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Dreams of demise,
laughter and joy,
coughing up blood,
as we go about,
celebrating wars.

We revel in victory,
with blood-stained faces.
As we wrestle with our demons,
as we choke on our own blood.
It's human compulsion,
to seek satisfaction,
from laughter,
from tears of joy.

As the world comes to an end,
someone will shout,
"Drink and be merry!"
"For tonight we dine in ****!"
A cliche,
a repeated glorification.

Laugh all you want,
as you shield your eyes,
and open your mouth.
Disregarding your death,
you try to live with a smile.
Be it with yourself alone,
or with families and friends.

Have a beer,
don't be tense.
It's just fear,
and innocence.
Cry a single tear,
jump the fence,
it's coming near,
our laughter and dread.
pain, agony, all the teenager-y angst, the edgy meme lord, the one who uses humor to hide his depression, the teens who glorify wars, the enlisted boys who got won over by propaganda, the sadness of a failing first love, i've spat out what most of use have in common; our spices of youth.
Matthew 7d
A moment she was already starting to repress.
That would never come back again...
Though, she gained weight.
Something she couldn't deny.
It was her boyfriend's
she told
them all.

It was okay.
They threw
her a shower
and gave her
gifts.

She smiled
for her
baby.

To come
in
many
months.

Oblivious
to
the

b
l
o
o
d

spil
lin
n
g

from


her



thighs.
A story of an expecting mother
the sound
of your laughter
folds me
into a paper bird



but i can only fly
when you hold me
Audra Jan 12
Your rolling eyes
Have turned to smiles,
And the shake of your head
Has become playful.

The lips that once uttered
Cold curses and sarcasm
Now bring forth
Melodies of joy.

And this change
That I have started to notice
Gives you a smile—
My lips curve upward as well.
innocent, happy smiles on someone else bringing me joy
Wolf Dec 2018
Laughter is like makeup
Proper use
Enables youth and joy
But just as simply
Great amounts
Cover sights for no one's eyes
Concealing a blemish
Disguising deep despair
Fake fools shall be found out
As I have already failed
Makeup run dry
Laughter deemed empty
Deb Jones Dec 2018
I have loved you all your life
The little girl that bloomed into
A child that was deeply introspective
The wisdom that was always
Reflected in your eyes.
You are beautiful
With your dark hair
Your dark eyes
The Italian in you
The artistry of you.
There is nothing you can’t do.
I not only love you
But I am deeply in awe of you
I laugh with you like no other
You fill my heart
With gladness
That you are part of me
And always will be
You are so beautiful
I want you to see yourself
Through my unclouded eyes
The exotic beauty of you
The big heart you carry
The caring you have for
Everyone you love
And the protective umbrella
That expands to cover all
Your loved ones
The way you focus
On whoever you are talking to
Making them feel
As if they are the most importan
Person you have ever met
People are drawn to you.
Circling you like a sun
You are grounded
And one of the most intelligent
Of all the people I know
You know a little
About so many things
And a lot about so many  
Big things
With you I have no shame
I know my words are safe
You carry me in your heart
Just like I carry you in mine
Can’t you see yourself like I do?
Exotically beautiful
So charming
So interesting
So strong
So wonderful
I am so proud of the woman
You have become
I am so blessed
To have you as my sister
Her gentle eyes like
mirrors
reflected the amber brilliant
flame
Happiness in her smile
glows.

Sweet laughter drips from
her lips.

Warmth & comfort in
her hands.

Language is but a small
barrier
easily
hurtled
by laughter & joyous
eyes.
Steve Page Jan 5
It was a busy night with room only for small talk around the dark stained table.  She sat in half shadow, as still as bambi after the gunshot and just as alone. And they talked.

At her finger tips her glass brooded, part full of a rich emptiness and part of potential, the combination reeking of a love unexplored with a whiff of harboured regret.  They talked knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder, all smiles and pork scratchings.

She sat and left her past week buried like old sorrow, glad to listen to those with less to say while despair trickled down her left cheek, unnoticed.   They talked, voices lost in the clamour of glasses and the void of wet laughter.

"You're quiet tonight, Silvi. Your Tom not around this week?"
"No, not this week."

She sat and they talked, knee to knee and miles apart.
This started as a short poem. Then when I came back to it it became more prose.
Aysha Jan 5
And of melodies & songs I find most comforting, soothing when a wave of sadness comes ashore,
There’s a laugh and a cracked voice, there’s that & so much more I’ve come to adore.
When the scratches ebbed into my arms weigh a ton, and the burden of living becomes so much that I want it to come undone.
And then I cry at night, shed a tear or two, or laugh until I can’t anymore ‘cause my breath left me and my lips turned blue.

Only then there’s nothing anymore, no songs or melodies or laughs. Only the light at the end of the hall where I spent most evenings weeping & crying in haste.

As I lie with my earth-shattering problems all carved into the lines of my forehead and eyes, the ground finally engulfs me, there’s no more disguise.
And then in melodies and songs I found so comforting, there was you. Singing your head off and sometimes humming, or in some cases throwing a shoe!
found this old one in my notes
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