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Weathered and ragged and flaking away,
Ageless, majestic, for day after day,
Haven for robins and the honeybee,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.

A suit of cracked armor letting rain in,
Lifeless and cold, hardened like calloused skin,
Home and shelter where squirrels can flee,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.

Vestigial barrier to bygone rings,
Same as it’s been, now for so many springs,
All that is left of its great pedigree,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.

A trunk withered down and dead from inside,
That empty space, where owls now reside,
Inside those walls there’s still reason to be,
This is the bark of an old hollow tree.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
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Arcassin B Oct 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

What do you truly inspire,
buildings caught on fire,
looking for a purpose in this life but it'll just expire,
sitting here in all 50 states that's corrupted and dire,
telling you these products will help you , they're a bunch of liars,
other countries dying for the truth and hope that they've lost,
encountering villains with no faces , do they have a boss?
if your black , they have plans for you to die and get tossed,
try to sway the weak and break the strong , pray you don't get soft.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/10/truly-inspired.html
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
Sending all signals they possess the soul
Feel a jolt from clouds of lightning

This is all true I know
They have taken my soul

Replaced by something new
Just to get a new aspect view

Free the eternal soul within me
Not a question of why or what is with this

Songs I sing can not be replaced
The thought of that can not be erased

Things these days have no means to an end
I hope that someday there will be a another message I can send

Feeling the pressure I release a gift that will surface
Hoping someday something new will serve it’s purpose

They all confused me
Confounded because my talent is not lazy

Help me survive where I want to be
Because they all diluted me
Aditya Oct 2018
I closed my eyes,
a faith so blind,
a voodoo doll to exercise,
scarred by a spell,
who am I? do remind
Star BG Oct 2018
Lying in bed, I shift my vehicle
into new day. A day that is blessed
by rising sun.

Feet become wheels, spinning in dance gracefully.
Skin is cleansed in carwash-like shower
that tickles to birth smile.

Moments captured in suns rays vibrate,
as gyrating beams flicker
and penetrate cells.

Air infused intentions
rise in thoughts expanding
to merge with gas-like breath.

Blessings surface, as guidance
from navigational system of heart
purrs, gracefully.
  
Brum, ***! echoes,
merging with days landscape,
as dance commences.

Brum, ***! fills air
as compassion toward others
becomes goal.
      
In instant, hands folded
on steering wheel of prayer
anchor, as gratitude fills thoughts.

As wind pervades senses
and birds sing on welcome mat
of ears woven by hair.

The day has begun in celebration,
while cruse controlled movements
connect to surroundings.

While alignment is made
to source as freedom bell rings
inside waking hours.

I’m blessed, ready to shift gears
inside unlimited possibilities
on highway of life.

Blessed to rondevu with light  
for peace, while fuel of love energies
congeal with purpose.

Purpose to make the best
of the gift of life given
in a vehicle anointed by God.
Morgan Mercury Oct 2018
Women crave for a rebirth
and I am no exception.
I crave to hear a choir and feel the water rush over me,
leaving me with a sense of purpose and a new perspective.
I want to forget my name.
I want to see my life in a new light.
I feel it's time for me to leave my body and leave my past.
It's time for me to find my mind
because I know that it must get better than this.

So let me grow,
I believe that it does get better than this.
I have seen many women learn how to scream their own name,
over and over and over and over again.
Howling into the clouds and radiate like the sun,
and I start to wonder when my time will come.
However, I know I must learn to grow steady like the harvest
because I know rebirth is not a path that we can rush down
2018
georgia sophie Oct 2018
this life is not what it seems
we are nothing but flesh and blood
poets and writers and storytellers
liars and cheats and frauds
pick and choose your destiny
redefine your purpose
you are more than you know
Cherry Oct 2018
I remember when I was a child I disliked reading books , mostly all of them . They all had a specific ending it could be happy or sad and sometimes something in between. Somehow  I knew that I could never read the words writen in my heart by someone elses pen  so unknowingly I started writing. I started writing as what a normal child would have to, when he starts to dream and imagine about all the things that one wants and desires and everything one knows he could be. I started writing in the blank page of life . I wrote my desires my ideals my character my adventures and everything else I thought I needed my life to be about. Pages full of happines, memories , mistakes and terrible regrets. All my darkest desires ,darkest secrets my best and worst qualities. Since I was a child the only thing I didn't give importance was time , time was passing fast right before my eyes into the words I was writing on that blank page . I never stood still to realise that until now .  My life was turning into my worst nightmare filled only with paranoia and fears. I never realised that getting so hooked into what you want life to be and what it actually is would turn my reality upside down and realised I was living in a lie that I was writing . As I was stading alone in the dark yesterday I woke up . The page I started to write since I was a child run out of all empty spaces , I dont know how old I was back than but now I'm 21 and the worst thing is that I realised that I'm one of those humans helplessly stupid and I've wasted so much time rewriting and correcting on that blank page everything that I thought was wrong and now my blank page looked like the messy adventurous confusion I wanted my life to be. Today I woke up and I  had a new page to write on and I've only writed four sentences  the only four sentences I decided to keep as a treasure from my life
as far as today.
To desire is to dream
To dream is to want
to want is to do
And to do is to live.
(Write artfully)
Don't let words of the past scream at you hysterically in  angry crying voice .
Brendon Khore Sep 2018
I die inside every time I fake a smile
Gather my torn apart pride
Pretending I don't cry myself to sleep
Every night
Can't cope can't deal
Mental walls are closing in voices echoing
Within, what's the point of breathing
Heart lost it's function no longer knows
How to love became corrupted hate is the
Only thing coming out
Burden of pain has become too heavy to bare
If I fall I am not  coming back up
When it mattered only you cared
But I am not strong enough
I wish I could say that I will survive
But I don't think am coming out of this alive
Brendon Khore Sep 2018
Days come and go and i am watching
My life passing by before my very eyes
A rose wilting before its prime
For a long time waiting for rays of sunshine
Not a single beam of light in sight
Am I blind or in darkness? Have I lost my mind to
The point that I no longer have perception of my senses?
Happiness eludes me like a distant memory
Trying to pursue it I become my worst enemy
I no longer have the strength or energy to fake
A smile and pretend that everything is fine
My life is not sunshine and rainbows its dark skies
And thunderstorms
I am cold lost and alone
Its weighs heavily on my soul wandering aimlessly
Like its a biological necessity I am suppose to have a destiny
The point of my existence is a great mystery
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