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Jieun Feb 2020
what if i was meant for you?
what if you were meant for me?
what if this is it..
what if we're meant to be?

don't be scared
please take my hand
This journey will hurt
but please try to understand

I will always be here for you
I'll give you everything one day
so I'll kiss your head, and promise
That i will love all these what if's away!
Bhill Jan 2020
My eyes were opened
Many clouds
Sunshine will follow

Brian Hill - 2020 # 23
Just wait for it if it’s not there!
Jason Drury Jan 2020
Go north,
into Frost’s domain.
Comparing your soul,
and walk the same path.
Stomp the ground,
to make it real.
Walk in the wood,
in the grass and snow.
Follow the steps,
learned from the past.
Diverge in the thicket,
and follow your heart.

How did you do it?
Will I have to die to?
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2019
The worst part waking up each day
Realizing my life is still this way
I want to change
Be something more
Don't want breathing to feel like a chore
With a man who does best to make
Smile though his I only take
I am a thief
Happiness and joy
What I steal I don't get to keep and enjoy
I know wishing others to understand
Make them see it from where I stand
I just **** them with destructive habit
In pursuit of an unreachable white rabbit
I am sick of picking scabs on my face
Screaming to world that I am a disgrace
But distance between where I am at
Where I was
Is a reminder that
Nothing but the loneliness feels the way it once did
Am so hardened
My feelings I hid
Because no effort is ever good enough
No longer try
But I'm failing to bluff
They asked if okay
If I'm sure I'm alright
Lie but it's clear that my answers not right
Nothing hurts because I've gone numb
The awful monotony I've all but succumbed
Rock bottom and bottoms up!
Where I'm stuck between
Each day follow the same sickening routine
Either way I'm at the bottom...
Pc Nov 2019
Fly
Does a bird know how to fly just because it has wings, or is it a Leap of faith once it falls from the trees , my life is similar to a birds they follow for every tweet gracefully descending to the ground like the colorful leaves  , (fall ) in the autumn breeze
Mark Wanless Nov 2019
I don't know
  
i eat the food of the soft and hard work
no time is left for a god to appear
cross the river and find a path that's worth
a life of effort all live with the fear

of not existing in the mind of self
and what we call god is a band aid that
is better than nothing as we bleed out
our life upon a tabula raza

which is true yet malleable so now
we walk and talk the walking dead maybe
not a word is true that's thought softly in
a moment of real yell's and we follow

as slaves to the inner tune unheard that
can be peaceful if we try i don't know
inspired
Poetoftheway Oct 2017
this old poet, one of the first, to see your wave,
when he was playing knick-knack paddy whack on his shoe,
the old poet then played two, and said,
yes, I will follow you

Please
imaging-imaging that old poet with a glanceable cursory,
a small smile whispered, with entourage of a nod and a wink,
stands, knowing he is in the delivery room, a witness,
to first steps of a babe starting a new life
marvelous miracle by touching a button, a new line written,
not crossed but connecting by pressing "Follow"
with a finger from a hand, a human fringe,
attached to a breathing mind and a thinking heart,
the first to follow you, a ceremonial gesture of
innovation magic incantation, a new moon blessing,
a living person believing, remembering, the longest ago,
his first own graceful acknowledgement and eyes speak,

yes, I will follow you

the new poet, astonished at this induction to the smallest
Hall of Fame that they alone own the only key, study that
number, that number 1, the first to follow, kinda looking over
their shoulder to make sure the old poet still there on the morrow,
sure enough there are now two, safe in the back pocket,
a tabulation of humans who speak volumes of trust, saying,
yes, I will follow you

the old poet, imaging-imaging the babe, dancing round
the room, invigorated, challenged and the faucets pouring,
can't write it down as fast as the trains arriving disgorging,
words unique in new combinations and the rush of blood
from heart to head to those newly literary fingers bleeding
happy creatures of creation as if they are Noah
setting sail to save us with verbs and adjectives
two by two all for now species unheard of

the old poet wants to send cautionary notes, the path strewn
with frustrations of no inspiration ditches and inescapable cliches
that sound fresh but just aren't, the disappearing satisfaction,
the inability to get it just perfect, and so many obstacles
to be prophesied,
but he does not, these things must be self taught,
today let it suffice the initiation, the first crowning of
**yes, I will follow you
for this the way of the poet

10/16/17 5:09pm
what an honorific terrific
to be the first to follow
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