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Rafael Melendez Sep 2016
I am no more than the ground beneath you, I hold the life of everybody so dearly in my roots. You are fire, and you burn me of those roots with every step you take. I am no longer a safe place for them to grow. I am only salted ground beneath your marching feet.
Had a dream the world came to an end last night. It caught on fire.
Cesca Sep 2016
The day that we spoke
is the day that my heart went afloat
Weeks and months has passed
My feelings just continued to blast

March was the month,
The month I smile
Then May came along,
That my story turn into a sad song

Years have passed
You've found yourself another lass
And yet I'm here,
My eyes just continue to tear.
Chloe Chapman Jul 2016
I consume time, as I march at a steady beat.
I may seem fearsome, but you I will not eat.
I once was a multitude, in times long past,
But now I am encased in gold and glass.
Inspired by the Corpus Christi clock, Cambridge, also known as the time eater, and the locust clock.
Dana Skorvankova Jun 2016
That life as we heard of
For those who live it
There's a kind of sad happiness
I enjoy differently,

Incurable is this weight
Descending with the smoke
Rainy landscape is the only
Attitude worthy.

During three straight days
Cruel fate of the dead and punished
Love wearies or disappoints
On the God's march,

No inner dimension
O tarnished happiness
Wondrous lands sheltered me
Left in peace so cold and large.
Cyrus Gold May 2016
Feelin’ like a new model keepin’ thoughts in a safe
Nothin’ but new beginnings while maintainin’ the faith
Of better days ahead, walkin’ away instead
The world on my shoulders while walkin’ on eggshells

Difficult steps lead to redemption, no need for attention
Dowsin’ my sorrows in drinks with a fear of reinvention
Weakened souls lackin’ ambition – ones that we attend to
Distracted by the means to makin’ profit

Pharaohs and kings reach Ozymandias
Castle of the manliest reduced to rubble
Inspiration's a privilege, the uninitiated struggle
Lookin’ to the stars closer to Mercury

Celebrating longer than a single anniversary
Build the padlocked building blocks of the brain, preventin’ burglary
Intellect protection needs remedial advancement
Followin' the lessons and morals of real testaments

Crimson waters divided by Moses, halving the sea
Aidin’ people across, the shepherd leadin’ the sheep
Heated cycle of violence by disciples
De-escalated by the sacred teachings of the bible

Able to color-code their understandin’ with a cipher
Gifted in nature, minus robotics turnin’ sentient

WE MARCH!
Hand-in-hand in unison! A unit full of sin
But we protect the world from Judases,
Our doubts are in the wind

A state of peace we feel the crew is in
The rest will follow soon,
Our inner voice of hate is ludicrous
It sings a hollow tune.

Leavin' this place without askin' just where the exit is,
Keep a steady pace as we're headin' right into exodus.


Lessons are taught to help you rise from the fall,
Nirvana awaitin' – you better answer the call.
One of my personal favorites. Written at a time when I needed divine inspiration.
AB May 2016
Life always moves forward
With you,
Without you,
For you,
Against you,
But always forward.

It's unfortunate for us all,
That time never stops. Moments
Must be stolen from its clutches.
But we find them. We hold our moments
Against Time's relentless march,
And in that
We win.

No, time will never slow down.
But it will never go any faster either.
It simply moves forward.
Don't let it control how you live.
Your life is yours.
Always yours.
Had a pretty big letdown today and I'm trying to help myself see that there will always be new opportunities
Peter Balkus Apr 2016
It's supposed to be joyful tune,
why then it sounds so sad?
No happiness in it,
more like a funeral march.

Look at the bride,
she is so upset, so down.
Oh my God! She's crying!
Does anyone here know why?

Look at her husband-to-be,
his eyes and his whole face, so dim,
something is wrong
with him.

Something beautiful  should begin
with tying the knot.
But there's nothing to start,
more likely to stop.  

The bride was about to make
a great escape, run away.
But her man was faster than her.
And the vicar was faster then her man.

It's supposed to be joyful tune,
why then it sounds so sad?
No happiness in it,
more like a funeral march.
Sian Carrington Apr 2016
Here lies ahead our road to freedom*
Cracked deep beneath our blistered toes
Seeped full with red and black ink
that had once painted the shades of propaganda.
Our boots, soulless and worn like hearts of lead
leaked blood-stained fear and red-raw dread.

The path ahead of stone and ice stretched on
for decades... or was it days?
Time was the beat of marching men.

Through the thick yellow fog, we spluttered, cursed blind,
and choked on the calls of fallen heroes whose
cries grew distant with every staggered step.

Beneath the ghostly glare of shattered street lights, we trudged
on and on.
Until our ankles, raw and bruised
buckled beneath our weights;
Down onto the ice to sooth sore limbs
and stifle the scorn
that droned on the wind.

We will not surrender. This day
we are men with visions of glory that glow beyond golden gates
and wait for us in old age. But not today.

Today we make history;
So that one day when I sit my granddaughter on my knee
I can tell her why she, her grandpa and her country are free.
This is dedicated to my grandpa, a wing commander in the RAF during the second world war and a subsequent POW in Stalug Luft III. The poem relates to his march from Poland to Germany in 1945. I have never been more proud of anyone. We are forever indebted to those who fought for our freedom.
I curl up in March 21st
Like a renegade lost at sea
finally reaching the shore

Some days it had felt
Like the waves would never stop
Like they would always be
Crashing over me
Again and again
Until I ceased to get  back up
Others were calm
Numbly floating in the currents
Letting the ocean take me  
Too tired to fight

And every day
I thought about it
And every day
I think about it
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