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showyoulove Nov 2024
Oh Lord my God, that I would disappear
That I could hide inside your heart
And be content to rest in your presence.
That I could be still and silent
That I could melt in the heat of your love.
You are hidden in the bread and wine,
Yet present all the same
And still, you reveal your heart
To those who humbly came.
May I imitate your life
As I try to reflect this love
And share your heart with others.
Increase Lord, until we are
Of one mind, one heart, one soul.
Until the two parts fade away
And the day I am finally whole.
Let me lay my head upon your breast
Where your heart speaks to me
And where I find perfect peace and rest.
Lord, that where you are, there I may also be.
Kacie Nov 2024
No evil shall enter in sacred space
Powers move, one thread in chase

Hands of creation, electric flow
Held captivated with eternal glow

Luminescent band, another dimension

Binding words weave within
Secrets of past woven in pen

In the shadows, in the light,
Forever hidden in plain sight


RepeatedNap
midnight blue Oct 2024
Another footprint washed away
but I’m still grounded
my feelings buried so deep
yet my waves try to scream
begging To be free

My tides alternate
looking for another way
to somehow escape
this violent cage
pleading, “Set me free”

Somedays
it’s too much to bear
my anger gets unleashed
the storm within me
can’t help but Break free
This one is for everyone who holds back their words and their anger until it all builds up and explodes
Sam S Oct 2024
Through pain and hardship, strength is grown,
Where courage blooms from seeds unknown.
It’s easy to forget the fight,
That forged their hearts within the night.

The strongest souls bear hidden scars,
Their battles waged in silent wars.
Yet walls are built, and hearts made true,
With every storm they battled through.

Now confidence, like stone, remains,
A quiet fire, fed by pains.
From broken ground, they rise and stand—
The toughest hearts, the gentlest hands.
Emery Feine Oct 2024
The way others view me,
Their theories are all incorrect,
But I don't know how to crack my own egg shell,
Show them what my soul shows me.
My heart and mind do not line up.
I yearn for things that did me wrong.
Laziness floods my habits and goals,
Until I drown in unsuccess.
I return to the places of my past
And to their people when I feel aloof.
It's weird to think that my friends barely know me,
And the butcher knows me best.
this is my 126th poem, written on 10/11/24.
Karma Nov 2024
No longer of use,
The static colliding,
The past in recluse
In the attic, residing

Colors rot in the dust
Pictures die in the silence,
As corpses make fust
And complain under pileus.

The mycelium harvest,
In boredom, they thrive.
And much like the artist
Through flesh, their roots rive.

A place where ghosts and ghoul like to screech,
A place where even the flies couldn’t reach.
The eye is the window to the soul;
I hide my personality there;
If you look right into my eyes,
You would see that she comes with fear.

I am Just like a cut Diamond;
My personality is so very rare;
I feel I have Great value;
Please handle me with Love and With care.

This personality that you see is timid;
At times, I can come off as shy;
I am scared to show you my real true self; and Often, I am wondering why.

I am Living a True LIVE Fantasy, but
Destined for it to be Reality;
I just wished my personality wasn't so hidden;
My personality wants to break Free.

I Express myself through writing;
Pen to paper is how I Flow;
I Will continue to Express
the REAL TRUE ME!!!
That everyone would Love
to Know!!!!


B.R.
01/2/2022
Emery Feine Sep 2024
A group of thieves found a thriving tree
So they dug it up, then all went to see

The tree had grown from roots of pain
So they were confused on why this tree was sane

Then one realized the tree was made from healing
The guilt it hid over the years was now revealing

The tree started to wilt, slowly dying
They heard the tree’s screams, even its crying

For the tree hid everything to protect its health
It was just not happy for its life and wealth

The thieves felt bad and ran away
Even if the tree would still decay

They knew that tree was once their own
The one that they had used and thrown

But they were not thieves of objects, even if they could
They were the thieves if my innocent childhood
this is my 14th poem, written on 5/30/23
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