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Run. Run. Run
Here they come
The rampant dogs
Ready to rip off
People's skin.

Another ****** forgotten
Another person in their coffin
For just living in their skin
There's no way to win
Against supremacy.

What's next? Another Holocaust?
Another mass-genocide lost
In the media? In history books?
Because if this is how my future looks,
I don't want to live through it.

This is why we must stand up now
Before the dogs and sirens get too loud
We can't travel back in time, not like this
For there is so much good we'll miss
Unless we protest the injustices

Plaguing our society.
I just felt like writing a poem about all the things happening in our society today. Dealing with racism and supremacy.
I created myself,
To **** myself.
What fun!
He looks through me like I’m nothing
I can still feel his hands
On my thighs
his warm breath on my ear
The cold glass of the window against my *******

I can still see the dirt under my nails that I scrubbed so hard to remove
But it stuck like a bad memory

I wish I hadn’t gone to him that night
But he was so kind
I fell into the trap that he set for me

I watch him in the station
Lying as they ask him questions
And they believe every word he says

He gets up to leave
Smiling as he shakes hands with the detective

I stand in front of him begging him to see me
To see what he did to me

The smile on his face doesn't leave
He walks right through me
Leaving the police station and his memory of me behind

Snow starts to fall
Laying softly on the dead grass
Giving it new life
I watch the sky lay down a blanket of white
Covering everything from the past

                                                         I can still feel my hands on her thighs
                                                                              Her blond hair in my face

                                                                                               I get up to leave
                                                    Shaking hands with the detective as I go

                                                                          A chill goes down my spine
                                                          I feel a coldness go through my body
                                                                     Outside the snow begins to fall
                                                                     A smile spreads across my face
                                                                                                Snow covers all

Flowers fill every corner of my room
And photographs of me sit outside the house
Lit by candles
I’m stuck in this town

                                   I watch them lower an empty casket into the earth
                                                       Her mother's face glistening with tears
                                                                         Everyones here to remember
                                      I stand in the back hiding amongst a sea of black

                                          Tears fall from faces that have never seen hers
                                                           I feel taken over by a freezing breeze
                                                              That seems to only be affecting me

They lower my casket into the earth
Missing my lost body
The dark wood glistens in the sun
My mother stands frozen tears running down her face
Everyones here to forget me
I see him standing there amongst a sea of black
Hiding behind people I have never met

I stand behind him willing him to turn around
Forcing myself through his body to see his face

Look at me
Look what you did
Look me in the eyes

                                                                                  And suddenly I see her
                                                                                       Something so unreal
                                                    She's in the same clothes from that night
                                                                                      Her neck still bruised
                                                                               In the shape of my hands

                                                                                                            I’m done
                                                                My heart beats louder and louder
                                                                                     I head straight for her
He leaves
Heading for me  
I follow him
But I’m not the only one

They found my body
With his fingerprints covering my skin
                                                                                                   I see her body
                                                                              Covered in dirt and snow
                                                                There are people surrounding her

He sees what used to be me
The look of fear in his eyes
As he clenches his knuckles
                                                                                                                   I run
                                           I don’t know where but I end up at her house
                                                      She's in my head and I can’t get her out
                                                                         My heart is beating too loud
                                                                         Her voice is screaming at me
                                                                                     Everything is moving
                                                                      I run to the safety of my house
                             Everything has gotten louder there is no more silence
                                                                                                      I can’t think
                                                                                                          I can’t see
                                                                                  I just know I have to go
                                                Once they find the marks left by my hands
                                                                                            They will take me
He runs
To my house a look of confusion sets on his face
He clutches his head
And begins to run again back to his home
He’s shaking
Covering his ears
I see his eyes
It’s not him
It’s the monster that took me
He’s snapped like a worn out rubber band

                                                                                                                 I can’t
                The voice in my head is louder and it's not just hers anymore
                                       My heart is beating too loud adding to the noise
                                                                                 I won't let them take me
                                                                              Noise consumes my head
                                                                       And my chair hits the ground

He’s gone
His chair lays on the ground
His feet hang right above

I’m free
And he's gone
wrote this for my writing class trigger warning
kiran goswami May 18
There was a ****** in my nation today,
There was a ****** in my nation yesterday.
But unlike the other time, my nation did not cry.
It did not bang the doors of justice,
My nation did not try.
The criminals sat on thrones and proved themselves innocent.
The innocent became guilty as they had only a few pennies and no more cent.
I did not see people cry,
I did not hear the pain
I did read the news where they said, 'The murderer fled by a train.'
I could not see the people hugging,
I could not see love,
but in my nation, I saw a dead, white-feathered dove.
The peace in my nation died,
the girl in my nation died.
The people in power laughed while the nation cried.
I saw the flag of my nation but all I saw was white.
I saw my nation's condition
but all I could do was to write.
So, I will tell you how there was a ****** in my nation yesterday,
and there was a ****** in my nation today.
Poetic T May 17
When the hands motion words silent,
                               but full of forlorn grief.

They cry for love that was muted,
    but looks are glazed
   as there last breath whimpered silently.

And the words dead to ears,
                        "I love you,

As they walk out the door,
                                  crying at there loss.
Poetic T May 17
A kiss given when
                  the lips are


I stare into there void less  eyes,
           but my touch is warm.
Far May 17
A sweet melancholy, the drift of fingers across the numerous ivory keys, glimmers of light enhancing his vision. His dream, longing for sweet release. Yet for how long may he covet his desires? His hands brush each key gently, the gradual extension and pull of the strings. Producing notes bitter in nature, seeping into his ears like the virtuous maiden of the south.

Brazil is wonderful, is it not? Rio may be one of the most travel-worthy destinations..
Though it may be, quite wild. It screams out joy and bright colors, truly exciting for one who wishes to bathe in rainbows.

Rainbows? Colors? What a travesty.. all he saw ahead was grey roads, his grey horse running amok, the screams coming from the shed as his daughter was brutally murdered, but may his keys paint such a vivid picture? Music, in composition may translate to art. Could you get colors from the notes of a piano?

Each gentle breath, his posture all determined his creations. A clumsy but subtle technician, his thoughts may or may not have included his daughter. Her memories live within him, his only thought as he plays his keys, accelerating and decelerating at a magnificent pace was:

A word-painting of desire and tranquil music.
Michelle May 10
Sorry, Momma,
I am not coming home tonight.
Not to my wife,
Not to my kids,
Not to the love of life that I hid
In my bedside drawer.

Sorry, Momma,
I am not coming home tonight.
Not to the sun,
Not to the moon,
Not to birds calling morning so soon.

Sorry, Momma,
I am not coming home tonight.
I was shot,
In the spot,
Where the sun meets the ground.
I was homeward bound.
But I am not returning to you,
I am not returning home-
Nigdaw May 8
we are all accomplices
the plate cannot lie
something murdered casually
so we can finely dine
oozing still the blood
that once coursed it's veins
a rare and gruesome pallet
enjoyed with chips and peas

yet we pet the dog
call him companion and friend
invited into the family
like a furry surrogate child
stroke the cat on our evening lap
cooing and talking
like they understand
they have the protection of PET

otherwise we'd be cuddling a snack
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