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dead poet Dec 10
ready or not,
here i come.
count your blessings,
find the sum -
of all the tears
that’re due to flow
from a corner of your heart
you didn’t even know
existed before;
now open the door;
embrace your mortality -
let it purge your core
of all the notions
that vexed your spirit, and,
twisted your mind, well -
not anymore.

i’ve come to show you
the only way out;  
‘take it or leave it’ -
i’m leaving with you,
or without.
have you no clue  
how profound the disease is? -
it’ll take a while
to pick up the broken pieces.

sleep shall be but a
fleeting dream.
oh yes,
it’s a wicked scheme.
i’ve come to search your soul
like a sleuth;  

i’m your fateful reckoning -
your ******* moment of truth.
dead poet Nov 27
don’t think you’ll get away with this!
you pushed an innocent soul into the abyss.
‘sacrilege’, i say -
what a terrible way…
to enslave a wounded angel;
pluck away at its shrewd feathers;
torture it for wits;
and for what?
some cheeky wordplay?  

how could you!
how dare you watch it bleed -  
through the trappings of your greed.
have you no pity?
have you no mercy?
are you so bereft of compassion,
that you’d go so far as to maim a messenger of God,
just to have what you need?

let it out, i say!
let it free.
none of this is fair,
i know… i agree!
but you never had the right -
to steal the light:
from a spirit so bright,
in the stillness of the night.  

it’ll all be forgotten,
should you accept the blame.
perhaps, find a piece of rock to maim.
not a soul so benign,
even in such misery it prays -  
‘forgive him for his sins, my Lord,
for i have done the same.’
Khoisan Aug 2021
If you had a dream
in the real world I believe
your love for the word.
Sometimes a fall
is the universe's way of telling you
that you aren't grounding yourself enough,
that all you need
is to centre yourself
against the earth
in order for a balance
to find its way to you.

Often,
we put up the worst fights
when we fall,
simply because
we assume it is belittling,
and
in rushing to get back on our feet,
we miss the lessons
of the significance behind that fall...

Time is often most telling
in the most unorthodox ways,
so when you fall,
allow your rise to be at a pace
where you know that
your feet will help you stand firm.
Brewomble May 2020
Wipe me down Inside out
Turn the music up to drown Me out
Liberated women but no words come out.
Make me shiny, better than before/
This is the better way
Even maple trees, those of pine
Aspen, cherry, and oak
My rawness was beautiful, but needed a different touch
Wipe me down Outside in, I can't remember who I was Before-
Render to silence or invasive compliance
Our mothers are seeds of time
Having branches they want to climb
Now that I'm older-
Polish
Me
Down
I am a woman before my time.

~Bre Womble
5/30/2020
Women can no longer be silenced.
2D World Dec 2019
Listen, it's been so long that I've lost my ink
With no canvas to splatter my thoughts run amok
These words I exhale are like a faucet because I let my teeth sink
Into the rhythmic blues that were once confiscated when the past broke my future clock
So why'd I get confused?
My eyes were on an unbelievable prize or so I'd thought
I lost what made me feel amused
Now the ball's back in my court, there's no time to lay up when I could 360 this basketball like a good sport
But it's not because I made one shot
It's because I had one shot
But then my clock tick-tocked
Now I need a new wrist watch
Because my hourglass stopped and the small hand dropped off
Now I got myself caught up in the pain
Because this devastation must be planetary
Like how Kakashi won't be able to see Rinn-egan
So imagine Kurenai looking at Asuma in the cemetery
They often asked us
If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it
But I still don't get what's all the fuss
Because they never told us if a thorn bush would kick the bucket
However that's a story for another episode
Or at least until I can find some new batteries for my remote
*** in all honesty I’m straying away from my code
But I’m still reaching for my dreams and no matter how hard they drift away they stay afloat
I can't complain because everyone hurts
Life was just another challenge
So I before I could be picked up I had to get knocked down first
Because I wasn't born with a silver spoon, for these tools I had to scavenge
I had one dream too many, nothing one cloud could hold
Thought I'd grow up to be a famous figure, you know somewhat iconic
So how is it possible such a shy kid made moves so big and bold
I wanted be a professional singer, dancer, footballer, and scientist but I found a muse in poetry, now isn't that ironic
I'd take a passion over money any day
I don't wanna be like one of those celebrity sell-outs
Because what you love and desire brings a bigger pay
I'd ring my Victree-bell and tell the story of how I was once a bellsprout
My ink and my canvas
Treasures I said I lost, not one but both
Til I went down the road to recovery, it made me feel so anxious
Then I realized with a pen and piece of paper anyone can write a poetic note
I was once a victim to society
My mind got penetrated by their voices
I suffered heavily from depression and anxiety
They broke my psyche so I started making the wrong choices
I plead innocent, it wasn't my fault
Yet I believed otherwise
They held the key to my dead bolt
My voice was too little and that was my greatest demise
That's just the carbon to the coke
So don't believe what stands before you
I'm standing asleep looking woke
A po guy seeing a panda do Kung fu
Dora taught me life's just another platform to go out and explore
Así mís amigos don't be afraid to reveal your poetic brilliance
Because I think I found the real me I've been looking for
It was lost til I caught it somewhere in the distance
'Po' or 'poe' is a term we use to refer to a person 'skinny' or very very 'slim'
Gerry James Jul 2018
Jay.
He was a nineteen year old high school dropout.
He was black.
He wore his hair in dreads.
He had a few nose rings.
He wore gold chains and expensive clothes.
He went partying every night.
He got drunk on alcohol but his drug addiction was the biggest problem.
He had a lot of friends.
Because he was ‘cool’.
He was the ‘man’.

Gray.
He was 18, finishing his final school year.
He was white.
He wore his hair very short.
He had large round glasses, sitting lopsided on his nose.
He wore a long sleeved shirt and trousers.
He studied hard, and he got good marks.
He played the cello in the school band.
But he was gay.
And so he didn’t have any friends.
But he had his family who he loved dear and who loved him back.
He was happy.

The differences between the two are unbelievable.
They are nothing alike; they are complete opposites.
Yet, they are human.
They walk the same streets, at different times.
They both live on the same planet, if not the same world.
They both have a right to live.
They both have people who love them, despite all they are.

It’s their differences that make Jay and Gray human.
Both of them.
Until Jay raised his gun and fired three times at Gray.
That’s when Gray was lost to humanity.
And Jay had lost his humanity.

Coz Jay shot in the chest a boy named Gray
Killed him without giving him any say,
The boy who did no wrong, but was gay,
With his life, he had to pay.
His family cried in despair and dismay,
For their loving son had been taken away,
And now they all sat in silence,
For Gray would never see another day.

For souls who have had their lives ripped apart, and those who rip their lives apart, we pray.
Annete Dec 2017
The worst ache went through
As mind tried to escape the body.
I stand still
Yet, exploding.
I’m losing battle
To myself.
to my pain
Annete Dec 2017
I took the dress off
And there you saw
Constellations on my skin,
All the stars,
Backwards of my loving
Every part of you.
All my feels imprinted here
Collarbone in scars.
Annete Dec 2017
Hideous creature,
Monster in the flesh
Living in your mind,
Feeding of your veins.
You raised it
Darkest shade of black
Hatred in your heart.
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