Ten

One, two, two, three,
Counting down to killing me.
four, five, five, six,
Rowing down the River Styx.
Seven, eight, eight, nine,
These emotions aren't mine,
ten, ten, ten, ten,
Die to see the light again.

Brent Aug 18

blue skies
yellow leaves
seventeen
butterflies

cool breeze
warm shade
red lips
rosy cheeks

pink dress
white shoes
squinted eyes
bright smile

ruined coat
muddy shirt
brown shoes
silly laugh

years pass
memories fade
longing for
favorite shade

your smile
your warmth
nothing more
but nostalgia

time flies
gray skies
dark stars
colorless life

Roisin Jun 26

pride was her weakness
but then pride caught fire
now her pride is burned

pride was her weakness
but then pride grew tired
now her pride is yearned

pride was a relic of her insanity
her pride, her vanity
hit with reality
she is no longer proud.

Pride - a deadly sin.
Roisin Jun 26

it wasn’t love
rather lust
a gentle hand
a breach of trust
a quickened breath
an easy lie
a dance with death
a hard goodbye.

Atlas makes me wonder sometimes about what true struggle is. A never ending hell, carrying the world and the sky apart, so two ancient lovers never again experience the joy of a child who could be their advocate. They bore thousands just to shed their blight upon this world and purge all the divergent paths. Should I release  Atlas from his bondage and tell the two ancient lovers to love again so that the paths between us never again diverge? Or are you terrified in the idea of a path that converges like I am? I know Atlas would be more that joyful to be relieved, but what catastrophe would come from Gaia and Uranus giving birth to their next harbinger of death? This fear is so dumbfounding  and beyond my reasoning. I suppose, my love, that it's because we have no idea where our paths lead. But in the end, words are like the paths we take, ever flowing from the distance we make them out to be. So let's see where these paths lead so we will one day be able to converge at last without the fears of a lonely man. Atlas, begone! We've made our decision. Good day! And goodmorning my love. Let's now have the greatest talk about nothing at all ever and make those paths larger than ever thought to be.

Only seven years old
And I was no longer a beautiful rose.

Wilted, dying, deflowered.

But like a tree falling in the woods,
Do I even make a sound at all?

Too young to understand,
I never said anything.

But as I grew,
I felt... bad.
Dirty,
Unworthy,
Unlovable.

I felt that there must not be a single person on earth
Who could ever take me as I am,
Broken.

When I began to understand, I still said nothing.
And when it happened again,
This time by someone closer,
I knew what it was.

I felt betrayed.
I felt sick.
Like I had just done the worst thing any human being could have possibly done.
Like I was a failure,
I felt terrible.

Months passed, and eventually I got better, but not without my family
Taking note of that short period when I wasn't okay.
They never knew.
They still don't know.

That when I was seven,
I was ruined.
That, as I turn sixteen,
I fear the life ahead of me because of what they did.
That, when I see him, one of them,
And I hear him coughing and out of breath,
Alzheimer's taking him, slowly, not fast enough,
I wish for him to die.

That I fear every male I come into contact with.

That I lived with my tormentor.

That they took my innocence,

That it wasn't just one,
It was two,
And I remember every detail even though I may lie about it.

I might say "I don't know."
"I don't remember."
But every last second, colour, texture, feeling, breath, detail,
Is forever etched into my mind.

Brett Palmero Jun 11

There were seven
Together they felt blessed
Feeling as if in heaven
Until one of them left

Then there were six
Trying to live without one
One less to mix
Then another was gone

Then there were five
Wondering why others leave
And the rest cry
Another left, the others grieve

Then there were four
Dwindling right here
Waiting for more
As another shall disappear

Then there were three
Waiting for another to go
To be released and free
As more goes into the flow

Then there were two
Trying to understand
Who is next to say adieu
Now one is left to stand

Then there was one
Taking in the loneliness
Waiting for life to be done
And last they go into the darkness

Sisters and Brothers                 
Irritating each other                                     Bond thats unbreakable                               Love that last forever                                     Incredibly annoying at times                        Greatly appreciated                                        Surviving everything together             ~Alyssa Nichole

We've heard of seven deadly sins,
Where do seven graces begin?
One is a smile on every face,
Then kindness to all is a grace,
Humility is to bless,
Sharing is great, no less,
Peace in daily life,
Walk away from strife,
Understanding is for free,
Compassion for all he's and she's,
Share these among all races,
Should bring a smile to their faces,
That's seven heavenly graces.......

Feedback welcome.
Katy Miles Mar 2

why look upon the stars
when your eyes hold the same light?
i sail along glistening seas
until i'm lost, out of sight
look for the seventh wonder
through the day and through the night

years pass; i grow weak.

why listen to the sea
when i can hear you speak?
without warning, waves grow violent
shattering me, a deafening shriek

why try to brave the storm
when my heart's been tossed asunder?
it was only when you gazed at her
that i found the seventh wonder.

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