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Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
In deep honesty,
I know that you keep to yourself.
That no one really knows you except the few you deem worthy.
How I envy their knowledge of you.
Those hidden idiosyncrasies that reveal the secrets to how you smile so big.
I wait another day, seeing your face in reflection.
Reaching out to touch you. Risking the chance that you'll disappear before my hand touches your shoulder.
How I envy their knowledge of you.
Believing the impossible.
A steady faucet that spews with the press of a lever.
I decided to stand still, realizing that I was standing on the wrong side of the sink.
Left dry, hearing only the sound of your laughter.
How I envy their knowledge, knowing exactly where to stand when you rain affection.
The taste of ****** food, left stained. Not much room to move.
Collected in an empty sink.
The clatter of spoons, forks, butter knives, and plates without so much as a cup.
I must admit. I envy their knowledge of you as I am left here stale, without cause.
Seeking you to cleanse me in purpose
ryn Nov 2015
.
•i only               •••            weep for          
the path of my brethren•when we turn          
to bloodshed to settle petty squabbles•          
the rage               •••                  in  our          
hearts could          
not be more brazen•          
for we have ground all we-          
've built to dust and rubble•the tears from the fau-      
cets of many only trickle•the drips could never douse
the flames we've stoked • we play with lives as we pit
                    them to a gamble•the hei-               nousness
                           within us that we've                     carelessly
... invoked•
          
                                                                                     •
                                                                                     ••
                                              ­                                       •••••
                                                                                     •••••••
                                             ­                                       ••••••
                                                ­                                     •••
.
Concrete Poem 5 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
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Shin Aug 2015
There was a howl, as the faucet began to drip drip drip, and the creaks of a house built too long ago stretched her weary bones as the faucet proceeded to drip drip drip, and a man and a woman held on tight, this memory being just a glimpse, as the faucet kept up its drip drip drip, and a child cried as his toe was stubbed, and still the faucet dripped dripped dripped, and the family fixed it, and so it stopped, and grey was in season as the winter grew near, and the house was empty, and the family was gone, and yet the faucet again began to drip drip drip.
Shae Cobain Feb 2015
The faucet drips as it whispers to me
Each word each time
Dropping sounds, letting noise free
Secrets rise and fly
As they die inside me
WickedHope Dec 2014
the faucet's dripping...

i wonder when the water will
    
                                                              r                                               ?
                                                                 u                                        t
                                                                       n                            u
                                                                                            o
#thingsiwriteonmyarms

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