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Jac 7d
the angels had cried
a few moments past
the sky now tinted a soft grey

morning dew still fresh
on the various roses
that covered the fields

she sat alone
cheeks a bit wet
and her mind slightly numb

the only thing she could feel
were the spirits in her presence
her shaking hands
went up to her face
drying the tears
i am glad the spirits were with her
David Hutton Jun 5
Sometimes I feel like I'm wearing a crown.
Othertimes I feel like I want to shutdown.
Give me what I need,
that special kind of seed.
The one where I get lost and can't be found.
Nemis May 31
Days of laughs and midnight blue,
From walking on broken glasses to morning dew.
Do you know where the blinding eyes lead you?
If you do will you still go through?

The ashes of past and the echoes of present,
Interwoven together with surprises enchanted.
Driven melodies of magic and miracles,
With moments of dry tears and laughless chuckles.

Waves of time against the tides of tries,
Deep you sink and high you fly.
As the sound of silence slowly reaches,
And closer the end of race towards the grave.
About life.
Of a melancholy tone
When you waste your life away
You have fallen off track
And you have been led astray
Constantly in a state of darkness
As your world tumbles down
All of your lasting joys
Have sadly, turned into a frown
Joy May 5
Why
Why is today a rainy day?
Why did I bomb the test?
Why does everything seem so hopeless?
Why am I alone again?

Why is it still raining?
Why is today so boring?
Why can't I at least go out and have a breath of fresh air?
Why ask I'm saying so many why's,
I can't even play with my friend!
Martin Horton Apr 16
My mother made lemon curd.
You could say it was her party trick.
Every year she’d make an enormous batch, and you’d have to grab a jar pretty quick.

The flavour, it was amazing!

Woke you up with a zap and a zing.

Not slept well or feeling a bit off? Have a spoonful of this and you’d sing.

The colour was spectacular, like pure sunshine in a jar.

And what made it all the more special was the lives it touched near and far.

You see, when people were given a jar of this, it touched a place deep inside.

Their lives went from grey and gloomy into lives filled with colour and pride.
They’d have it on toast or on porridge, far better than honey or jam.

I loved it turned into ice-cream, especially after eggs, chips and ham.

My mother had done this for a long time, left quite the legacy you see. Her first batch was made aged 11, her last at 103.

When her curd making days were over, and it was time to put her spoon away,
we gathered together to say goodbye, on a dull, grey and dismal kind of day.

The church was packed to the rafters, people remembered and laughed. Especially the vicar who adored her curd. He sometimes even ate it in the bath.

They all sang ‘Bring me sunshine’ as a tribute to my Mum and her spread. So here’s to her lemony goodness on crumpets, muffins or bread.
This was written in response to a competition where the title was the prompt was 'Bring me Sunshine' and this was the result.
Mola Apr 16
I sit in this dark, gloomy forest
holding the remains of my friends.

The birds screech like man in agony.
The trees frame the moon, allowing the light
to shine upon the shrine
I created.

I move towards it
placing the flesh and bones of my companions
on to the altar.

Finally, I reach into my satchel
and place the heart
of my dearest friend onto the headstone.

I take a step back
and just as I close my eyes to pray,
I notice a black smoke.

I watch in horror, as the smoke consumes
and destroys everything that I built.
I grasp at the smoke,
hoping to feel something
hoping to put things back together
hoping to rebuild.

But all it does is taint my skin
with bitterness and resentment.
Bhawna Mar 11
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
           @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
             @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
               |@@@@   I believe I can, what
               |  ------      is hindering me then
              /                       is ego?,that I feel
            /                          myself so low
           /                          or is it fear?, that
           ===                     I won't able to
               /                      clear.  Or just an
               ==                       over thinking
               \                              that I am
                |                        sinking. I feel
                 =======          so gloomy that
                                |        everything
        ­                        |          appears
                      ­                   dark being
                                  Bloomy, evytime      
                             I stand I fall , criticizin
               Myself believing I am small
       I believe that ending will be fortunate, Coz what worst can occur in my fate. Maybe its just rough time and
Once again I will shine, maybe its just
My test,that will lead me to my success nest, maybe its just a blessing to complete me from what's lacking.
Do turn phone on the landscpe mode pictorial poetry deb.  Just feel and join the flow
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