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Caosín Dec 2023
It must be bad, if the father weeps-
If the mother screams, if the sister gives, if the brother does not eat.
It must be bad.
Raven Blue Jul 2020
"October"
It was in October, a cold blue night.
I heard news from my friend that I could barely talk with delight.
For a moment, my heart stopped;
And my mind was blocked.

Questions keep circling in my mind.
I was locked up in darkness and begin to become like a blind.
I was blind in love and care;
And my soul almost died in thin air.

Why did she died?
I keep asking this question and feel horrified.
I tried my best to accept the truth;
And now, If I say I'm totally fine, then that would be a lie.
I still want to see her and tell her that she is very important to me and to my youth.
It was in October, the day she died.
I dedicate this to my idol who is a very important person to me. She is my strength and she inspired me a lot.
Marcos Saldana Jun 2018
Marigolds in bright oranges and reds;
The dead lay below soft flower beds.
What will happen if I reach too far,
Knowing I can't keep those who have crossed the bar?
The days seem vague and bleak,
Will my sins persuade and leave me meek?

What will happen if I cross the ocean,
And not care about the ripples set in motion?
Will my loved ones soon depart,
Only those younger to inherent their art?
My prayers are motionless and repetitive.
My plead is to my Pilot to keep me in the narrative.

For oft when I lie in bed,
The Negative and Dreadful fill my head.
"Forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors,"
Is all my prayers are; it is the setter.
Lead me through temptation and give me a honey tongue,
To give it my all for the distance run.

Knowing that the Daffodils prance,
Throwing their heads in sprightly and cheerful dance,
Be still, sad heart! And cease your grieving!
For all through one's life loved ones must do the leaving.
For two roads diverge in a yellow wood,
And a good idea is to keep attached what is under your hood.
This poem was inspired by the works of other poets like: Robert Frost ("The Road Not Taken"), Alfred Lord Tennyson ("Crossing The Bar"), William Wordsworth ("The Daffodils"), and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ("The Rainy Day").
The title of the poem, "Cargill," was the name of my English teacher during my sophomore year in highschool.
Nena Twedell Sep 2014
His instant coffee sits at the back of the drawer in the break room
Just like always
His coffee cup, work phone sits in his box waiting for him
Just like always

I wait for him in the mornings in the break room
Waiting, listening for him to walk through the door
Just like always

When the door doesn't open I remind myself
Its been two months now
Its been real for two months
And your never going to walk through those doors again
Your never going to pull out your instant coffee and coffee mug
Rushing around because your late for your shift again

So I work
I avoid "your" work
It makes me think too much of you
It makes me want to hear your joyful laugh again
So I work

Break time comes
I sit on the couch waiting
Sometimes seconds
Sometimes minutes
Sometimes the whole time
Waiting for you to come around the corner with a new discovery
To discuss your new favorite youtube video
But then I remind myself
Its been two months now
Its been real for two months

So I work
I avoid "your" work
It makes me think too much of you
It makes me want to hear your joyful laugh again
So I work

You're often the topic of discussion
I avoid it
It hurts too much
Your name is like the sound of nails across the chalkboard
Stabbing me in the chest making it hard to breath
Your name is like sugar
Sweet and sincere
Bringing a smile to my face

But I have to remind myself when I see cars that look just like yours
Its been two months now
Its been real for two months

So I work
I avoid "your" work
It makes me think too much of you
It makes me want to hear your joyful laugh  again
So I work
This is about a co-worker whom I was close with, who committed suicide over the summer. Its been hard and continues to be hard but I know he would have wanted me to continue on with my life.

— The End —