Lily 16h
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I simply need that connection I have with
My friends, the ones who I don’t get to talk to
Often, that have all but disappeared from
My life, but I can still see them on the screen.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I like to read stories and poems,
Browse the Internet’s fanfiction,
Write my own works, and receive feedback
From friends and critics alike.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I just worry about the people I care about,
Wanting to know where they are
And what they are doing;
Not unlike the protective nature you have with me.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
Sometimes, I just need to check the time.
Written with the help of my nine year old cousin, Natalie.
Tremendous pressure
    Between two trees
The pressures of autumn
    Which crinkles the fallen, forgotten, leaves
    And cry beneath our feet
As we grind them slowly back to the earth
    Unknowingly, she knows
    And drinks it all in
Like a summers mead
My head... good Lordy my head, just behind my eyes. /:
Babe, you know I'd love to go and
meet your mother,
but I've been hearing that she
kicks like a mule.
Maybe I should just go
undercover
so I don't seem like such a fool.
Lisa 1d
i guess this is secondary
perhaps it always is
i'll be riding the bus afterschool
my kneecaps bare and cold
this year i'm into ankle socks and the
girl bands that no one is talking about but they should
this is downtown
and my woolen sweater feels out of place
i can feel my house key in my pocket
i wish i had gum
so she fishes it out of her purse
we land somewhere in Macy's and I can smell
Department store and expensive perfume
the kind i'll later find in angry women at bars with
low cut shirts and crooked wrinkles
as we step outside it begins to rain
i run up ahead, up the hill and the buildings fall
the water melts as my hair sticks to my face
i think "this is my eternity"
and as i look back i see my mother
and i know that these days
will stay close to my skin always
hxrvld 2d
Wrap me with a painted canvas of warm sunsets,
My fingers move accordingly to its tunes,
My animalistic nature hunts for peace,
As every wood are my lovers,
Every stone is my protection,
I am the storm of catastrophe,
You should obey the law,
I am the tsunami,
I am the law.

The devil breeds by the loud preach,
Turning the heart of gold to stone,
As morality is a joke,
As my life is aging old,
I’ve seen your dark colors,
Sharpening my lands to the city of needles,
Since, young generation worships electricity,
Since, flora and fauna are only fantasy,
I let myself fallen into sick,
To let you foresee my disease,
To let you purify your sins.

Unfortunately,
I am the law and you against me,
This is a note to you,
Save me and I save you.
Dear, Mother Nature
What surprise?
The model is tied
To our constructions,
Roughly,
But it sends the smoke
Screen away to reveal
A pattern and form.
The modern man
With a penis seeks to find
Purpose in his ejaculate,
But the finding may be done
In an abject lack
And sitting in place.
What surprise?
The (alpha) man
Who rapes control
Will prostrate
Himself
To the systems
Ensuring access
To unrestricted
Greed and Lust.
That fucker!
It's not about you
At the bottom --
Deep and down, we
Share this problem:
Models up above, on
Pedestals take
Both testosterone
And estrogen to
Oppressive absolutes.
lins 2d
I don’t know what I’m doing wrong
I read this poem to my mom
and you know how she chose to respond?
with a soft grunt that was truly withdrawn

she doesn’t seem to have a care
for what I might choose to share
I used to leave my soul out bare
but now I voice my thoughts elsewhere
Maybe unfinished maybe not.
One For The Road


A mother cries, at her babies smile,
Because everything is alright.
A father lies dying in his car,
He’s not coming home tonight.


If only he had changed his ways,
If only he had used his head today.
If he hadn’t gone out to celebrate,
Maybe he would be coming home again.


There’s been another crash on Route 66,
That left a single mother with a newborn kid.
It’s just another headline news story,
It’s just another drink-drive tragedy.


So drink!  And drive!  And party all night,
It feels so good to turn out the lights.
It feels so good to step on the gas,
It feels so good, until you crash!


So drink!  And drive!  And party all night,
It feels so good to turn out the lights.
It feels so good to step on the gas,
It feels so good, until you crash!


A man lies dying in his car,
He dreams of holding his baby in his arms.
But we all know that will never happen;
Never again will he know happiness.
We all know how the story ends;
A single mother with a newborn kid.


Another crash on Route 66,
Another victim of the Devils drink.
Another headline news story,
Another drink-drive tragedy.


So drink!  And drive!  And party all night,
It feels so good to turn out the lights.
It feels so good to step on the gas,
It feels so good, until you crash!


So drink!  And drive!  And party all night,
It feels so good to turn out the lights.
It feels so good to step on the gas,
It feels so good, until you crash!


So if you’re drunk and sat in a bar,
Just hand over the keys to your car.
Go and call yourself a cab,
Because it's not too late for you to be a good Dad.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Here I sit
Upon this old rustic wood
Gazing upon her untouched shore
Her wind softly kisses me
And caresses my back
Her tears fall as cracked brown spotted leaves
Making way for fresh green feelings in spring
It’s quiet here
With just her and I
Nobody says a word
Yet I can hear her contently sigh
She greets me with her shiny bright eye
And whispers
Welcome home
Welcome home
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