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Caesar 1d
Lean and tall
A gift from gods
Far and wide
The world is divided
Time travels on by
And soon enough
I touch the sky
Legs feel to long
Stand up and I feel like falling
If only the long legs to take me far away
Back to the old days
Yet we lay in bed
A cold casket and only fits me
The crescent moon greets me
Before shying away
And Although I brag
And it’s not to bad
The shock of standing up
And finding myself —- ft up
Is quite the shock
For my walls remember
Marked with small and long lines
A smaller me
And a far different me.
Bro i had like 48 poems and still I’m writing several currently, hoping there okay and posting them here because I’m bored. Enjoy
Caesar 1d
I’m a kid
I cry
Bicker
Yell but don’t I dare tell
Sob and beg you to stop
It’s not me your hurting
you promise with bitter words you won’t
You keep your promise
Yet break our family apart
I’m sorry to call you dad
You not even that
For blood we do not share
I can not even care
Your sweet
Kind
And oh so fake
Like many others
You indulge
And indulge
Alcohol driven
And although I was a kid
Young and naïve
And still I am
Although I hold invisible wrinkles
On this stained skin
One  like the beauty of stained glass
For stained glass I am
Only stained with raw blood and mud
And the green color of the glass from your beer bottles
Im am but a worn jacket
For in your eyes I am still your little girl
Although not a girl
And neither yours
For your hands hold me like horns carry soft petals
Holding up to shine and bath in light
Only for this flower to be drowned
As if you were the rain
Washing my garden away
My home keeps away
Far from my safe space
And although you shouted and yelled
I forgive and not tell
For the house hold the secrets
Even when it came crashing down.
But if you look closely I’m yet a rose healing
The storm has passed
And yet still barely
I bath in the soft sun
Drink in light spring showers
And I no longer drown.
More trauma stuff yada yada. Didn’t realize words flow so much easier when you can relate heavily to them. Enjoy
Caesar 1d
Eight mouths
Seven eyes
Two ears
Nine dimes
Bet on the devil
Sweet and horrible
Wearing a halo of horse skin
Trading daffodils
For a soul
Trading secrets for a dime
Thrown all but into a hole
Secrets climbs
Spilling out
scorching the skin as overflows
A cloth weaved of thorns
Peeved
Pricking and brushing my burns
Soft and buttered with lies
Sweet as chocolate
Smooth
Seemingly flows off your ‘8’ mouths
A moth to a flame
How to lie
Guilt ridden
Fleeing
Faster than a raccoon digging up trash
Caught chewing on its on lies
Walk the halls
Whispering
Eyes seem to never be the same
Color changing
Tears wilted
Rose plucked dry
Leaving only your thorns
Once beautiful
Broken and of so painful
Pain is mine now
To much of your own to handle
Overflowing and overbearing
Guilt ridden
I’ll flee too
Scared of overthinking
Overflowing
Injuring the garden around me
Messy poem, tired. More coming soon hopefully… this definitely ain’t another vent poem..
Caesar 1d
Shout
Scream
Pout and doubt
Beg and kneel and promise me it’ll change
From ages four and up and till I reached the 7th grade my life was a walking minefield
Dodging and  weeving around bullets
Thoughts bullets weren’t for me though
Yet they still grazed me
Scared me with the echo ringing through the battle field that was supposed to be my home
For the first I knew what it felt like to be scared
For the first time I went to sleep doubting why I was here
For the first time I heard you shout
You were supposed to be a gentle man
Not exactly a father but a step down
Guess that’s why they call them step fathers
But to my brothers whom were but your sons
The one you beated,
hit,
yelled at,
And I watched
Hearing him cry in pain
He was 16 yet scared of him as much as I am of you
I realized for the first time you weren’t what I thought
You were a haunting thought
Each threat and shout and door you left dented
Time spent in hotels rather than in the safety of my bed
Every time you called the police
And the threat to take away my only home
Guess it wasn’t my only home
Second
But it was second to best with you
You see
you treated me with gentleness
A kindness I’ll never forget
And today I still like to think of you as that man
The man before you turned into you
But you aren’t that man
You are what you are
A angry man
Drunken and confused
And oh so painfully sweet
I miss when I was three
Of dear god I wish it were me
I wish it were me you hit
It was me you shouted and yelled at
Cause god I’d have a reason to hate you If you did
Because I’m still painfully attached to you, even in the end.
This is based off some of not a whole lot of situations that played out through the ages 5 to 13 of my childhood. Please don’t judge if it’s poorly writen
Fly away black bird,
perhaps you’ll encounter a carcass
or someone kind
will offer it to you.
You’ll hide in the dry bushes with food,
Your black feathers will flutter in the wind,
satisfied and full,
your body
will heavily descend again to the ground.
Styles 1d
Your trust in us;
         makes me so *****
         it aches
         in a good way
         you take care of me
Caesar 1d
Late night calls
And I don’t mean with a phone to my ear
Listening to the dull voice on the other side
The whistle from deep within the forest
Calling to me
I wanna go where my roots call
Deep and embedded in the earth soil and soul
We’re rooted to the tile inside forgetting what it felt to hear the crunch of leaves beneath each step
The crickets chants we’ve forgotten how to listen to
The owl hoots and shoots us a glance
We’ll never spare second glance
The leaves tussle and Russel sharing secrets of the unknown
Beckoning and calling back to the woods tonight
Picking good poems Out of 48 I’ve written
Caesar 1d
Solar system
Powerful beyond dimensions
No Devine intervention stops it from turning
personally perfect and permanently indifferent
Rotating around the burning star
Endlessly orbiting surrounding with all its attention
Ain’t that something to mention!
Endless studies if not only about your one and only
ain’t that romantic
To be observed so intensely
That’s definitely hot
Something that got me burning brighter and hotter than any giant burning star
The center of your attention and your devotion
Just had fun with this one
I was simply singing,
watching red poppies
in the field,
thinking of nothing,
just remembering
the sea of my childhood,
as Banville does
in his book.
How pleasant it is,
even in winter,
to hear the murmur of the sea.
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