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This autumn season
For fall scented candles
Give depression a reason
To prove a counterexample

For fall scented candles
Remind us of winter
To prove a counterexample
How people wither

Remind us of winter
Seasonal depression's returns
How people wither
With personal concerns

Seasonal depression returns
To prepare for a storm
With personal concerns
Leaving little warm.

Give depression a reason
To prepare for a storm
Leaving little warm
This autumn season.
Pantoum about fall and seasonal depression. I'm not sure if the last stanza leaves the reader with the idea that depression is going to be fought in the storm, I hope so because I wanted to end this on an uplifting note. Please let me know what you think.
The moon is half. So am I
In the wintry night,
remembering lowly
the stories of lonely
of the poorest time
with no one beside
to sing a song  of season
I felt my life treason.
Get out
Go away,
I've been working hard
For too many days.

Can't think
Won't sleep,
Not with you there
Herding all my sheep.

Get out
Go away,
My head's so full
And heavy with clay.

Can't think
Won't sleep,
Afraid of monsters
That are sure to creep.

Get out
Go away,
I never said
That you could stay.

Can't think
Won't sleep,
Could end it all
With just... one... leap...
(c) Alliso Wonder
I am yours,
Or so it seems.
I give my all,
My everything.
Every night,
You continue to take.
My silent screams,
"I'll break! I'll break!"
But still you chase,
Still you win.
And once again,
I’ll give in.
I give my all,
My everything.
Because I am yours,
Or so it seems.
(c) Allison Wonder
10/8/19
Look up there, really look.
The line of your sight and the path that it took.
Try to understand the truth of life’s vocation.
While you grasp the depths of its bitter isolation.
There is nothing up there, nothing watching.
Just a barren universe, casually mocking.
Existence is a catalog of aligned integration.
Just a system of knowledge and past information.
Your ability to experience in all of its brilliance.
Is merely the outcome of your required existence.
The world we inhabit, manipulate yet trust.
Is a game of mathematics that acts as it must.
For nothing can happen without the passing of time.
This is a terrifying, existential crime.
I’m just starting out and feed back is welcomed
Look up there, really look.
The line of your sight and the path that it took.
Try to understand the truth of life’s vocation.
While you grasp the depths of its bitter isolation.
There is nothing up there, nothing watching.
Just a barren universe, casually mocking.
Existence is a catalog of aligned integration.
Just a system of knowledge and past information.
Your ability to experience in all of its brilliance.
Is merely the outcome of your required existence.
The world we inhabit, manipulate yet trust.
Is a game of mathematics that acts as it must.
For nothing can happen without the passing of time.
This is a terrifying, existential crime.
I’m just starting out and feedback is welcomed!
K Oct 6
DR
Breathe a breathy, "How have you been doing," in your white coat, Dr.
And cast blank but not wholly unconcerned glances my way.
Press cold against my chest, ask me to breathe.
Coax my blood forth-
I can't watch it fill,
fill,
fill.
Mark Oct 6
(I)

My love would frown, if could, about this stone;
For grey had never pleased her fashioned eye
And Times Old Roman carved for older throne-
Not beauty, youth, no mason knew could die.
Would they, as I, denounce that fair be bones?
Thereby no empty tomb would need a cross,
Engravings spared from eyes of teary loans:
That borrows from a grave's imprint of loss.
But plainly here invokes her name in etch:
Confronting on my dreams that have her live-
As vividly as breath, her beauty's sketch,
Yet sight to stone cannot in death unlive.

Upon then mason grave this line 'neath hers:
'If here resides, then here too mine refers'

(II)

But when I part her grave, part follows me;
Unseen but seen behind my weary lids;
At best when closed does darkness gift her be
Into the light methought that death forbids.
Yet do I mourn with force to self deceive?
Defying state that time shall be my own,
Lest have me too immortal death receive
And dwell between where mind and spirit roam?
No! Gone my love to where all beauty flies!
Where havens still her grace as when had left,
I bound her not to ducts where beauty cries
Tho' I despair by depths at mine bereft.

Goodbye my dear, may essence seize the skies!
But be nearby, when near your body lies.

(III)

That I converse with you on matters new;
That matters old do not befall on you,
Could you forgive if by the winds so blew
A leaf upon my love that grows anew?
Know that they grow to not conceal your mound
Nor dig you deeper than by sorrow dug;
Think no mistake that 'neath my heart's not bound;
But love's bereft have none a better drug.
Yet if by sign out from your spirit's world;
By sparrows, storms, or ominous displayed:
Have by the skies 'alone' the word you hurled
Then shall it be that love is ours replayed.

Should graciousness so follow where you are
Then you would know you're not replaced, by far.
In the autumn leaves they play
The little fairies dance all day
Tinting the trees, the ferns and fonds
Painting the fall with their wings and wands
Before the ponds turn to icy glass
Please hold this fall moment slowly past
© LadyRavenhill 2019
Jack and Sill
Swallowed a Pill
Ran up to the Hill
To kil* a heavy Monster

Jack shot and Missed
Sill shot and Killed
The ugl* heavy Monster
Let's Cherish Childhood.
Oh I don't like Hello Poetry's system of automatic selection and marking of offensive words and displaying it as ***, because it often fails.
More often it marks those words or parts which are not at all offensive. It fails to understand the context in which the words has been used.
To avoid this I have myself tried to put *
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