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Apollo Hayden May 23
I may seem like I'm lost
but only because you're searching for something you'll never find.
I may no longer be able to hear your voice but I can still feel your eyes.
Life is love and I'm so in love with life.
Still dancing with poetry because she never leaves long after those who were here are no longer in sight-
Insight has shown me a whole new world like I'm on a carpet that flys
and my head is the genie so I rub it twice to let out the light.
Shining from the inside out and learning how to move,
leaving you wondering about things you have no business wondering about and so it just leaves you even more confused.
I'm a ravens feather in the wind,
I'm a muses muse,
catching fire whenever writing from the depths,
redirecting my energy to things that make it easier to breathe, instead of feeling spent because I'm up to my chest in spiritual debt.
Nothing to prove...
Nothing to see even though you think I show it all,
but you'll need a few oxygen tanks to dive deep enough to understand just how I breathe.
Till then, with this pen I'll cause inception and use it to get through the layers of your dreams.
To search out your true intentions and see if you really came to love or just to hurt me.
Well this time around my shields much bigger and my sword is sharper too,
so I'm blocking everything and anything that doesn't serve my highest good and cutting into the marrow to look for truth.
I'll be invisible so the things you think you know, you really have no clue.
Though you think you see, your eyes deceive
as I write quietly I silently move.
the game is over,
chess pieces all, put away.
yet the mind plots moves!
Life
is like a
tic-tac toe game.
Every move you make
adds up
to what will happen
in the end.
How strange life Is you can change the path you walk upon In a split second a decision that will change your life
forever
A bit like a game of chess you can plan a move you can make the move but until you let go of the piece
the move can be
reversed
Once you let go, the move Is made there Is no taking It back just as In life once you've decided which path In life you'll
take
Your move Is made, life Is but a game of chess each
of us represents a piece on the board each piece that's moved
A pathway through life Is forged to where we will follow that path through
life the move Is
made
And like every piece on the board still to be moved you can still change the outcome on life
Just as you can In a game of chess and to where It may still take
you
Life Is but a game of chess where we can change direction by the move we make through out our life
Jodie-Elaine Nov 2018
The day sits waiting in it's pear-shaped
room, one of the vacant eyed occupants of other, older,
occupied chairs.
The day crosses it's knees, one leg
over the other as a white flag,
resignation.
The day wants it's peace,
it fought the world wars, caught it's reflection aged,
tripped over itself
calling itself out, a
tripwire
unravelled.
This day knows it won't live tomorrow,
knows it's wanted blind and poor, so waits
           waits
in a waiting room,
wasting the room's air in an exchange of
          silent
blows.
This day is counting down it's losses, putting
all of it's seconds in a jam jar.

And there are screams never externalised, legs never uncrossed,
paperweights weighing less than those they push to the floor, and
this day is
screaming,
this day is
flailing
from the inside out in the form of folded linen,
inconspicuous on a plastic chair.
This day holds
up the moon,
hears it's laughter and falls through the cracks
in the tide.
His knuckles aren't
connected to his fingertips and
shoulders feet apart
from the spine,
the spine crossing one leg over the other in a pear-shaped room
with fingertips tapping at themselves, writhing into an hourglass formation.
This day is holding
up the walls.
Count this day lost when your eyes skip it, miss it, dance past it
in a waiting room.
Count this day screaming
when you wake up tomorrow.
Remmy Aug 2017
I feel trapped

trapped in time

time moves so slowly and there is no way of escaping it

you want to be in the past

too bad

you want to be in the future

*******

time moves at whatever pace it pleases

and you have nothing to do about it

its like a train, there isnt even a bus driver to yell at

even worse the train moves at weird paces

sometimes its lightning fast

and other times its the slowest thing ever

most of the time for me its the slowest thing

because im done

but time says im not

im ready for kids and a family of my own that i love

but im not there yet

time wont let me be there yet
i feel like time is a cage that i cant escape. its one of my biggest struggles because the only way to fight it is to be patient and let it think its winning
Elmarie Apr 2017

Maybe we are all just pieces,
in the universe's unending puzzle.
Unending puzzle with unending moves.
Äŧül Apr 2017
Come, let us dance right now!
Hold my hand and put the other behind me!
You take one step backwards,
And then two steps forwards now!

Then I will repeat the same,
And I will let you lean back on my arms,
You do so with so much grace,
Such grace that even flowers blush.
My HP Poem #1499
©Atul Kaushal
Devin Ortiz Dec 2016
Down below, in the little mountain town
By the river the splits the east and west
I, heading out the door realize I'm far away
Sentiment hits at the liquor store
As hills once dead and brown
Have been reborn into lush greens
Realizing how much time has past
When I skipped through towns
Like a stone fighting to sink or swim
Things are different now, down below
In this little mountain town.
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