I'm not as fun as you are. You are cool, spontaneous, funny and always filled with adrenaline. I find that terrifying.

I have to stop liking you because I can't handle the two possibilities that might happen when you read this. I don't want to be rejected by you, nor to pursue this friendship any further. I know I'm not ready yet.

*All I know is that I like you and I have to stop it.
Delaney May 2015
See me.
Not the facade I pose,
The true me.
Explore my indecorous soul
instead of getting lost at my mask
of calm, mild delight.
That, my dear friend,
is the facade.
See me.
Dive into the abyss,
of melancholy thoughts
and elaborate dreams.
Breathe in my imperfections.
They are plentiful.
Please,
see me.

(d.d.b)
Carly Laskowski May 2015
it seems mundane.
everyday is the same thing. the same schedule.
one would think it would be easier that way. . .
however, I find it absolutely oppressive,
following the same routine all the time.

I want something different, something new.
I want to see the world and explore other cultures.
I want to learn more languages and study foreign art and literature.
I want everyday to be an adventure. . .
not the equivalent of the day before.
May 22, 2015.
Joseph D May 2015
You fade into consciousness.
No, it did not feel like a slumber,
nor does it feel like night or day.

This new found scenario
Oddly left you without confusion.
Almost without looking you knew,
you were in a cell.
Bars closed, but left unlocked.
No one is there to make you stay
You know what to do.

You head towards the cell gate,
Walking without feeling the ground push back against your feet.
As you walk out, you find more cells as far as the eye can see.
With a lack or surprise you look into one and see yourself.
So you take a seat.

This reflection of you separated, seen in tears.
You watch the show; yourself.
And the moment your focus becomes absolute,
Everything around dissolves,
Replaced with a hospital room.
But you remained in good health.

Now you don't see another form.
You seem to be one.
The same feet that felt nothing,
tremble under their own weight
As if the floor that did not make itself known before
Was pulling you with the strength of our sun

Eyes fixed in a stupor
On the elder relative that had once stood with beating heart and warm skin
He's dead
He's gone
From seeing to feeling the emotion
You understand it's the state you're in
These tears are not hollow as you believed the cells had been

The moment you reach this understanding,
You fade back and see yourself.
You stand up with elegance and ease,
And walk down the cells as if to see what's in store.
Window shopping yourself.
A different version, a different age behind every bar.
The floor still absent to your feet,
The only thing pushing is the natural desire to explore.

What do you think of when you hear;
Prison?
AJ May 2015
Running through the parallels of life,
Its easy to get stuck in your position,
Too stuck up and heart cold as ice,
They say life comes down to your decisions,
You think but from your own perspective
Not realizing your thought process is potentially destructive
Leading to a shock everytime you're surprised,
Good or bad, you smile it up in disguise
So if you choose to live in your own little world
And watch life slowly unfurl
Know that you are completely oblivious
Living in a world rather insidious
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