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After many working days of giving of myself in love patience and endurance There are joys in the mist  and I'm Thankful
The days past have had their struggles and blessings.. I have been facing the challenges ..
The mentals cares and the growing pains that comes with time experience and rough edges..
I know Sleep has  been  a thing I have chased, and tried my hardest to pin down.. by accidental falls..
Sleep where are you my heart calls.
But yet my days catch her sometimes..lolzz I mean really..
I crave for certain events on days.. its absence quite chilly.
Yet there are many delays..
But this Wednesday I needed Wednesday the rains fell and poured me replenishment to my thirst, and dear love Wednesday loved me.. dearly  gave me the rest I needed.
Wednesday fell upon me, and gave love, like cloud nine times eleven sent.
I tried to hold on to Wednesday and pouted as it had to carry on...
Now its Thursday and as I labor my eyes cry for rest to sleep as I'm pushing and working strong.
This day has been long..
  My off days are Thursday and Friday..
Sunday and Monday may bring, rest and love, flowers, and kisses and sweet misses
of sweet napping's I'll say..
ahh don't delay..
@ selinasharday_rose H.E.R #POETRY 2023 S.A.M Published.
Its about love
There is a dead beetle on the floor in the bathroom.
It has been there for weeks.
Someone must have noticed it but paid it no mind.
More than someone.
No one has bothered its carcass.
Its legs are curled in at odd angles, not unlike an infant sleeping.
Someone would notice an infant sleeping.
An infant sleeping on the floor of a bathroom.
Or an infant dead in a bathroom on the cold, grey tiles.

The color of its dark body is in stark contrast to the light floor, but still it is ignored.
Have I been bright enough in this life to stand out?
Am I light against the dark?
Or dark against the light?
Will I be remembered?
As I slide through the experience of living, I don't know what impression I've made.
Am I the dead beetle?
Will I be the dead beetle?
My life has not been bold.
One may only presume the same of the beetle.
There are too many people in this world for me to be a true stand-out.
I merely exist.
No matter my color against the background of life, I am simply waiting to be swept away.
As inconsequential as a dead beetle in the bathroom with little attention paid.

There is a saying that everyone dies twice.
First when you leave the mortal realm.
The second time when your name is last spoken and your memory ceases to exist amongst the living.
What if you never live and are paid no mind.
Can you really die then?
What if I am not even the beetle?
What if I'm less than a drop in the bucket in the universe and I slip through the cracks of society?
At least the beetle gets a poem.
Renn Pat Nov 2022
are the some days
You sometimes dread,
and wish to stay in bed,
but looking back,
it's a fact,
that Mondays,
were the one day,
that made it all make sense.
To feel enough, is to know what you have.
And it's hard to see it, when your eyes are only on the prize.
Elizabeth Kelly Dec 2021
Feeling the rain more than hearing it
6:24 dark and threatening
It’s so cold in this ******* basement

2 hours and 36 minutes away
Crouching in plain sight
The work day.

Delivering food for the food bank, which is punk as **** frankly,
It’s a wasteland out here
And people need to eat

(A human right, if I understand the constitution correctly. Happiness is a lost pursuit in a body that’s hungry. You say food is a privilege <yes, you said it and believed it>, I say it’s life and liberty.)

Two 15 pound bags at a time
In exchange for baggage a mile high
Stacking cred against labor to build tone in your thighs

My joints wonder how young I think I am
Remembering the time my leg seized up and that old man just stared until I saw him see me and I smiled, I’m so silly

Hurry before all this pain ripens to taste
Slug it down like tequila
Try not to make a face
Born at the finish line, running in place.

2 hours and 26 minutes to make the coffee and absorb the caffeine
While I’m still me
And there’s nothing else to be
Looking forward to working outside in the rain. Good morning.
keni Sep 2021
The water that goes in
and out of my body
the soft spoken words
that reach my tounge
I stare at the door and he stares at me
I am no opening
nor ending and yet,
I hate the color of anger and
the color of rebellion
in the same way
I hate violence
I hate the color of blood
the choice of liking something became clear
When you have no choice you choose a path
When theres two you question
when there's five you question
I hate the color red in the
same way I hate lust
I hate the color red the
same way I hate you
And I came not hate red anymore
in the mornings instead
I look up and I came to
think that I don't hate red but
the misery of me.
I hate the color red
JKirin Sep 2021
Magic beans and fairytale lattes
ease your burdens, supply you with strength.
To survive through yet one of your Mondays,
sip the warmth and release a held breath.
about the magic of coffee
Raven Feels Jul 2021

to be rich is to notice the fair from the unfair
give no judge to wisdom from the first stare
but not on the Earth thing
the brutality royal flushes and stings

now I fear
that someday that wheel is put to gear
put the cursed paper
on a thorny throne later

afraid my nose would sniff the skies
afraid my hopes would tear my early rise
afraid my greed would bury my shame
afraid my humor would be trashed in lame

not for me
a jeopardizing frisbee
my tarnished house warmer than a fancy chimney
promise my dreams in purple
faithful to myself would never be a hurdle

Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the grass is not green:)

too much to bare
the polar twins resemblance in no fair

now the run I understand
still the twist of burning faces is what I can't

ran wind free
a second of nothing but me

the blonds in uniqueness stand under the red light
wait until the fear cripples and the big dog bites

the tea boiling somewhere for no one to drink
the ruined building leaves a pile to think

pupils dilate
thoughts shrink swallowing the bate

yet the crowd remains
I shower in public and fingerprints don't stain

a red rock star barks
stage shakes and throats are mic marked

nice dreams but crap
the plutonian not funny when children under your feet you have

                                                           ­                      -------ravenfeels
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