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Fantasies and dreams,
lollipops
and queens.
Happiness and love are
the only things that
can be seen.
Somewhere out there are my dreams.
Now I just
have to go after them with
a scheme.
I have no idea on what to title this poem. If you have any suggestions, please comment and I will take it into consideration.
In our day and age, our kings and queens have gone into hiding.
Our emperor's, fly from sky-top to sky-top, hidden by mile-wide clocks and daggers
In our day and age. Power rides the four horsemen at night,
They no longer slither on the ground, but roar in the wisp-o-willow of the night.
Power is played with its greatest device; ignorance in a haystack of knowledge.
Amelia Jan 16
You've spent so many hours,
So many days, wasting your time and tears
On a different kind of idiot.

You doubted yourself
And hated yourself
Because your father
Didn't cherish you.

It's time for the pain to stop.
It's time for you to realize
How amazing you are.
It's time for you to stop being a victim,
And start being a fighter.

Show him how wrong he is.
Showcase all of the fantastic things that you do.
Make him regret pushing you down.
Make him jealous of the people in your life.
Make him wish he would have stayed.

Let go of the broken little girl,
And make way for the strong queen
That you have become.

Dry the tears on your cheeks
And make room for the smiles
That will appear.

Give yourself the love
That he didn't give you.

Some may think it's arrogance,
Others, confidence...

But you will know that what you
Allow the world to see
Is strength.
This is the final part of a poem that I am extremely proud of. Parts 1 and 2 are on my profile, and I hope you enjoy them as well. Thank you for reading!
Brooke White Jan 12
Right off of the 7 train,
Irish Catholic schoolgirls spilling
out of Jahn's like marbles
Their plaid skirts against exposed brick
bellies full of kitchen sink

The produce stand next door
eggs .60 a dozen, milk one dollar
Now converted into a bodega
or maybe even a small
Muslim prayer room

I bought my first album
at a record store on 82nd
The brown paper bags, thin as bible pages
It spun on the Victrola in my
parents' Tudor

The yellowing wallpaper smelled of
my mom's Virginia Slims
And sounded of my dad's Vermouth
His own liver fried
with onions, just as he liked it
kiran goswami Dec 2018
And in this world full of
Princesses
and
Queens,
I am a Wonder Woman.
M-E Nov 2018
The Queen in castle
Surrounded by an army
Men of styrofoam

The army floated in tears
Hovered in the sky, at her sigh
Still, they had the guts
Hit her in the eye

If The Queen is broken
So it will be her army
Men of styrofoam
Fragile and breakable
To every female blooming in a dark garden
Harry Roberts Oct 2018
My Mouth Is So Wet Yes I'm Salivating,
Towards The Queens Honey We're Gravitating,
We're So Close Feel That Heat On Your Face,
The Truth Is Morose Because They'll Take Your Place.

One Will Fall Down So That Others Can Rise,
Others Throw Stones Just To Quicken The Ride,
But Their The Same Ones Filling Churches With Cries,
Their The Same Ones Feeling Wholesome Inside.

They Will Line Up To Mourn With Fake Tears,
From The Cradle To Kissing Coffins With Snake Sneers,
They Will Line Up To Ensure That You're Dead,
Covering Smiles Their Faces Like Lead.

Millions Ravaging Bones,
Smarter Ones Fight Over Thrones,
Ashes Still Warm When The Crowns Over Thrown,
Death Rolls In Graves At The Seeds We Have Sown.
Harry Roberts - Queens © 24/10/18
Pat Villaceran Oct 2018
She's queen of the desert,
peasant of the land
At night when the wolf howls,
she'd be Mother of Nile

At times when the heat kills
She fought for the light
A warrior in darkness, the
hope of the man

Her strength is as fiery
As the madman's eyes
that the Concord dictates
she's the beast immortal

Nobody thought to challenge
her reign, nor tried
to understand how
her plans were made

But everyone envies
to the core of their hearts
Some even sided
with devils' betrayal

Everyone wonders how
she got her Crown
Who made it possible
her defeating these odds

Nobody knew she's but
a ***** in the wars
the one that smells,
with the bruises and the scars

No one knew her pirate
woes. The solitude
and the silent crows

But those moorish
Nights that saw it all
They took the pain, the screams
The fall

The academe & politicos
knew her too
Asked why'd she disappear
too far, too soon?

What's curious is that
she didn't know at
all, the lives she lived
had made her whole

It was probably fate or God
or faith, but she lives
the lives of her
seven tales
Pat Villaceran. All rights reserved. © 2018.
Rabbit Sep 2018
The true essence of a woman
has never truly been understood
From the Spanish demolishing our cultures
to the way that they are viewed and treated in the hood.

I don't like the use of the word *****
Whether you're rich or poor
upper or middle class
or a ******* lying in a ***** ditch

In our indigenous tribal times
women were respected, revered and held in a high regard
the damage from a European psychology
has pierced our mindsets and left men and society deeply scarred

Try to keep you dumb, barefoot, and pregnant in the kitchen wishing,
while he is out there acting a fool
trying to be a player straight fishing

I'm talking about a  species that not only can bear a life
but a being that can hold a job
help with homework, cook, and be a **** wife

Or maybe baby daddy was never really there
or maybe he's stuck in the judicial system
in a cell staring at the wall with a blank stare

Single strong mama doing it all by her self
playing the mother and father
being the comforter and still having to pull out the belt

Tu-pacs dear mama was real and said it the best
until you've grown up with a single mother
you're probably tripping like the rest

I love you, respect you
and truly understand your pain
don't trip mami, I see you and all that work
that you have put in is not in vain

Keep grinding and working hard
continue to do all that you can
I feel you're and got your back
I'm your number one fan

And if your man doesn't appreciate you
and treat you like the Queen that you are
My advice, ditch the punk, be on your own
or find a king that treats you like a true superstar.
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2018
My quill is prepared
To write another free-verse
About reigning Queens

Celestine beings
Four poems for four seasons
Inks of many hues

Ever so child-like
With my head high in the clouds
So fantastical

The light shines so bright
I trust my wandering mind
A smile on my face
Another free-verse series in the works!
Basically like my Lily in the Snow series, but in four parts and dedicated to the seasons!
I'll let you know when it's about to be released ;)
Be back soon!
Lyn ***
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