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Salmabanu Hatim Jul 2018
Going to the toilet was a nightmare,
I would hold my *** and poo for hours,
For fear of sitting on the low toilet seat,
It was pain and toil getting up.
Now, a raised toilet over  two bricks,
And a grab bar,
Has made my life Shangrila,
No more fear,
No more anxiety,
Just slip on the seat and RELAX,
And do what you have to do.
Arthritis and knee pain had made it difficult for me to go to loo.
Wyatt May 2018
Rescue me
on the twenty two
before I fixate myself
on the bitter truth.
I passed by the 15 earlier
and this scenery I remembered
looks much more pleasant
than my current view.
One to ten was a bumpy road
without a single break
except this single heart of mine
that cracks in the hands of fate.

I always look behind me,
never through the windshield,
at today's ongoing traffic.
My darkness
has a grip on the wheel
and I currently reside
reluctantly in the passenger seat.
I've never had any control of my life,
it's like a vehicle that's now defective.
We're violently switching lanes,
me and my enemy in the same seats.
I always turn up the radio and sing along
so I can forget all of this urgency
when I swear every single time
I'm meaning to reach for the keys.
Please believe me, I didn't mean for this.
It's like I'm intoxicated, under the influence.
To all the property damaged
and to all those who are hurt
as I speed by without a plan,
all I can do before getting my ticket
offer you is a fool's apology.
I am the hazardous passenger.
I am a hazard, I'm a vehicle that's recklessly speeding down this crowded highway.
Poetic T Apr 2017
Arched over time, a little rustic but never one
to deny aching limbs a respite from life's moments.
Just surveying when static, slowly the world gazes back.

Words etched in time, long past mentioning's
of love bound by initials for that moment
was all but etching faded as time weathered past.

He sat there, always talking but not a soul
was near to hear his spoken verses, he would
laugh like thunder echoing in the trees, then sombre.

Behind this bench three cherry trees blossoming there
beauty shower the surrounding with each stirring
of breath the wind gave them. and he sits there smiling.

It's been a while since the old man sat, but where three trees
were, now a young one sits behind. A lonely woman sits
flowers against it, blossom kisses her checks and she smiles.
Vexren4000 Mar 2017
Men, boys really, subject to the will of their government.
Young, virile, the perfect soldier.
Ready to have his humanity ground away.
No matter the location to be airdropped into,
War will be there to erode his sanity, even his own morals.
The loved ones he held so dear back home.
Now fly and flutter out the windows opening.
No matter the nation, the man, the morals, the goal,
The soldier will always be the one.
Who greases the great wheels of war,
With their sweat blood and decay.
With the kings and dictators,
Presidents and prime ministers,
All vying to win a war,
While sitting in their ivory towers.
Barking out orders to generals
to be barked in turn to peons.
This shall go on for eons of millennia
As it always has.

Alan S Bailey Feb 2017
This is the only way it seems
Each time I turn you on-this remote
So close at hand but it isn't what I need
Vague colors and shadows over the screen.
In the end I'm stuck in this vortex,
But I don't even know which way I should go,
Broken down on a park bench
Because you're such a hard person to ever know.
I'm hung up on you,
You're the TV, I press each button on the remote,
You take me everywhere but still I'm lost,
Remaining here in this seat without hope.
An endless stream of shows, this is what I want,
Yes, this is it I guess. I'm lost on you,
I'll give myself nightmares just thinking of
Never getting to be alone with just us two,
Alone on some sofa-in my mind-holding you,
Kissing your neck, then I find I have pillow
In my mouth and I wake up in this stupid
Waste of a wreck.
K G Nov 2016
This chair rigged me to the cross after my tophet
This chair was clutching hell while serving heaven
This chair was hemmed by apartheid
Which felt younger than yesterday
This seat was daubed for a height
The apathy melted its own pipe
When a spark of distrust shorts out our delicate circuits
Utopian structure slewed right back out
These chairs grew wild, imperfect, and infinitely nervous
Jim Marchel Aug 2016
Save me a place at the table
My little white flower
That sways in the breeze.

Please hold my seat if you're able
I'll love you forever
After all the wine from bottle flees.

Set me a plate and I'll stay full
My hunger endeavors
Your warmth was always mine to be.
Addison René May 2016
i wish that you'd wear your seatbelt
because i want you and no one else
i wish we were both sedated
because then there would be no reason
to say we couldnt make it
and the car is empty now,
and i can't seem to figure it out -
because now my heart is in my throat
because i don't remember a word
that you spoke
because the music skimmed the air
and i hang on to every note -
now the melody is diguised
in those little lies
while the love we shared slowly died...
i wish that i didn't wear my seatbelt
because now i want to be anyone
but myself
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