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He was a man who stood tall;
He knew he was destined to face it all.

From scholar to lawyer to freedom fighter;
He knew in the end it would make this country brighter

He tried his best to fight for equality;
Coz he knew all people would get equal opportunities

Everyone was equal in his eyes;
And it was this trait that made him rise

He was born to perform a duty;
And he did it to the best of his ability

He was someone we will forget never;
Our Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela
He truly was a man of great stature
My closest companion.
Whom I shared my secrets with.
We were two halves of a circle.
The only person who withstanded my tempest.
Your voices told me stories I will never forget.
You showed me things I never knew about.
We would laugh. We would cry. We would raise ****.
You were eccentric. That’s what I liked the most.
Never afraid to break the rules.
My love for you knows no bounds.
You may be gone, but your memory lives on.
Your spirit is here, walking with me.
My guardian angel.
My friend.
My closest companion.
A brother I always cherished.
A man whom I truly loved.

Mummy mummy mummy. !
Mummy Mummy MUMMY.!!
Look what I have done.
Rhyming moon with June.
Gived me sooo much fun.
I done it on myself.
So does it make me one?
Yes my dear sweet poet
From all that mummy taught you.
Hurry grow up fast
And make yourself a blooming
Written by Philip. 2/11/2018
(Wishful thinking)
Childhood ambition
atlas voyager Oct 2018
i found an old picture today of my only grandmother, the one i all but forgot. she was small, but spoke in a mountainous voice and had a laugh like rolling thunder, even after sixty years of smoking. all the women in my family are small, smoke, and have wonderful booming laughs.

she hugged me too tight once when i was six or seven and dislocated my shoulder. she broke out in that seismic laughter when she popped it back in place and i cried for just a second, said i was a tough little bit. that's my last clear memory of her.

my grandmother died after a major ****** when i was nine, or maybe eight. i did not cry at the funeral we held in her nursing home. as an adult, i wonder why. i listened to the tiny assembly, and to my mother breaking down, day drunk and just messy with grief, but i stared at the aviary the entire time and did not shed one tear.

they kept finches for the old ladies to feed and talk to, and i always loved them. my nan did, too. years back, a peppery white society finch got named "little bitty," after me, and when we found out he was actually a he, we laughed our big matching laughs.

i'm in my twenties now and completely forgot about that wonderful woman until i dug out a dusty, stained polaroid of her and my pregnant mother at a christmas party in the nineties. suddenly i'm remembering every little moment i spent with her and crying like a child over a box of forgotten family relics. i realised just then, face a mess of tears and snot and attic dust, that i forgot along with her the only bright parts of my childhood.

i will never be able to tell her how thankful i am for her influence. she alone instilled in me that i am, indeed, a tough little thing. she was more motherly to me than mine ever was or will be, and i didn't even cry at her funeral, which had a grand assembly of six people. my mother and i were the only family members present, the rest were her friends from the home. i suspect most of them are passed by now, they were all upwards of eighty back then, and i know my mom has no space in her *****-pickled brain for her late mother anymore. so, i will think of her instead. her tiny, work weathered hands and her giants laugh, her foul mouth and bright eyes, her wonderful golden heart.

i miss you, nan, and i hope you knew how much i loved you even though i was too socially inept as a child to say it. i am proud to bear your resemblance, proud of my iron grip and sailors vocabulary. i hope with a fierceness that i will have half the fire you did when i leave this world, and i hope to also leave such an imprint on someone who really needed it.
is this even poetry? i dont know
excuse the lack of structure here, im still crying and did the entire time i wrote this.
Seanathon Sep 2018
I'd forgotten here
That the most beautiful place in the world is round

That the future I see beyond the horizon Is now
Above this place
My hometown

I'd forgotten here
But I remember now
Staring at that purple sunset. Looking back at me.
NothingInMotion Aug 2018
Take it to the bridge,
That's where it's meant to be,
It's meant to be remembered,
By lowly lock and key.

It's meant to stay forever,
It should never be forgotten,
It was there the entire time,
Yourself, not nearly so often.

It stayed there through the cold,
It stayed there through the rain,
It meant to stay with you,
Yet you never walked that bridge again.
Wishie Aug 2018
So long ago, the soldiers fell,
A raging war we cannot tell.
In our hearts, they each will dwell,
The poppies will tell us that all is well.

Fighting, hurting, to reach this day,
For what is now, we thank and pray.
For laughing children, happy and ***,
In memories from us, they will always lay.

So for this, we wear a single red flower,
That show they died for what's rightfully ours.
How they lost their numbers, hour by hour,
Their loyalty was, indeed, a great power.

So long ago, the soldiers fell,
A raging war we cannot tell.
In our hearts, they each will dwell,
The poppies will tell us that all is well.
~I won 1st place in a poetry contest with this, and I thought I'd share with you~
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
Friendships now on ice
Turn away with answers found
Lament in your eyes
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