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Karmen Jun 1
As I close my garage and drive away, all I can think of is the escape; Is it really an escape or easy to not let them see the pain. My heart is heavy; my mind so full can't even fathom a tear to pull. I'm lost, and drained don’t even know who will listen to my brain. I've pushed, pulled and choked, and drowned now its surround. Cause she had doubt felt fear and neglect like someone's hands around her neck. Her depths so wide and cracks so thin how could she ever feel she’ll win. Worry is anxiety depression, with suicide is supposedly a sin. My father, who is in heaven, please guide my path for soon to see it all, only my wrath as I close my garage and drive away.
Writing from my cousin, sharing the poem for all.
Catch a calling pigeon,
Tell him what you really think.
Express your deepest statements
To the rim of your last drink.
'Cause society will tell you
That your voice is not worth hearing,
As they cast their vicious judgments,
With their pompous faces leering.

Release your thoughts into the silent night,
Or share them on a small poetry site.
Intellectual conformity is promised:
We learned to lie without being dishonest.
How does one share an opinion that isn't held by either the majority or the loud minority?
What is the definition of true love today,
You hear about so many searching, for it, many ways,
To be true, you would have no restrictions,
As in race, age, wealth, or trying to get others involved,
To change, their actions, how they live, and dress, each day.
It would just be special emotions, loving,
A wonderful feeling, like caring parents,
Seeing their new baby, on it’s very first day.
Working on each - others good qualities, no negative
Thoughts, about the other person, in their mind.
You have to meet in person, any one, can put a picture,
With a story on line.
Like shopping for groceries, go out and squeeze some
Lemmon’s, for if you wait, and keep talking to long,
You may miss out, and run out of time.

Tom Maxwell ® 3/12/21/AD 12:30 PM
A poem can be written,
In many, different ways,
Depending, on the authors emotions,
Like everyone’s, changing every day.

It’s not hard to write,
As some think it could be,
Sharing honest thoughts, with feelings,
Maybe guidance, for others, to see.

We all have messages, to share,
Have no fear, of what others might say,
Be open, and honest,
Release your visions, in A special way.

                                                                      ©Tom Maxwell 02/08/2007
So Many beautiful poems,
About love today, Receiving,
Giving, sharing, wishing,
Along with tears, for those,
Hearts, that were broken,
Some way.

Everyone, falls in love,
Numerous, reasons, and ways,
As you walk the path, of rose’s
Always make sure, your sharing,
An honest reflection, of yourself,
If you want, the love in your life, to stay.

Tom Maxwell©
02/24/2021 AD
Anemone Feb 1
I have spent so many years like everyone else's therapist
and now I want to share
but I am so afraid of doing the same to them
I refuse to be a burden for them to bear
God created this beautiful planet,
Which renews, all of our survival needs,
He also created all of us equal,
Everyone sharing, loving caring,
Was the idea of the original plan, for us to see,
Then humans created money,
Which is talked about, worshiped,
More than God today,
Greed for the money, is what causes,
Separation, pain, around the world,
In every corner, of all the land,
It's time we reverse, to the original plan.
Different feelings
All kind of emotions
Precious memories
written down.
A notebook with notes
A box with sometimes
handwritten notes.
A collection of
pieces of the soul
put together
Fragile , precious
To be handled with care and respect.


Poetry is a very personal art.
Sharing your inner feelings.
Every poem is personal
A piece of the soul.
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