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Makayla Jane Jun 9
I'm somewhere between heartache and agony,
Where your soul feels it's being crushed mercilessly
Yet, a raging anger
Burning its way through my body and melting my brain
Singing my insides;
Unable to think rationally

Trying to ignore you is like trying not to breathe
I can't help but look at your face,
And to tell myself this isn't real

I want to try and fix things but then again I don't wanna rush it and hurt things more instead...

I made a public collection {Letters To Jennie Collection} so all further letter posts will be together if anyone would want to follow it and read them. Thank you for your time~
The man lays on the side of the road,
Looking raggedy and feeling old,

Bandanna on his head,
And wearing ripped jeans,

His mind thinks back,
to the good times in his teens,

In the heat of the day,
He sits and he sings.

Only his guitar for company,
As he plucks at the strings,

In his hey day, he had lived like a king,
Now he sits alone counting his sins,.

Remembering all the people, who have come and gone,
Sometimes the days can seem so long,

In a blink of an eye life can change,
So be kind to other's, As you bask in your glory,

Don't be so quick to judge,
Because we don't know their story.
As t accidentally posted my draft of this poem a few days ago , I thought I'd post the finished version now. Hope you enjoy.
The uniVerse Jun 5
masters of deception
taste your corruption
you take something perfect
and fill it with hate
tell me I’m wrong
that I don’t belong
that’s what you’re good at
twisting facts
to divide and conquer
fill them with fear
I’m not playing my part
I’m not white by design
I’m white by luck
and so I’m stuck
in a war over skin
where to begin
with stupidity
that stupid grin
can’t hide sin
I smell it on you
you stink
of fear and lies
they all rise
like a single hive
they all white
not with purity
but forcefully
trying to scrub
the world clean
till all that’s left
is what reflects
with a pinch of insanity
Written 29th July 2019
Em MacKenzie Jun 5
There is only so long
you can struggle to make a bed
before you realize,
that it's a futon.
An old note I wrote down months and months ago.
Jace Joseph Jun 4
All of the loss from all the hate,
With so much injustice around
I fail to hold these cries.
As we'll all just grieving
In anyway we can express.
With problems from deep rooted
seeds of Bigotry and ignorance.
That we need to pull quickly
Out from all of this soil,
So our garden may flourish.
A nation in grieving from all these trama's, being together truly means everything.
The concern roams in the alleyway,
A few yards from this garden,
Miles from the synthetic sunshine of the day

It resides now in a place locked away,
And often ponders upon its purpose,
In the fogged splinters of a 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 one-way mirror

A bit hazy from the distance, but I see,
Its come to love the abouts of the abandoned street,
On peaceful days, it jumps off the edge of the cliff,
Immortal as ever, it returns to wander the streets yet still

Perhaps, like the seed, it shall forever live
Perhaps, like the tree, it's meant to root within
Only that its roots, die when watered
When addressed and attended, they succumb.
Do you really think looking away would help?
All of life is dead and the Sun has set.
Wet is the battlefield with blood after the brawl.
Stenches of death and sweat from both sides,
divides and drenches the trenches.
Sounds echo eerily quiet;
quite loud and profound.
All is for naught, as the vultures of the President descend.

The celadon leader smiles as he looks upon his ****** empire.
His vicious hunger is never fulfilled and his smaragdine iniquity smothers.
He wants, no, needs more; a never-sated, rapacious desire.
A broken country built on the backs and deaths of others;
evermore he wants and he wants evermore.
An incessant life drowned in cupidity and submerged in green,
but he is never jaded. He is a ***** emerald without valor.
His unclean desire for money recklessly expands as a deep ravine.

Avarice trumps the morals,
while he spreads a pestilential malignancy through the air.
The sacred blood of innocents binds together his laurels.
But the need for greed is exponential and blinds him to his error.
The mindless masses amass themselves at his mere feet,
but his mere feats only sum to immense ignorance and hate.
As he continues to stand for nothing but hypocrisy,
and his sycophants continue to vacuously prate.
It is a lesson for us all as a warning for our souls.
Covetousness is a viridian plague with no cure.
He corrupts spirits and gains unrighteous power from the polls.
But he is no leader, he’s only a false savior siphoning from the poor.
I first wrote this nearly two years ago but I never released it until now, when things are at a boiling point. It seems like everything takes its course eventually.
Your tresses are not smooth and silky have got grey hair!!
Your skin is breaking
There are lines on your forehead.
Why you are so skinny?
Don't you eat well...

You don't seem pristine,
Just look at your ravishing friend.

Yes...i do agree to the above delineation
But don't know many facts.

That I was wide-awake uncountable nights
for my little ones,
Be it the school project or making that perfect attire for my princess's fancy dress
Or those sleepless nights with ear ache , fever or growing pains.

I have sometimes heard you talking about me from behind.
But have that golden heart to come and know my plight....
I would share with you the story of my pale visage
As  I have always loved my family more before self.

Ageing is a natural phenomena
Come to me I will guide you
Know that those lines and silver strands are signs of my eternal beauty,
But I can't blame your ignorance,as it is known by few.

Bina Mukherjee
Words' Worth May 20
I don't believe in love
Because it always
Has two parties
One has a story to tell and the other dies early

I don't believe in sentences
Because lovers can finish them for one another
When they feel like it
Or if they are alive

I don't believe in crime
If it is to be in love
Then I don't believe what I say
God tells me things, he's a little voice that tells me be kind

I don't listen to voices
When they tell me don't believe others
I just choose loneliness
I can spend counting the stars, thinking of her

So, believe in yourself
Love is the answer
Eslam Dabank May 19
The dance of ignorance marks our era,
The revelry howls into their ears,
But isn't opening a mind, only a bra.

Smoke is what we learned from Chimera,
Hangovers, falsehood, imbecility - unrestrained
Their most loyal friend, is dear nausea.

Drugs and **** brings them the aurora,
Living is nice, when we are unconscious.
In this reality, we are no Andromeda.

Advocacy of the unknown, is their chroma,
Defines their existence and ensures a legacy.
All is, a pseudo pride, and a fictitious corona.

Injustice, corruption ghosts within the area
Multilateral sins, unilateral sentence,
Flows into their logic like satisfying aria.

Bogus beliefs, to rise, and rule are a plethora,
Empty imposters control, destroy and mooch,
And what we see is an illusion of an aura.

Defiling the Quran, the bible, and the Torah,
With what a gold holder wishes and needs.
Whomever defies them, loses their aorta.

All will be fallen, America, Europe and Russia.
Hatred, arrogance, saturation of trivialities,
Is taken in, in grace, like the seduction of Delilah.

Concerts unify us, not our humanity, it's in coma,
Lack of fellowship, digs deeper into division.
If only books, not Lady gaga, were your holy diva.

The void will swallow us all, the diaspora,
The loss of our identity, truth, entity and ego.
Finding our roots, is our everlasting dilemma.
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