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Rose Mar 2019
The rule of king is lonely
Assassination makes the deaths impartial
Leaving the road to glory ******
but the riches are monumental!

Witches say I'm invincible
Was all this premeditated?
Invincibility?the thought is laughable!
Maybe this was fated…

The secret had been discovered
The murders avenged
With the guilt leaving you feel smothered
Oh how I've been challenged

At least the kingdom is ruled by one better than I
Tis a shame that I had to die
by Michael R. Burch

Will we be children as puzzled tomorrow—
our lessons still not learned?
Will we surrender over to sorrow?
How many times must our fingers be burned?

Will we be children sat in the corner
over and over again?
How long will we linger, playing Jack Horner?
Or will we learn, and when?

Will we be children wearing the dunce cap,
giggling and playing the fool,
re-learning our lessons forever and ever,
never grasping the golden rule?

Keywords/Tags: kindergarten, golden rule, lessons, timeout, corner, dunce cap, fool, foolish, flunk, graduate
An alias Apr 5
Angels are those 100 foot tall celestial beings with the thousand eyes and seven pairs of wings. They burn with celestial flame and run ichor through their bones. Demons on the other hand, even with the bad reputation, are far less frightening. They’re fallen angels, shouldn’t they still have all those attributes? Well, no. I don’t think so. Demons have adapted look more like humans. Sure if you stare too hard, too long, you’ll notice something for a spilt second, but most people dismiss that as a trick of the eye. Demons blend into the crowds, in the shadows, in the darkness in our hearts. They were made into less celestial beings, and they have every right to be angry. Thrown out of heaven like food for the dogs. They are retaliating. They’re disrupting God’s so called perfect creation. They are bringing chaos into this world. Humans don’t know this and think of it as a regular encounter, a passerby on the street, the barista at your local coffee shop, the fruit vendor tending to their goods. Demons are making it a normal enounter, so normal that we get comfortable and can’t tell the difference. It’s their job to do this. Soon enough we can’t tell the difference. Demons look like humans, because really, aren’t we all just demons in disguise?
The Desk
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

There is a child I used to know
who sat, perhaps, at this same desk
where you sit now, and made a mess
of things sometimes.
                                     I wonder how
he learned at all . . .

He saw T-Rexes down the hall
and dreamed of trains and cars and wrecks.
He dribbled phantom basketballs,
shot spitwads at his schoolmates’ necks.

He played with pasty Elmer’s glue
(and sometimes got the glue on you!).
He earned the nickname—“teacher’s PEST.”

His mother had to come to school
because he broke the golden rule.
He dreaded each and every test.

But something happened in the fall—
he grew up big and straight and tall,
and now his desk is far too small;
so you can have it.
                                  One thing, though—
one swirling autumn, one bright snow,
one gooey tube of Elmer’s glue . . .
and you’ll outgrow this old desk, too.

Published by: TALESetc, A Bouquet of Poems (for children of all ages), Better Than Starbucks. Keywords/Tags: desk, school, spitwads, glue, teacher’s, pest, broke, golden rule, failed, test
Ezinne Feb 19
Everyone longed to hear the thoughts of the sky,
And see the sun once again smile,
To feel the essence of life ,
Forever into the light they wish to dive.

But once again darkness overcame,
A sickness with no cure,
Fear black,
Blood red,
True love wanted by all,
For hope so far lost we fall asleep,
Into our dreams gone so deep.

Like a fire burning in the dark rain,
Trying to stand high knowing it would no longer shine again,
Suddenly she arrives,
Everyone looking up to the sky,
Joyful they laugh and play,
Slowly darkness fades away,
Slowly sadness goes away.

Bright to their sight,
Life again comes out to fight,
With the love of a mother,
The light becomes stronger,
Once again a small town is saved by the love of a mother.
Osiria Melody Dec 2019
Meet Ingrid, the intrepidly-reticent gal
Whose kindness makes everyone her pal

Meet Rex, the ******* summed up in this text,
"You're the physical embodiment of death!"

Meet Sylvia, the overly-ecstatic creature
Whose smile is her most best feature

Welcome to the three voices in my head,
I've named them when I was 18

I've witnessed their respective evolutions
And I've come to the conclusion that
I'm not crazy; I'm ******* insane

To the three, if you were a human like me,
Thank you for making my childhood less worse
And teaching me that I could be anything

Look at me, writing on HePo at 19
Dreaming, while these three ******* are screaming

I ain't sure about you, but I've had these three voices in my head since I was a child. Of course, they've evolved quite a bit over the years, especially since one branched into three. They're like permanent friends that I can't get away from.
Dylan McFadden Oct 2019
Listen, my son…

From the womb every man
Builds his cities and towers
From the strength of his hand
And a will that devours

But his kingdom’s a breath,
And his rule, an illusion,
Disappearing in death –
The revealing conclusion...

Man is "king" of a land
Between his right and left ears!
He thinks: "my throne is grand!"
But his decrees, no one hears!

He will gather great treasures,
But will never have any;
Will pursue many pleasures,
But will always feel empty…

Always longing for more,
Never having enough;
He’s a slave and a *****
To his master: his stuff


Oh, may The King set him free!
He alone holds the power!
And may all bend the knee,
For, we need Him each hour!

Em MacKenzie Oct 2019
I’m waiting patiently to wake up
a living nightmare where I’m always stuck,
this thing called life that I have no desire for,
there’s a million exits but only one opened door.

So I raised my happinesses tolerance
now referred to only in the past tense.
Two sides and two faces; who decides which is best?
I just don’t know which one I recognize less.

My only saviour has been running late
but I promised that I would always wait.
She says I’m acting too stupid when she knows that I’m smart,
it’s these little contradictions that rip all apart.

I’m trying on all shades of purple and white,
I’ve gotten bored of only blue and red each night.
Why say so long when we can just say goodbye,
all that’s right is wrong and we feed truth a lie,
that’s the similarities and differences of you and I.
“Two; no more, no less.
One to embody the power,
the other to crave it.”
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