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Marla Apr 25
We used to be the kind of friends
Who'd ask each other questions
So that we can try and pretend
Our lives weren't so sad,

But then you left and became someone else,
A hollowed out Gatsby with pathetic tendencies.
I'd be ashamed if I had known you more myself,
Yet you'd always keep your feelings away from me.

Now we've departed and gone our own ways,
Though I reminisce about you most days.
I wish you hadn't gone and stayed in your pain,
Maybe then we'd be friends till old age.
Alex Smith Mar 26
Racing through life
On tracks like train cars.
But we move too fast
To appreciate the now,
Now.
An alternate title: Metra fare
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2018
~for she who knows whom I mean~

do not beg to differ
just do

she is progressing true,
but the process is foretold
three generations of tracks
the line is map drawn

she and the generations before
and the generations to follow are
a work in process

the process is forever foretold
the genes are in control


do you ken the difference?
do you ken the compliment?
and the complement...clear
mother daughter mother
Fallert May 2018
Every time I look up,
The clouds will block my sight.
Every time I raise my arms,
Shackles hold me tight.
They keep me to the ground,
With a fierce and gruesome might.
And as I glance at my surroundings,
I know this isn’t right.

They say that hope will help you,
Save you from drowning in the sea.
But still the arms will wrap me up,
Laugh as they listen to my plea.
I’ll have freedom in my palm,
Then trip and drop the key.
And as I try to escape myself,
I know no one’s saving me.

As I sit at the desk I’m writing,
With the blood from my own veins.
My hands will remain shackled,
Still weighed down by the chains.
But I’m fighting, and I’m trying,
Whistles blowing from the trains.
I’m not screaming, I’m not crying,
Run away from all the pains.

While sitting in the corner,
Lifting up my aching hand,
I think about the people,
Standing outside, as they planned.
This is my new place now,
Suppose this my home land,
I can still see liberty,
But I’m sinking in the sand,
Stuck inside my own mind,
They’ll never understand.
Yanamari Feb 2016
Day passes on to night,
Night passes on to day,
Every second that passes
Witnesses my heart's decay.

My heart lost in its previous agony
Sheds tears of sedation,
Numbing its own passions,
To forget its almost amputation.

My heart has suffered many losses,
So my brain continually consoles it,
My soul now conflicted,
As to how they should together truly fit.

My heart and mind have lost their balance,
Lost their ability to function and thrive,
Together as a partnership,
Under the observance of my soul's derive.

— The End —