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aL Dec 2018
***
His life, already pawned
Got nowhere to go
Basically soulless ***
Dedicated his life
To be unthrilled
He is used
On being dead
bum1
/bəm/
INFORMAL
nounNORTH AMERICAN
1.
a vagrant.
2.
a person who devotes a great deal of time to a specified activity.
Crystal Freda Dec 2018
Expect your promise
because it will come.
It will expand more
than just a small sum.
You will be great
and will no longer
have to wait.
Andrew Rueter Dec 2018
I wish I could tell certain people
That they cause me great pain
But if I did I fear they would leave me
Because they don’t want to hurt me
Which makes me love them
Causing me great pain
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1
Bryce Dec 2018
It has been resolved!

It is a crusted concept, inept and unabashed

It is the last call on a windy city tram to the south side

It is a favorite sports bar closed for remodel

The pleasant bliss of air and undisclosed favorites

I will finally extricate myself from the grips of Charybdis

I will continue on, my sail billowing with glee

the air is my fuel and neverrun empty

Can you give a piece of El Dorado to my newfound friend,

Can you give them the same happiness you promised me

and don't let them wonder too long


These unforgotten experiences that mean something to you--

It is an orange rind in the water, silently exfoliating the ions

It is a concrete structure undefined

All the stones that are friendly and snuggled intently against

the mold

I will find new homes in the volcanic chains and wonder about you

You will never again remember the same way who I am, just the faded constraints of the way I challenged your brain

Think of new things! See the trees as lungs

and breeeeaaaathing

You'll find that love in another chunk of god, no complaints for the weary

The kind and lovable axeman who cuts u--Pondicherry

I am a static mold and will rapidly extrue

All the magnificence of things that I cannot view

I am a rhythm of the heart, a beaming drum

I analyze the air and drink it like ***

Fermented love of god, give me no return

To give that which no man has earned

thank you,
sweet love
thank you for showing me something new.
-------------------------------
नों जोनोम लाफैनाय हरनि उनफ्राव
सिरि मोनगोन बिसोरबो सानसे
खोमसि हरखौ साजायगोन फोर्बोसालि बादि
जोंथि माथि रिथि रिथा

खुगा मुथेरोंगोन गेब्रेंनाय बाराव
खोमा हमथेनो सोलोंगोन गेब्रेंनाय सोदोबाव
गोग्गो देहा दानो सोलोंगोन ।

फुसनि हराव निहिरनि सोदोबाव
सोंख्रावनाय सैमाफोरनि दावरावाव
उन्दुलांनो हाया जागोन

गोर्बोफोराव गाजा खिलिगोन
बोथोरनिनो हालामाव
देलों देलों देरनो नाजागोन
सोमखोर सोमखोर गसंख्रांगोन
He rose out of the ashes of corruption
He pledged to protect our beautiful nation
Befriend by many leaders
Trump proved himself as those around him backstabbed
a bright person to bring light
upon a clash of crocked ideals
Never selecting a "paid" vocation.
He uses his heart and pride of country as payment
as he smiles as those who fear and run from the truth
their feet run on the pavement
As they try to save what little they have left
in a dark legacy
Say what you want
they can never replace a true and noble warrior
Who took the oath of leadership
Over the strongest Nation in the world
The flag waves high in pride
as he steps on the White House Lawn
In earned light and proud stride.
I support him.
Trump.
Our "Cheif of Nations In Command"
of honest power and dignity
I shower him with respect and praise
as he earns a rose, the regal flower.
As he makes a path, for all, a brighter day.
Julian Caleb Nov 2018
3
After great pain, a formal feeling comes--
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Toombs--
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round--
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought--
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone--

This is the Hour of Lead--
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons recollect the Snow--
First--Chill--then Stupor--then the letting go--
Bryce Nov 2018
To count upon my woe
and prostrate myself at your command
Lips ruminate the words
The powdered skin of slushy snow

And is he only man
With passions gone of last I heard
To all the moments never known
The last of which would fell the ******

Though mortal sighs were solemn dirge
Anticipate the breaths you blow
Inside the shaking grip of hands
Clasps the sudden, hidden urge

To count upon my thoughtless woe,
The last of which would raze the land.
Rose Oct 2018
My nose is in these pages for my mind wishes to wander
To a place where faces no longer sneer insults like spit
These fantasies hold more for me than these blank walls
I want more than these crowded streets of faces I know
what a feeling to know, dreaming and wishing are such wonderful things. just don't forget to get out there and do something about it.
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