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Radhika Krishna Oct 2020
The door in the attic is peculiar
Sometimes I am lucky enough to find it cold
And I will stumble inside and fall
Far away from here
It's like a dream, a new life
You must look around and above you
And then you will see it
Above, up there, high, far away
There it was, I saw the hole
Through my fluttering eyelids it was always grey
But when I say so
Mother starts to weep uncontrollably
From here I can only sit and watch and ponder
Where it starts and where it ends
And if there is a castle of wonder
I'd like to see it one day
Even if I am old and empty
And I have lived forever
Even if I am all bones and dust and dead
But I'm still alive and my pulse is fascinating
I stand up and run, maybe if I run fast enough
I will start to fly
Yet all that comes of it is a dizzy heart and burning eyes
Sometimes, the Big Grey will ask me,
"What are you searching for?"
I don't know yet, I just want to see past the shadow
What is it like, where dreams are told,
Where dreams are sold?
On the days that she sits me down
And tells me what's real and what's not real
I wish I could give Mother a dream too
Because the lines on her face make her look so tired
And that's when they start fluttering again
Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close.
Open.
When will I know what dreams are like?
Nicole Sep 2020
Alone and lost, appeared this saint,

With pretty gray eyes, darkness can’t taint.

He stole her from cold, from blustering storm,

Kind and gentle, he took her from harm.

Fearful of dark, he created her light,

A jar of gold, chasing demons of night.

Telling stories of love, he brought to her life,

A moment by his side: no pain, no strife.

He gifted her poems, a gesture on whim,

With every word read, she could see only him.

She counted the days until he returned home,

The boy with his light, the girl not alone.

Invisible to all, a shade wandering in dark,

He brought back her faith, with his pure kind heart.
Jay M Sep 2020
Floating in silence
Messages whizzing past
Images and words
Flash before unseeing eyes
Hands extend into the vastness
Never to be grasped

Cool grey
Uncertain of
Where the exit has gone
Vanished perhaps
Along with all other color
No longer anything vibrant
Viewing in muted tones
And a base of grey

Slowly falling
Without fear
Of hitting a ground
That will never come
Forever a loop
Of falling
Never knowing the ledge

Heavy heart
Unsure which part
Or even the whole

Care has fled
Leaving nothing
To burst or share
But a drifting soul
In a long forgotten hole

Knowing what is missing
But no will to chase
Nowhere to go
Remaining still

- Jay M
September 30th, 2020
Somehow emotions have fled, and I'm not disturbed by it. Caring has been difficult, sometimes managing to and other times not at all, and I've been easily overwhelmed (and managed to keep it primarily internal). This is life, I suppose.
Cross Boundry Sep 2020
I wouldn’t mind
If the sky was always grey.
I don’t mind empty days
Full of slow background music
And the clicking of keys.
I wouldn’t mind
If the light that came through my window
Were always pale and clouded.
Should I mind?
Most people do.
I guess I wouldn’t mind
If I just wasn’t like most people.
So, I could just say,
“Sky, I wouldn’t mind
If you were always grey.”
But, it’s pointless to say
For, over your natural blue
I’ll always prefer the grey.
first poem dudes
Io Sep 2020
Deep within the folded grey
Lonesome titans weave upon their watery graves
Amongst shale seas
Veiled with fog
Vast beasts of smoke float atop
oceans

of grey     silence
Poem about the misty sky beasts
Jacob Lyons Sep 2020
The moon is always around at night
When your darkness can’t be more bright
Feel the echo attack the silent
It will haunt you, leave you violent
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