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Sand crumbles to glass
Glass births a stone
The Stone greets a hand thrown in anger

Hand becomes a body
Body returns to sand
The Sand holds no memory of it's maker
Wow, it's been aaaages since I was inspired to write something, though I'm not really sure where the idea came from.
Somehow the imagery of violence undone and the cyclical nature of things really resonated with me.
Hope you like it
Filomena Oct 2020
welcoming to cold
how quickly you change your face
cut right to the bone
Psych ward poetry #7
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2019
You were my angel in blackest days
Smile the only light
Think my world would still be black
If you had not of taken away the night

Darkness seemed to fill
I knew
Life spaced out by sobs of punctuation
The monotonous dullness of time
Provided color and fluctuation

How could I dim the sky?
The one?
Had put the sun in mine
Hearts are setting in the distance
I'll forever remember your shine
My earthangel
Pauper of Prose Aug 2018
Glasses clashing with a clink
Sophisticated men of good health drink
Congratulating one another on a deal
Wondrous wealth the root of its appeal
And laughter loops in-between the night air
Months later a young boy can only stare
As his father returns home with all his tools
Midday heat hounding him as he sat on a stool
His calloused hands covering his face
Tearfully told the family that he’d been replaced
But not just him, every buddy that he could see
Said the job had set sail far over the sea
The young boy couldn’t understand the notion
Ran out the house and threw rocks at the ocean
Yet as the days went on there was one caveat
Prices at the stores did mysteriously drop
So once rare treats became as commonplace
As his father's work shuttling from place to place
Devin Lawrence Dec 2015
"You are one in a million."
                                            - Then you realize
                                               that means there must be
                                               THOUSANDS
Just.
                               Like.
                                                           ­          You.

So you worry,
You fret,
You wonder
What it takes to
stand                                                         ­                                                 apart.
Youtrythi­ngsyouwouldnototherwise.
U do thingz you can never 4get;

                                                          ­                           All just to be
                                                              ­                                              original.

You write and profess
about matters you hardly understand.

You torture yourself
to
s            t              r             e              t                c                      h
your limits.

You educate yourself
So to think
Like no one el$e ha$.

You adopt strange habits
In fluctuating,
                                                    ­                                        foreign
                 ­                         accommodations.
Then you
                                  r                  m       ­                                  e
                                               u                             l
                          c                                    ­       b
when it all
                   slips...
                                            
           ­                                                                 ­        You almost feel
                                                            ­                                 Original.


                                                     ­                       ...away...        


You change your name,
Take on a new identity-
One like they've never seen.
Bleach your personality
And sulk behind lifeless, purple hair-
Garishly placed among a black and white world-
While inhaling toxic fantasies
That suffocate-
No, wait, perhaps they liberate-
Those things that make you feel
alive
and unique.

                                                        ­                                 You are the Original.

You are unlike any force ever know. You are the thunder's roar and the wolf's howl.
But you can't shake this ominous feeling:

                                         *You've become unoriginal
This is why I hand-write my works first....
Rakha Dec 2015
"My people refers to me as Adamant,"

Adamant, this
Adamant, that

Adamant, ruin their marriage.
Adamant, make the politicians **** one another.



"What do I get for being Adamant?"

Come here, Adamant
Stay away, Adamant

Chant me million of butterflies, Adamant.
Learn how to nurture, Adamant.



"But I will not be Adamant no longer,"

Adamant, this
Adamant, that

You will love yourself, darling.
Fostering kindred soul within us all.



"God bless you. Not me,"*

Adamant, darling
Adamant, dear

You are God.

— The End —