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Andra Jan 7
you sit
and look towards the sky
for nothing.

the rain can wash your cheeks
but your soul stays the same.
impure.
tainted.

and all you can do is continue
like this;
with a clean pinkish face
dragging your soul by the hair.
and you smile because you don't know.
hey you!
naive!
the rain doesn't heal!
v Apr 2020
One step after the other following each one attached by barb wire. Keys in hand, heavy weight weighing down my *******. One cold metal touch right in the cusp of my hand. The keys
jingle jangle, jingle jangle, jingle jangle scraping the sheer layer of my skin. Hair viciously being pulled back by the wind... pulling and tugging never stopping when I say no. Truth be told he only stops until I fold.
Hold my hand.
To a frozen touch.
Day 4?
Jay M Oct 2020
Quiver, shiver
Tell me what you see
A trillion eyes
Staring at me?

Flickering light
Hands in their flight
Clack, clacking away
At keys of black
Refusing to say
To utter but a word
Adjust a greatly aching back

Cold and filled with pins
Unwilling, shift in unease
As I sit here
Clack, clacking away
At keys of black
Lingering is a gripping fear
Nevermore are there to be great wins
Only sins
Of failure and defeat

Baking in the boiling heat
For my sister
Something sweet to eat
While my brain is playing twister

Back to the keys
Oh the clack, clacking keys!
How they press,
How they form my stress
Into something beyond my brain
To express my tries in vain

Listen, and listen well,
For this day is a taste of hell
One of many soon to swell

So each day
Here I stay
Clack, clacking at the keys
Unsure when this racing mind shall be at ease.

- Jay M
October 20th, 2020
Oh the great stresses of high school.
Piano keys are like humans,
Both black and white
Alone as notes,
Just producing sounds
But together as chords,
They produce symphonies.
Every one of us has the potential to create harmony in their lives, but that often takes a great deal of collaboration and working together.

Individual sounds won't give you that pleasure and harmony that a musical chord can.

For a colourful life, we must appreciate all colours.
Jack Harrell Jul 2020
My sunglasses twinkle
While they lay on your breast
I say “Go mingle”
You say “I’ll do my best”

We’ve been doing alright
We’re getting by
It’s been what, a week now?
Since either of us has cried

“Time to go” keys jingle
Crunching through the snow
It sounds like stale Pringles
“Why’d we have to go?”

“Why were we there at all?”
“I don’t know? Welfare call?”
“I just want to go to sleep”
“Our blankets run deep”

Keys jingle “Back. Finally.”
One slow upstairs trod

Above my door frame
A white board hangs on a rod

9 \ Days since last breakdown

“Scratch that”

Zero
I wrote this a while ago when I was a different person. May it bring you solace should you need it or a reflection upon your past self.
Gabriel Girault Jun 2020
I wanted to give you the world,
Unfortunately it wasn’t in a college student’s budget.
So I gave you the next best thing,
I made you my world.
Gave you the keys,
And I threw away any locks.
I let you free roam and play around my heart,
and I prayed you wouldn’t play GTA 5.
I may have a big heart,
but it can only take so many drive-bys.
Once you hit five stars,
All I could do is spray and pray for my feelings.
When you finally said goodbye,
Everything hurt exponentially.
So I tried to find the locks,
Before the damage could be done.
But they disappeared the first time I looked into your eyes,
Eyes that completely changed my perspective.
Once I opened up everything to you,
Now I can't go back to heart lock down.
My world has transformed,
For better or for worse only time can decide.
ogdiddynash Jun 2020
there are so many
types of pockets,
especially for jeans.
my favorite is the “ticket pocket,”
that little pocket stitched
inside a bigger front pocket,
maybe also called a
“watch” pocket,
supposedly
a cowboy designation
for safeguarding
their chained pocket watch receptacle.

who ya kidding?

anyway, a second naming
more to my liking:

seems cowboys put their train ticket where they could easily
retrieve them as the conductor conducted himself properly,
asking each passenger after every stop to show his ticket.

so it came to be,
Levi gave us pockets of variety,
durable, baggy ones to
carry our jewels comfortably,
one for tightly ticket embracing,
and further inspired that
sewn on the hat of
every railroad conductor,
a russian motto,
Trust but Verify.

I myself use the ticket pocket for
my keys,
which in any other jeans pocket, movement
causes cruel and unusual pain,
but not if that huge bunch of jangling
instruments of torture are tightly tucked
in their own prison interior,
incapable of doing hot yoga or
any other stupid exercise requiring
Bo jingling jangling movement

Just don’t you dare ask me
what the purpose of each key be,
it is just a tortured secret for men
in the private parts of their soul,
to confess that keys carried
for three houses ago,
are a metallic proofs that men
are indeed as dumb
as women think they are...

show me a rusted lock somewhere,
I got an hour to try ‘em all
Em Glass Jun 2020
I’m collecting keys,
weighed with opportunities
that stretch my pocket
a poem a day, but the opening is ramping up
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