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William Troup Sep 24

A quill in hand, on parchments he scribes
   an endearing fable, of you and I?
   his ink would surely dry!
      His lines run deeper, our veins to thin
         to save our end
         from diamond lies!


A quill in hand, from memories he scribes
   an echoing story, of you and I?
   his mind would surely fly!
      His heart beats harder, our time to lean
         to save our start
         from velvet skies!


A quill in hand, from daydreams he scribes
   a yearning tale, of you and I?
   his hand would surely die!
      His words cut finer, our lungs to small
         to save our voices
         from warning signs ...
caroline Sep 10
babies struggle with object permanence
where are things they cannot see?
but adults also struggle with this
what is there to life without me?
The baby bump brings,
An ethereal glow on her,
That reflects on me!
m h John Aug 24
pick up the mirrored glass
and let it slip through your hands
and cut up your fingers
on the sharpness
of its truth

let the person in the mirror
talk to you
and explain how
the reflection you see
is only a fragment

of the person
that you used to be
Tony Tweedy Aug 18
I write poems to chase rotting ghosts from my soul.
To clear thoughts, voice ideas and to make myself whole.

I'm not here to write classics or tell of epic events.
Just to gather thoughts, clear my head and hope to make sense.

I read what you write and hear your point of view.
I learn from your lessons and I search what is true.

If just one word in return that I write should make you reflect.
I am honored you found some meaning and reason to connect.
Sometimes I read and hear the echoes of myself.... sometimes you just say it better than I could hope to.
Inner Devils

I’m always, on the outside,
But I’m looking in,
Your greatest faults, I’ll abide,
I support and embrace your sin,

I’ll swallow your pain,
I’ll digest what’s inside,
I will rust your chain,
In me you can confide,

I’ll help you shift the blame,
Run from angels who refuse to see,
At your lowest, you’ll be glad I came,
But you’ll never know the real me,

Friending those who only think of self,
Always talk in a riddle,
Waiting on your secret shelf,
Musing you, while your privates you ******,

I smile when you call,
Us, only talking when you fall,
Two in a dance like notes of a fiddle,
Still, at your loneliness I maul,

I’ll smile when I’m used,
My shoulder ******* your tears,
I know when you’re confused,
I know, because I’ve scribed your fears,

I am the one who leers,
Watching your many tragic fates,
Coming when you shun your peers,
Remembering all the dates,

Suffering in total silence,
Guarding your souls flimsy, gate,
Torches and mobs gather and I stand in defiance,
While you sit at home and *******,

Think you see me so crystal clear,
You always call me when it’s late,
I listen, and drown you in a beer,
Fore I’m never one to subjugate,

I taste every tear,
Make you cold to further your career,
Your emotions I stow,
Take every blow,
I am,
The Devil you know...
Jay Lewis Jul 18
Every night,
Before I dream,
I wonder what our lives could have been.
money bought him
the young flowers to
money bought him

yet his money
bought him trouble
for his victims were
well below the age of

his money will need
to buy good legal
as the New York prosecutors
so desire his

money never purchased
him an ounce of
on his money he'll be
left to endlessly
m h John Jun 25
this year i have chose to let go,
to let go of the heavy
half-hearted relationships
no more forcing connections
where the stars do not align
and the dots do not connect
for that my freedom will no longer feel
like a fish that cannot swim
or a rose in a field of weeds

i have chose
to nurture
what’s willing to grow
and willing to stay

i honor my strength
with gratefulness everyday
for helping me
make it out alive and whole

this year i chose
to take a step forward
and clear my eyes
to see reality for what it really is
instead of living in an imagination
of what it could be
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