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My name is Geoff May 2017
A butterfly stays
in a king’s bush, laden
with blush roses—
an orphan of the garden.
Home of the yesteryear,
now thorn whips cracked
By old wardens.
Flee, you blossom flapping.
Flee, for your proboscis
seeks for sanctuary,
Not a casket.
Justin S Wampler Mar 2015
I drink beer 'cause I got
mad falling-down envy.
Thorogood once said:


"One bourbon,
one scotch,
and one beer."


.
Carsyn Smith Feb 2015
Suffocated by a web of a world that does not understand:
Words in my throat, caught like little flies struggling against the weave,
Emotions suppressed deep, encased in the widow's cocoon --
I am silenced, hidden under the surface.

Like a star, hope trickles down soft as a weak creak stream.
Light but dull, a beacon in an entire world of darkness;
Little ones walking will be the ones to watch it grow strong,
But I, a little fly, will die waiting for a light that is not for me.

This web is a cold and lonely prison,
I pray that, in this blackness, I am not alone
As I wait for more hearts to light the spark
That might burn away this web of a cage.
Shh… don't tell anyone but I wrote this for my friend's research paper. It's about Pride and Prejudice and the feminism undertones Jane Austen uses when writing. <3
Are we the ones, it got me thinking
Are we the ones, buried and sinking
Are we the ones, happy and singing

This generation, we are the ones
Making a difference, are we the ones?
We have a choice, we have our voice
ryn Aug 2014
What is this wall
That keeps us in
Over each other, we trip; we fall
We are like fish with no fins

Head on we crash
With fists we beat
We hack and we slash
Screaming, kicking with invisible feet

Blocked we remain
Let us flow
Us you can't contain
Let us go

Strengthened with aggregate
But held back by concrete
Cerebral wall with no gate
We're packed with angry grit

You know we're here
You feel us roiling
You hear us clear
Boiling and brewing

We understand the reason
You deem it necessary
Thinking it would lessen
Subdue the rage and fury

Your illusion of control
Of us, you'd pick the best
Surely you're taking the toll
Of being nothing but suppressed

All of us, we are you
We make you what you are
From the subtlest cue
To the high achieving star

We are many but we are one
Your thoughts and emotions
We are your loaded gun
We're the answer to false pretensions

You can't have us dammed
We've initiated a coup
No...we'll not be ******
Too late...we've broken through
matt Oct 2014
stress like the rest I’m trying to get something off my chest. its a weight so great my body begins to shatter all i want to do is yell but this weight is hell it pushes all the air from my lungs till they are bare. do you even care? are you even there? stress is the pain in my chest it feels like cardiac arrest i feel like i should be wearing a bullet proof vest because I’m wearing a red target on my chest. just something to aim at. stress is a mess with no clear way to clear a path without being cluttered by fear. it will bring tears, it will make you think of the ones you hold dear, stress is that weight on your chest making you feel oppressed. its something i deal with normally dont worry i dont repress. i paint it on this page with each move i make a digital valve releases letting you read this.
just a thingy i wrote in like 10 minutes
rachel Aug 2014
My mind is a prison
A cell that holds me
Locked inside
Oppressed
With no way out
Left to my own devices
Contemplating everything
This scares me

My mind is a vast field
Open and free
Beauty everywhere
In places you would least expect
Hope runs wild here
I run wild here
My heart is free
Freedom releases me

My mind is a black hole
Darkness
Deep and never ending
Swirling into nothing
It ***** me in
Never let's me go
And shrinks me down
Depressing me

My mind is a machine
Creating stories and strategies
Learning to love
Building
Structures rise from ashes
As I rise above the rest
And tell the world that it am here
That I am me

I am free.
Anastasia Braun Jun 2014
Stand tall
Stand proud
They tell us
But how can we stand at all?
When we have been beaten
And broken
And stripped of our identities.
The past is not
Just the past
It is our fears
And our memories.

This is a fight
For basic human rights
And we will not surrender.
Because love
Is about love
And not about
Gender.

We have to break this cycle
The cycle of hate
And the cycle of oppression
Because too many people
Have fallen victim
To depression.

Love is blind
Which makes society deaf
Unable to hear the pleas
Of the people who would rather
Choose death
Than live in fear
In fear of being who they are.

So stand up for what is right
Stand up for those who
Cannot stand for themselves
Those who feel they have
No voice.
What society must learn is that:

Ignorance is a choice

Who you love is not.
My first poem
Rochelle R Jun 2014
Led by delusion in blinders,
Stilled by shackles on my hands and silenced with a *******.
This life is lived locked on the wrong side of the bullet proof glass.
Half truths are the only truth.
Every coin, every story, has only one side.
The path before, and for miles behind me, is filled with glass and burning coals.
My mind is free, but what point does it serve?
My auto biography is a lie, redacted by the masters of the universe.
This is my world.
This catatonic existence is self made.
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