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Jessica Kolb Aug 2014
Autumn.
The mood is changing,
the temperature is slowly cooling,
yet the fiery leaves bring warmth.
Strange how the dying leaves
bring beauty to our surroundings.
Early in the morning,
the air is crisp and comforting.
The smell of hot apple cider
drifts throughout the house.
Looking out the big window,
the wind is dancing
with the delicate tree branches.
The leaves are slowly letting go
of what they once called home.
The foggy air
looked calming,
while drops of rain
fell from the sky.
**Autumn. A time of year that makes you realize that change isn't so bad after all.**
Luvanna Aug 2014
I Love You
in present tense
you added colors to my life
but now you've turned black and white
and i run out of red in my color box
so i cut my wrist in a hope you'll be back
with yellow dress and red ribbon on your ponytail
tell me how you fancy black now my dear
and your lips were all white
Kenshō Aug 2014
On this inclement day,
Night sheathes light.

Seamless transitions,
Wake my dreams.

It's neither nor now.
Just one moment before.
sheathe
felicia Aug 2014
The moon is blue
Gloomy is the night sky
Where are the stars going?

The clouds are black
Set is the sun
Where is her wishing star?

The eyes are tired
Drying is the tears
What does she stare at?

Her mind is fazed
Shattered is the pieces of her heart
How to contemplate even more?

The moon is blue
And so does she
What should she *do?
this is not a poem on love or what. i just have no idea why i'm feeling so blue. it's just, i'm not in the right mood
Zaynub Jul 2014
why were you only honest
at 3 am?

because
it was easier
for you to blend
the darkness of your soul
with the dark of the night.
Amitav Radiance Jun 2014
In the garden, which once bloomed
Is left with dry leaves and weeds
Unattended by any gardener
Shrubs and hedges grown out of proportion
Even the walls have been claimed by poison ivy
No visitor here, in this forlorn patch
Dried and desolated, bereft of all the juice
It can’t sustain beauty anymore
Reminiscing, its heyday, the bird’s paradise
Variety of flowers, thronged by bees
Sweetest of nectar have once been tasted
The wooden bench, discolored, and weary
Once part of the romantic words exchanged
Between lovers, and a place to rest
For the elderly couples, trying to revive old memories
Garden itself is now a part of memory
Listening to so many anecdotes, happy or gloomy
Yet, the garden, was paradise once
Welcoming everyone with open arms
Now past its prime, it’s in a dilapidated state
Not a soul to tend its broken heart
No one will be there, to mourn the loss of paradise
Liz Jun 2014
Today feels like November.
Not quite the festive November, however the post exams should-be-happiness may be causing a
small sense of internal gladness, 
but the November which
foreshadows-  Time's eerie hourglass is long and hangs in the gloom
and you wonder 
where the light is.
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