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A ringing in my ear
The soft cry of children
My innocence slaughtered
Where did time go

I lay here awake
Aware of the mess
Who dragged me from my bed?
My fists are cut and ******
And the bottle lay empty
Another night out?
Butchered tree in my pocket
There’s more to it than this

An endless road lie yonder
The heat waves friendly
I see you but hear nothing
I don’t wave back

Another left behind
Learning new ways to walk
Have we forgotten how to live?
Worshiping false idols
Media is a speedy vehicle
Inebriated driver behind the wheel
The minds of the masses
A thirst never quenched

I laugh as I know
And wander off the road
I think I found a new place to go
The land of maize
But I’m not lost

I have no place to be
Do you?


-AJT
The new place one finds amidst the chaos of society can either be physical or mental
Abby M Dec 2018
I'm glad I live in an average place
So that I can keep my breath
Who cares about the lack of sights
If my lungs keep me from death
And sure it's not quite pretty
But there's certainly some charm
To back up quiet living
Without tracheal alarm
Vanessa Dec 2018
In this sacred place
Within me
Are the eyes I never knew
The wiser version of me
The temple of my soul
Watching over me
Painting out my path
Of who I am
Calling out my name
And who am I?
“Warrior”
Zywa Nov 2018
In the bend of the brook

my mind sinks away
between sun spots of gliding
water and suspended shades

of green. Nothing is floating
against the current. Under
the water level, I feel

space for secrets
shelters of what
will be the future, maybe

My friends light candles
and will talk on the way back
about the boys on the benches

but I prefer to sit quietly
under the sacred oak trees
in the bend of the brook
Chapel the Sacred Oak on the Beerze
(in 1400 the statue of Mary was stolen from the oak, but it drifted back upstream)

Collection “Webgarden”
Bryce Nov 2018
She had shown to me,
Aurora
Aurora sweet alighted
the excited verdant ions
a scar of atmosphere
the mantle undivided
to give as sacrifice
to give life to snow

Ye not tempt me with it
Burden of beauty
of foggy things in my dreams
at fancy ballroom mirages

Indifference,
to be found in the refrigerated drink section
outside the air is cold and cools oil on gravel
while across town the burning embers of a home
melt the snow into rivers

The fog of dew on the leaves
drunk, speak the lips of the slain
to look up into the blue
and find solace in the rains.
Siddhali Doshi Nov 2018
'Happier place' they call it
What is this place?
Is it pretty?
Or is it just a phase of life?

Happiness comes in waves they say
High tide or the low tide?
I do not understand this phrase
But I know it fades

Peace. What does that have to do with happiness?
They say happiness is peace
Okay then. I'll be calm.
Calmer, like the dead sea
And then will I be happy?

All these questions
But still a failure to understand happiness
Just quotes and sayings
And people calling their spaces happy

Where do I look?
But before, how do I measure?
Maybe I am happy
But dare I say I am not
Baqir Talpur Nov 2018
Let’s defy these scientific rules for a minute
And immobilize this systematic reality.
Lets make our own personal route
Towards a surreal land, just like fantasy

A place where i could stretch my arm and grab a star
A place where you could sit by my side, holding a jar.

Where we could put them in jar and keep it under the moon.
Then listen to their sweet, soothing and mellow tune.

Where we could make anything from their glowing dust.
Or use them to fullfil our wishes, if we must.

A place where we could be together for *****.
Only if we could defy scientific rules for once.
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