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A local house of music and dance, a sharing means
That has the time, to look and see you will be

A promise on top of a hill
Waiting on the first, to live better
Than causes question, the anger of misery still
But to know a faring friend, in scope and letter...

Sweet, goodness
The favors of proper sunshine
To tell a different story than mercy in legend, do attest
The coming hope we due, to liberty, has the voice of time

Picking the best, the wages of a windy day
To these, there is a lived few, fury in the known
Has begun here, to truthful many and their save
We are cares in the needs of more, than a virtue to lonely, come

Sameness, guidance
Welcome to the home of sense, a heed to collect ours
That has the silence for a moment's reward, to advance
We know you, the measure of simplicity to fend for ideal powers

So tender, so without pain
Of remembered gestures and vexes, that seem to be
The fate of anarchy said, the wishes we tell were all of same
All of shared names and the told season of fame, that is our such's lead
Benevolence, Ambivalence, Deliverance, and shadows of home with a unity of more than strangers to worry
Filomena May 2023
I've recently been told
That music's for the bold
And performance represents
A simple flow of confidence

While I think that's good to know
I think there's more to music's glow
Cause when I put my pen to paper
I want me to be the shaper

I aspire to hone my craft
And not come off as over-daft
But my music is my art
Communication from the heart

And that calls consideration
Of musicians' motivation
Cause when you stand up on the stage
It's true the listener's the gauge

Of if your music is worthwhile
Or should be thrown into the pile
So overall it's just a balance
Of one's skill, but also talent

So at the ending of the day,
The final thing I'd like to say

A is for Adam
Atoms are for art
I'll write like a free radical
But on stage I'll play the part
Reuben F Apr 2021
Who's wearing sundays
Songs jejune peruses;
May her corsage roses
Dress the fine arrays!

And gathered 'round strays,
Each of them amuses
Their eyes with their noses
For depots off ways.

The fantastic plays
Out of them her bruises;
Songs fed by drunk proses
May enchant in rays!
Lee Carter Jan 2021
When one forces their imagined shape to fit in,

They discover- often too late,

That they may now be stuck.
alyssum withers Dec 2020
i want to float amongst the stars
and feel the ache of loneliness
that comes with beauty
Carina Apr 2020
dear society:
why do you proclaim
ignorance is an easy
passage to popularity
jealousy is how to earn respect
tearing eachother down is
how to succeed
and caring takes you
on a route to failure
how does this establish
humanity when it is almost
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2020
Man-made phenomena
litters the sky,
these satellites orbit themselves
--celestial magnets
befriending the galaxy.

Eccentric hours of
the day and night
lend themselves to the after party,
where the girls run in spirals,
the boys just taper off,
it’s a strange side effect
to all the confection and confetti
--an interstellar jackpot
with all the quirks!

There’s no moon out of reach
to bury one’s flag in to
or hang a quote from,
no riddle wisenheimers can't
complacently decipher.

As missions go this is prime
and far too lucrative
when the star machine
starts throwing back from
the electronic heavens,
shooting them off
in such bizarre bans
of incensed fire,
a sure reflection of fireworks
against the artificial currents
of this drug.

There’s no catching
these shooting stars
lightyears from here,
but if you ask nice,
they just might send you a selfie
the next time
your trajectories coincide.
Inspired by the surreal art of Justin Peters.
Mitch Prax Feb 2020
Why do I still crave
validation from people
who I've never met?

7:10 PM
Andreya Celeste Jan 2020
You're the greatest one here, and everyone knows.
The best people stay, the bad ones go.
You constantly remind us about your strength,
your list goes on, far in length.
The rest of us are rocks in your road.
But you've kicked us away, and there you strode.
We've been below you since that day.
But you don't care about us anyway.
You're the queen of the hill, the rest of us ants.
Crown on your head, you always enchant.
You're bigger and better, the rest of us small.
We mean nothing to you at all.
Maybe it's okay that we fit in the cracks.
Go back on the road, and here we'll backtrack.
I don't need to trample like you.
Kings and queens are overthrown too.
Max Neumann Nov 2019
manager demanded: write
for all of 'em

conscience claimed: write

yesterday time
stopped passing by
yesterday i
floated above the
hudson river

grand mansions
polished shores


the pillage started when
scavengers pillaged

don't get me wrong you
get me?
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