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Matthew Nov 2019
to be an original
I am human a genetic pattern
for the future of the past
I am the present to all tomorrow's
I would like to be an original 

a unicorn poet, the one and only 
finding meaning to the words
left discarded like trash 
in literature's cracks

creating a full meal from scratch 
sweeping up the crumbs
for intellect to snack 
thoughts out of bound
no throne or crown

a new way to show you to the door
to let the metaphors fly
free to soar from sorrows pity
the fools self-inflicted broken heart

mythical and wise
to bring insight to the inner peace 
of man, beast, and machine
to no longer hear the war cry


to bring the dawn of possible dreams
a ladder to the bridge,
to the next evolution of life
to give to you not ask of you
a place to sit and absorb our universe
Julia Supernault Nov 2019
Oh kindred one, how strange that the world wants you to be kind but when you think about it, has the world ever been kind to you?


I didn't think so, but, however, please don't stop being another soul in this universe that we do not deserve but desperately need.
Christina O Nov 2019
On wobbly feet
and shaky breath,
these words are so hard to find.
No one knows what’s going on in that space up there.
You fall once,
maybe twice,
and all they do is watch as you get back up again.  
No lending hand.
Just eyes turning away.
You’re struggling.
And for once you wish someone would finally give a ****.
Mark Wanless Nov 2019
compassion one step
at a time
the answer
Allyssa Nov 2019
I lay in bed beneath your body,
Panting and exposed,
Your hands created tremors,
Shaking legs and quavering moans.
Your lips were soft on mine,
Hearts fluttering fast,
Heated passionate kisses,
Tangled hair and messy sheets.
Bodies tangled,
Heavy breathing,
Knotted up hair,
Hickey peppered skin.
You said unto me,
Fingers buried in my skin,
My hair covering our faces,
Our foreheads pressed together.
“I will love you forever.”
We were one person,
One moment,
One soul.
We shared the oxygen that lingered between us,
Love poured from heavy weight of our need,
Our want.
We were done for and for once,
I was perfectly fine with his lingering touch on my body.
These bed sheets are mine and his hands felt like home
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