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There is much about you to remember
Am terrified I might forget
To me appears you already have
Realization that makes me upset

Nothing to stop image from fading
From brain a bit more each day
Picture your face so clearly now
Know time will steal it away

Writing all our memories
The best way to ensure
In some way I'll preserve you forever
The perfect specimens we were

You do not care
Freeze precious snapshots
Because to you they did not matter
If love was a delicate vase
You would purposefully topple it simply to see shatter

Sit down to rest tired feet
Exhausted from leading around in laps
Do not know you're giving me the runaround
You set fire to all the maps
You can repair something broken but you will always have to see the cracks where you glued the pieces back together as long as you live
Payton Feb 24
"How did you know where to find me?" She whispered, her voice
cracking under her tears.

"I followed the maps you left in my heart, and I let my feet carry me to you, because I belong to you the way the stars belong in the sky." He said, holding her.

She nodded and more tears rolled off her chin.

"My darling, our stars, the very stars inside of us, go together like the sun and the moon. And I want nothing more than to be by your side, always."

In this moment, she knew she could never again wander away from his embrace.
This poem? prose? was written in 2016.
kmr Dec 2020
I see maps
And roadways
In everything.
In the scars
And all the marks
Upon my skin.
In the veins on my arms,
In the lines on my palms,
And in my eyes
When I stare into a mirror.
But these paths,
Where do they all lead?
Where is it  
I am meant to go?
Where is it
I am meant to be?
Afiifa Jeylani Oct 2020
Scramble for Africa,
Like pieces on a board game
North, south, east and west
Plains leading every way.

They don't have Bibles,
they don't have faith?
Perhaps it is time
we teach them of our ways.

Let us begin by erasing their past,
let's take some of their artefacts,
hang them in our museums;
admire our murderous past.

Afiifa Jeylani ©️
Truth hurts but lies ****... Happy Black History Month from London
chang cosido Sep 2020
πšπš˜πš—πš 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš”πš—πš˜πš ?
πš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽπš πš–πšŠπš™πšœ
πš˜πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšœπš”πš’πš—
𝚜𝚘 πš–πš’ πšπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›πšπš’πš™πšœ πš”πš—πš˜πš 
πš πš‘ich πš™πšŠπš›πšπšœ 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš‘πšžπš›πš
πšŠπš—πš πš πš‘ich πš™πšŠπš›πšπšœ πšπš˜πš—'𝚝.
πš’πšŸπšŽ πš–πšŽπš–πš˜πš›πš’πš£πšŽπš
πšŠπš•πš• πšπš‘πšŽ πš›πš’πšŸπšŽπš›πšœ
πš’πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšŸπšŽπš’πš—πšœ
πšŠπš—πš πš’ πš”πš—πš˜πš 
πš πš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ πš’πš πšŠπš•πš• πšŽπš—πšπšœ.
πš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽπš πš–πšŠπš™πšœ
πš˜πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšœπš”πš’πš—
𝚜𝚘 πš πš‘πšŽπš— πš–πš’ πšπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›πšœ
πšŠπš›πšŽ πš—πš˜ πš•πš˜πš—πšπšŽπš› πšπš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ
𝚝𝚘 πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽ πš’πš,
πš’πš πš πš’πš•πš• πš”πš—πš˜πš  πš‘πš˜πš 
𝚝𝚘 πšŠπšŒπš‘πšŽ πšπš˜πš› πš–πšŽ.
Hammra Sistur Aug 2020
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
.
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
standing pota the furthest star
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €six snoitcerid to tilt your heading
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €a fael breaks free and takes flight
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
love sah no bearing
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €it ******without a choice
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β € maps. evisulcnocni.
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oh erus they will tell you cause and effect and
all taht...
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €but i like to think that some things happen
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €because (yeht) happen
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
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β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
}advice for the soul that is lost
in the carnage of summer memories
melting the years together{
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €β €
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Rossyam Hadi Jul 2020
We get on the ride
without any maps
or compass to guide us,
we create our own ways
and start the journey.

It could be dangerous,
but I feel safe
sitting beside you
as you take the wheel
and bring us
to somewhere new.

We will watch
every sunrise and sunset
while I rest my head
on your shoulder
and be your permanent passenger.

I want to see
the world with you,
we can go places
that we have never been,
seeing seven wonders,
exploring exotic and historical cities,
capturing priceless moments.

After the long trip,
I will always come back
to your arms,
my comfort place
and waking up
to your face,
my favourite morning view.
#PermanentPassengerπŸ—Ί is about when found the one that you can do everything together with - you can travel the world together and at the same they are the person that will be waiting for you at home.
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
We are all treading water
Trying to keep our heads above the waves

Same game
Different methods of beating bosses in every victorious match

Dealing with maps encountered everywhere progressed in this world
No matter how complicated the terrain or what difficulty the opposition is set to

Just multiple devils disguised as characters to test character and integrity

In the digital world if mistakes are made get to retry levels until you get it right

If you die
That death does not equal a permanent zap out of existence but instead is more like a breif catnap
Then you are magically healed and respawned like a phoenix rising from the ash and ruin

The same miracle does not work like that in reality

When our time comes we are banished from this living hell we have named Earth to reside in a perpetual pitch-black exile

There is no consolation prize
Bonus round
Final scoring or tallying of points to alter the outcome of events
The only resemblance the end of a human beings life has to a video game is the "sudden death" part
If my life was a video game I think it would be something like Kingdom Hearts
Michael R Burch Feb 2020
Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgivenessβ€”a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.

Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?

Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?

Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?

My family did get lost in an English moor on a dark moonless night. It happened when I was a boy. My mother was driving and seemed to have no idea where we were, or which direction to head. I wondered if we would ever find civilization again. It was a very spooky experience that I drew on for my poem. Keywords/Tags: England, Devon, moor, car, headlamps, headlights, directions, maps, points, routes, strangers, signals, orchard, field, geese, hearts, relationships, parting, separation, divorce, loneliness, alienation, free verse
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