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Nylee Mar 19
Every thing has changed,
Nothing is the same.
I know more about not knowing
What will come next,
Just holding my breath.
A Procrustean woman's tale
in an orbit does tell that this snitch
here wasn't Montgomery whether sound must hitch
with Pythagoras
that seldom erupt in despair
now dire hands with guilty chest
yet volcanoes bleed in the air
note auther L.M Mongo,ery..
goodtea Apr 2019
Flowers crawl up
Pushing aside dirt,
What was once a
Heavy weight
Now the support we
Plant our roots on
Dig deep
Until we bloom.
wrote this while helping run a group so don't let people think you can't multitask.
b Mar 2019
i am deep in a story i have
been in before and i
******* hate sequels.

i have once again found
love in the wrong place;
a very good friend of mine.

loving your best friend feels
a lot like putting down your dog,
the eyes always look the same
and you'll never be able to
tell her why it had to
die in the first place.
soph Jul 2018
Still stuck behind the glass wall
There’s no use in getting out
No use in communicating
The people on the other side have given up, too
I slump down to the floor in a state of defeat
Resting my head on my knees
I feel a knocking on the glass
I turned my head
A smile grew on my face
Someone like me!
Someone that understands!
I could tell in his eyes
He was behind a glass wall, too
“Do you feel my heart saying hi?”
A bond formed
From nothing else
But our life behind those glass walls
I reached through the glass
And took his hand
I’m no longer alone
I attempted a continuation (ooooooh) of a poem I wrote called Glass around a month ago

the best conclusion I can give without really giving away the intended meaning of the metaphor is that it’s really good to find someone that can relate to you :’)
Sha Jun 2018
Silence and space. We have now mastered the trick. And we are living it. No cues. No dramatic transitions or face-slapping moment.
Dead air is not even awkward.
The parlor games are busted.
It just happened one Tuesday morning inside Starbucks after you ordered your iced Americano and my vanilla frappuccino, no whipped cream,

Maybe there's a sequel to this story, but for now, we should roll the credits.
Too saddest to tell you
today on this First Day of Spring
my Daddy has his Birthday
he cannot sing
not today nor tomorrow
you'll ask me why?
decennia ago he suddenly died
not of any stroke nor heart-ache
just wanna remember
that Today just One Day after the Northward Equinox
he'd have his celebrations
never congratulations anymore now
not today nor tomorrow
this is not a poem
just a statement
a human document
of one of the most gifted fathers
aquarelles, poetry or feuilletons
even performances at William's Theatre
his weekly sequels of the loving
and living Charlie Chan
besides earning much money
as the top-manager
of STANVAC, Jakarta
that big oil-office
with the red Pegasus
my Daddy climbed its back
and never returned
remembering his Birthday
emotionally on his epitaph
how odd
The Start of Spring
One Day Before his BirthDAY
the annual Northward Equinox
has just passed his graveyard
keep smiling is not here today
but grieving will be okay
he'd be no more a part of all celebrations
even though where he now is
he remains my Dearest Daddy and all there is
I remain,  still with the greatest admiration

and his part of heart
still beats in mine....

Anno Domini 21 March 2018
No Daddy, this is NOT A POEM
just a simple statement from your darling daughter
a greatest lost, this multitalented father
BlancaNigrida Feb 2018
Fire and pain and sorrow behind me,
A soul in my knapsack they didn't want me to have.
   I hear shouts from behind the wall I've broken,
     I can't let them get me again.
      A light, a song, a passion for me
        Lying just beyond the boundary.
      They shoot me down and I bleed tears,
     But I emerge, my loot intact.
   But I emerge, body busted and broken.
But I emerge.
Sequel to 'A Plea To My Captor'
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