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Johnny walker Jan 31
There's lady I have become to know through poetry writing I call my Texas friend
and although we are thousands of mile away
we comfort each other every day through the messages we send to each
she has helped me so much through the pain of my grief a lady of true grit
and always keeps going never gives
even though she has struggles of her own I'm proud of this lady of true grit who has become my true friend and always will be "Friends Till We Both Go Home"
Written In dedication of a truly wonderful friend who has always been there for me
through the pain of my grief
a true friend a lady who has true grit
Juhlhaus Jan 23
A sidewalk canvas
Half done slush
An oil slick
Twice frozen ice
And boots that slip
A train just missed
The red eyes glare
Rain that floats
In sour air
Brutalized concrete
Bleeding rust
Filthy floors
And alley walls
Spent cigarettes
In every nook
Steel that shrieks
In cold protest
Blue lights
And a defiant poet
On every corner
An inventory of materials.
Xandra Lynch Jan 2
bright red bubbles pop from underneath my feet
red as cherry trees that won't grow
can this be blood?
dirt from in between my toenails
i wash off Mother Nature's skin  
a leaking coming from my eyes
that washes away dissatisfaction
can these be tears?
the sound of feet against the ground
solid and unloving
i slip
face down into the ground
can this be where life comes from?
an old lady plants flowers in her garden
can this be inspiration?
i am losing my train of thought
can this brain be me?
Diangelo Tyler Nov 2018
Crying into a pillow case
Heart broken from a severe case
Of “why can’t things just go my way”
Near drowning from the tears
Confronted by the kinds of fears
That chase hopes and dreams away
On the surface it appears
That these are tears of sadness
But that perception isn’t reality
These are tears of passion
She knows failure is a minor setback
So it fuels her motivation
To get back to dream chasing
So she picks herself up
Dries her tears and never looks back
She refuses to breathe any doubt air
And needs no pats on the back
She is brave, strong and determined to
Make her reality & dreams the same thing
Ricky J Oct 2018
Novelty delays fine work.
A lack of interest in persistence as it were.

Oh Novelty you and your cousin Naivety
wrap me in delusion and play on my vanity,
You tell me Rome was built in a day,
that riches come quick to those who simply play.

Oh consistency, are we here again?
The constant whip to push through the day,
I'd rather just theorize and think my way.

Yes, a lazy poet I am, I rarely speak of grit.
Such a millennial they say,   I think therefore I can.
S Rose Oct 2018
people see your skill

   and name it Talent

      in reality,

         Talent walked you to the door

            knocked twice,

               then disappeared

                  and you were left with Grit.
Vineetha Apr 2018
While I worked hard,
it came easy to her,
While she was a natural at it,
I had to grind my way to it.
A thought crossed my mind,
It’s unfair,
I had no flair,
no natural gift to spare,
for it’s meant only for the gifted,
and the blessed.
Upon reconsidering,
I wasn’t impuissant,
I had the vigorous tool of all–
belief in myself,
a clear path to achieve the goal.
Although rudimentary,
still, the one to fetch happiness.
It might take longer,
it might get harder,
but certainly is doable,
for it’s not about the gift, but grit.
Joshua Horder Feb 2018
The religious chalking of the hands,
The tightening of the thick nylon straps,
Headphones are placed and primed,
Now time begins to lapse.

His mind's eye recites what now must be completed,
Claiming a bench, he sits, he waits, he breathes,
He grasps the ice cold steel and tightens his grip,
Lifting, striving for ten, he pushes, he believes.

The loud clink clinking of solid metal plates,
The sound of great efforts fill the room,
Sweat and tears begin to flow,
Working hard the muscles engage and begin to bloom.

Set after set he keeps pushing forward,
Digging deep into his soul for his much-needed strength,
Tunnel-visioned now as he drives and drives,
Working for that last rep, his arms raising, still at full length.

An hour or more passes and the session draws to a close,
Crunching his abs, he works as the pain stabs into him like a knife,
He knows it's doing him good, it's his mindfulness, it's his time,
He will be back tomorrow for another round because after all, training is life.
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