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Rachel M Apr 2019
I am responsible
For me, and my actions;
I do my part for things to go smoothly
Honestly, you don't even do a fraction.

I paved the way for this to work
You trailed, staggering behind me
Creating potholes wherever you could
And you make it known, just to be a bully

I make mistakes sometimes,
We all do
I'm not excusing my trivial wrongdoings
But neither are you.

I thought you were my friend
I can clearly see that we're not
That is why I do not owe you
Another millisecond of my thoughts

I don't owe you anything.
You are in debt to me.
But I'm not being petty, or rude, or mean.

Just leave me alone.
I want nothing to do with you.
Pull up your socks and move on,
As we all should. As I have done, and will continue to do.
Adarsh Jaiswal Apr 2019
Scratch The Wound
Until It Stops
Bleeding .


@Adarsh .J
thesa Apr 2019
we stopped saying goodnight
and i couldn't sleep anymore
Esther L Krenzin Apr 2019
Sometimes I think you look at me
and see an empty cup
lacking in every quality
you desire to see
So you pour from your own
trying to fill mine to the brim
what you don't realize is that
I'll never
be full in your eyes
there will always be a drop
or three missing
so don't waste your precious water on
me
I'll never
be enough
to satisfy
you.

-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
Will I ever be enough?
Bus Poet Stop Apr 2019
spring planting, spring harvesting, spring garlic

One of the great joys of having a job in agriculture
is to think days, weeks, even months ahead,
One of the great joys of having a job in poetry,
like a fireman,  a patient planter of love,
you wait to be called,
then becoming by being,
part of an all consuming burning

come spring, take advantage of the cool, wet weather of spring
to put in multiple crops of peas and lettuce, also a great time
to get your perennial vegetables,
like asparagus and rhubarb, started

the planting cycle is not an either/or,
come harvest thy labored fruits,
nine crops to harvest come March,
kale, pick leaves as needed,
leeks, best left in the ground
and harvested as needed,
parsnips, purple sprouting broccoli,
rhubarb, spring cabbage, spring cauliflower,
and of course, my personal fav,
Spring Garlic

Garlic, like like love, is generally planted in the fall,
before the frost and harvested the following late summer.
But from March to May,
once the ground has truly thawed,
the young lover plants, spring garlic or green garlic,
can be harvested.

it’s a long bus ride to Western Canada
where the garlic spring has come,
ain’t complaining lots of time to write foolishness
and plant a few good bus poems in northern ontario
and even michigan,
the window slides, and the seeds scattered,
but at every bus poet stop,
those that need it,
planted many inches deep


April 2 naught how I wish I was nineteen again
Ciel Apr 2019
What is the meaning of patriotism?
Has it become synonym to blind loyalty?
Does it mean letting your morals be defined by your government?
Is it turning a blind eye to millions of people starving in another nation because your economy profits on the sale of guns to their oppressors?
Is it believing that one's life is more important than others'
based on where they were born?
Is it being complacent to bombing innocent people one after the other
for what their greedy government or a small percentage of extremists did?
Is it valuing the life of 10 of your citizen
more than a hundred of another country's?
Loving your country is normal
but inherently feeling morally superior to the rest of the world
because you were born within the invisible borders of a country
is idiotic.
Jenna Apr 2019
Pretentious eyes
never thought twice
before we cut ties
raised by alcohols entice
as droplets of water flies
Essen Apr 2019
i'm writing this on my phone since i can't seem to get up today, i'm still in bed

i'm sure you're sick of hearing it, so sick of me, and you just want to move on

i guess i can't blame you now, even if it's killing me, i can't stop thinking

your friendship meant a lot to me, enough that its absence is deadly

i'm not the person i was when we were friends, or even before lich

i don't know who i am now. i'm not who i want to be though

these months have broken me and when i thought we were cool, well...

we weren't, apparently. was that your idea or...

was that hers? i can't tell where you end and she starts

if you want to help, abandonment's not help

if you care about me, don't leave me here

if you're not her, don't make fun of me

these aren't demands, it's me begging

begging for your forgiveness

begging for your mercy

i don't... i don't know...

what to do too

i just know

i miss

you
lila, i doubt you even check this anymore, but i'm not who you're saying i am. i think deep down you know that.
Jay M Apr 2019
She's fallen from grace,
Her mind's all over the place,
How can she keep running this endless race?

Fantasize the happiness,
Put aside the loneliness;
Making the same mistakes again,
Don't know where she belongs...

Broken inside, with no place to go,
Dried out her eyes,
Open yours;
The feelings she hides,
Falling behind,
Every moment; remind, relive, repeat,
Lost in the silence,
Lost inside,
The land inside...

Dark and damp,
Awaiting a savior,
Someone, reach to her...
Is there anybody out there...?

No, not even the remains of the family,
Torn apart...

She cries tonight,
Wondering what she can do;
Another pill,
Another drink,
Another fake smile,
She lives her worst nightmares...

She cries, she lies,
She's on memories that she once knew,
Then there's another empty bottle on the floor,
Not hers...

Every night, just one more night,
She tries so hard to go on..

Dried eyes, there's nothing more she can do...
The daughter that they hardly knew...
Once so innocent,
Now so far gone...

- Jay M
April 2nd, 2019
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