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Kamilla Jun 10
it shines through
no, it doesn’t shine
it lurks
from the eerie, dark cobweb covered corners
of my soul
vine like grip, no release, no matter the fight
grappling insecurities in constant motion
rugged claws,
ripping
scratching
snaring
holding captive, release begs of freedom
no avail
forever
forced and bound with no escape and no hope
only fear
Ickabobroe May 9
I passed you by
just like that, i just walked away
I had no idea I could pull myself to
And yet I am no longer imprisoned to stay

You looked my way
Just like that, you glanced by me
I hope you see I'm happier without you
I finally feel like I'm running safely free

I'm losing sight of what is real
Not sure what to believe

But I don't want to fall into your snare
I don't want to be all tangled up
Not in your lies
Not in my life
Go away...
Isaac Aug 2018
death is mean
as mean as it gets
snaring precious souls
in hateful nets
pulling them down
to the realm of the dead
not caring what was
or was not unsaid
destroying human flesh
vicious and cruel
choking all hope
of any renewal
while death feasts on
the flesh of those around you
live now to the fullest
before it pulls you to the ground too.
Written 15 August 2018
Kwamé Jul 2018
Prisoner without a cage
Soul forever trapped
Confined to a lifeless shell
Devoid of emotion
Slowly I waste away

Endless nights dreaming of escape
For this is not the life I chose
I don't believe in that higher power
For who would trap me here
Like a caged bird
Doing tricks for crackers

I'd rather be exploring Astral Plains
And wander lusting for knowledge
Than stay here another moment
Around people sippin the Devils potion

For this brew is awfully potent
One sip fills you with wrath and rage
As you begin to rattle my cage
All their minds filled with green

As they do anything to fulfill their greed
And begin to gorge themselves
Like glutinous giants grilling in Grenada
Never getting their fill

Lusting after thick thighs
And supple *******, doing
Anything for that 2 piece meal

Envious eyes eying everything in sight
Boasting that selfish pride, as your
Inner voice says that can't be me
He's talking about
You yes YOU

As you sit smug with your
Body shaped like a circle
Due to years of sloth like behavior

Don't worry about me I know
I'm different, I don't belong here
I know that
We are nothing more
Than temporary beings
Gone in an instant

Seeking the meaning of
Our existence
What is my purpose?

I guess I'll never
Know why I'm on this craft.
jonni inferno Mar 2017
waited
for your calle todaye
when it did not come
i kurst'
this cold and
krewel daye

oft played
are the games
of love and lyfe
skillfullye laide
are the snares
and traps
we playe the hunter
we are the baite
be it known to alle
we are the prey

and i
knowinge the price
of painfulle lessons learned
forsooke that knowledge
which thru livinge
alle mustte earne
and thought
to safely
lure you in
withe
mine open hearte

yes
i kurse
this bryghte and sunnye daye
shoulde not the skye
be fulle of kloudse an' fey ?

'twoulde match my moode...

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.
Pic Poem
http://oi65.tinypic.com/dq2i48.jpg
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added link to the pic/poem
Meg Howell Mar 2018
I took a walk down a sloping path
Trees and brambles, nature’s bloodbath

My hands, a guide
My eyes, a map
My mouth, drooling and drawn to that amber sap

The ground below finally led me there
A trusted fort, a quiet town square
A lonely whistle serenading the unsoiled air

A symmetrical tree sat waiting like a snare
For me to take its’ paragon
But, oh, do I even dare?
Reflecting on times spent as a child adventuring through my nana’s backyard.
Giraluna Gil May 2016
I made a loop with a running knot around my neck
A snare, a lasso
A hangman's hassle
I tightened it up
I pushed the chair
Only to blame the only person who actually cared
JR Rhine Mar 2016
what an eerie night
                               where wind whistles through the
                                                                           trees
                                   whose branches snare
                                                         and
                                                 snarl in the moonlight.
Steve Jul 2015
He's the drummer in a marching band
With the flick of his wrist and the speed of his hand
Like rifle fire he sets the beat
To the swirl of the kilt and the stomp of his feet

He keeps the time
He pounds the skin
He fires the snare
He cracks the rim

He beats the drum
He sets the pace
The pipers march
With amazing grace

He's the drummer in a marching band
With the flick of his wrist and the speed of his hand
To glory and back without retreat
The swirl of the kilt and the stomp of his feet.
My Father-in-law was such a drummer.
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