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Mark Lecuona Aug 2016
what did they tell you
it was all bad
the water polluted
the people lawless
the champions corrupt
the blood of deceit
what do they show you
nothing but smiles
triumph
while we watch
waving a flag
we are not immune
it is our culture
it must be great
we shall vanquish them
then we will forget
everything we were told
everything we saw
because there will be something new
something new to fear
our differences will become stark
again
difficult to accept
because judgment is the only game we know
and the eclipse of our common interest
will burn into our eyes
searing them shut
as we retreat back into our safe place
LJ May 2016
My portion of the night
Pouched in a land afar
On this large bed I lay
Alone I toss and play

The skype is our hype
As I move the zoom
To view your blemish
Your smile my parish

A romance of apartness
It's a chance we take
Too long till the winter
When I can feel your strum

A traction on my heart
Vibrations on my soul
I'll wait for you my love
As we paddle the bustle
Love you as the dense of the night strokes. I long to have your babies telepathically through Skype!
for those whose mothers are no more
the annual business hype of what to give
    and where to take your mother
is but  a sad remembrance of loss
stirring up memories of happier times
when she was still a pillar in your universe
loved and revered, and sometimes feared,
who taught you, patiently or not,  
the basics of survival in your expanding world.

She knew, while you were as yet unaware  
that all her loving preparations
would over time mean separation.

When you struck out to shape your life
all by yourself and left her with her fears for you,
her wishes,  and the hopes that what she tried
to give you was enough and right,
your heart and mind were elsewhere,  far away,
focused upon the future of your independent life.

Your years run fast and busy, and suddenly one day
you stand before her coffin
and discover that it is too late
for all the questions never asked.

What you have left are memories
and a vague sense of having missed the chance
to see - and maybe even understand a little -
the woman she has also been
throughout her life, behind her loving face
of a dear mother’s care and grace.
The recent Mother’s Day triggered these lines and made me remember the time when my mother was alive.]
This one is for my followers.
Each one of you have hit that "follow button"
you read my poetry.
I have read yours,
each and every one of you,
I have read your poems.
Believe me, or not.
But I have.
Each and every one of you
are beautiful
You read my words,
you come into my world,
and for that
I thank you
You are reviving me.
Saving me.
Keeping me alive.
101 followers.
I feel so grateful
for you all.
Don't ever say
"No one cares about me"
I do
I care,
and I see your emotions
through your poetry
Thank you for reading
Bleeding Diamonds poetry
But that is just a username
this is from the boy behind the words.
This is Zach
thanking you
thank you
my 101 followers
=)
Today
is my birthday
Today has finally come.
15, folks.
14 no more.
Today is the day I can enjoy myself,
and look back at another painful yet good year.
Today
is my birthday.
The countdown is over.
This day has just begun,
THIS IS GONNA BE A HELL OF A TIME
lets go
4-19-16
Tomorrow is by birthday
*almost there, guys. SO **** close
My birthday is in 2 days
*the hype is so **** real
My birthday is in 3 days
*lets **** **** up
my birthday is in 4 days
Hell yeah
*This one's gonna be good
My birthday is in 5 days
*hot ****
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