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Roslyn May 2019
Buzzing bees, crawling ants, lady bugs on your knuckles.
Does the sun wave and wear sunglasses?
Or do the trees never have enough leaves?

Don't act so sweet I don't feel the cavity until it's too late.
But you're not candy.

Grow and nurture, talking care to clean up your wake.
Would you come back for a plant that no one watered?
maggie W Sep 2018
I already have certain years
that constitute my life
CT, MA to NY

All the tiny things I did
Shape me into this version of me
Writing on a laptop at night

Yes, I feel like
I have seen enough things
Done a lot, good at being broken- hearted
Maybe could've broken more hearts.

Truth is, probably not.
I learn to accept fate as they come
Yes, sometimes I try to veer it towards the way I want

But life is never about
Achieving what you want
Rather, use the things you got
And turn it into everlasting , mesmerizing
Splendid sparks.

Am I cheesy being only 26?
Or you're sneering at me,
Ha you're not that young?

I look up for a sign and an inspirational quote
To only see myself in the mirror smiling back
and the past ghosts at the end of the tunnel

He said he does not want a relationship
I said I don't want my future baby to have ugly teeth
He said he will marry me for a million
But I said I don't want our baby to go to Harvard
He said, ***** Harvard!What about Princeton?
seriously don't know what i am writing haha
Ever notice how a piece of timber first catches on it burns so bright...
There's sort of a passion to it?

How it moves along flaring hot or hotter,
flaming-out here or there...

Coming around again to exhaust all efforts at staying alight...
...but it matters not.

That dark hardened shell of the wood has nothing left to give...
...can't maintain itself.

Sure, -you can add accelerant.
A later something, perhaps different in thermal expression?

In the end only speeds up the process of becoming nothing; as ashes cast into the winds.

Charred pieces were better left alone, dissolving in raindrops over time?

Never rekindle a thing once burnt.

Yes I suppose that makes logical sense...

Unless you feelĀ cold?
- Apr 2016
You find patterns
in everything
and I am just beginning to notice this about you.

You watch documentaries,
and tell me all about them.

One was about
a nanny turned photographer
capturing strangers
mid-conversation-

I like your summaries
better than the stories themselves.

Someday, you, too
will take great photographs
and the world will know your name
before you're deceased.

I'm sure of it.

We walked through a field of glowing grass,
and you tried to touch each blade.

It began to rain,
I wiped a stray droplet onto your nose
and kissed your eyelids.

You laughed at me,
tried to annoy me,
hold my hand in different ways,
push me
off the sidewalk-

I stepped in dog ****
but you insisted
it was human...

I listened to you spin your story
and was reminded of how lovely
it is to peer inside your mind-

My glasses broke tonight
and yet I haven't seen this clearly
in what feels like forever.

I'll tell you "let's do this,"
this time, without any liquor
if it means I'll prove my devotion
to you
and this time
we have together.

I don't care what you call me,
or who knows I exist,

as long as you keep kissing me
with as much electricity
as I felt when I first met you.
Thank you.
A month ago I sat in class
in a New England School for boys
Now, I'm in a bomber group
Adjusting to the noise

I made plans for Harvard
A doctor, I would be
Then my life would turn
In a way I didn't see

The war was on in Europe
We saw in the press
But, 18 days before Christmas
we were pulled into the mess

Future plans were put aside
Our country we'd support
We'd forget all of our future thoughts
We'd join, though not for sport

We signed up down in Boston
Young men flyers, soldiers all
Preparing for a battle
Many would not live till fall

We thought not of our future
Our present, all we had
Many dead by Christmas next
The thought is truly sad

You do not what you want to
But, what needs to be done
You go from boy to man so fast
You've barely walked...now run

Think back on those who made it
Remember who did not
Young men they are forever
They deserve a longer thought

The air is pure and holy
It is scattered with young souls
Boys, now men who went to war
And put aside their goals

— The End —