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we sat in separate rooms for the best part of our lives
learning to talk through the floorboards,
shoot daggers through open doors,
hold my breath from upsetting the dust,
trust that you'd do the same.
i never knew how to help you
you never knew that i wanted to
we felt unwelcome
living in a stranger's home
for the best part of our lives
Steve Page May 15
Out of 100 people
Who were around that day
Who stopped
Who didnt instantly walk away
Who understood the options
Who expressed an opinion,
Out of those 100 people
When asked a binary question
All 100 said: yes,
They do answer questions
From strangers.
On the reliability of surveys.
Triggered by Wisława Szymborska’s “A Word on Statistics"
Jeremy Betts Apr 17
To pain I am no stranger
The first name basis is strange for sure
Caught up in an above the boards love affair
Like day to day warfare
It's fare if everyone fights fare
Otherwise it's life as a sucker in a bunker
Still not safe from the vulture culture
Fueling an anger that stirs the rage monster
Who then in turn wakes the violence that likes to linger
One v one they're barley a threat to boil over
The one benefit found for getting older
They can be handled in short order
But together they can alter a future
I acknowledge the fact it's part of my character
And work to recognize each trigger better
Enabling myself to be my own mediator
So I can step in-between me and myself quicker
It was all just, once again, too little too late,
I missed the transition from raging river
To city sewer
Instead of shooting a flare in the air I dropped anchor in danger
The last bridge I let smolder after traversing over
Was the only bridge out of my hell,
A sobering thing to remember only after realizing there was never going to be a true winner

©2024
Jeremy Betts Mar 17
I sit here and ponder
As a trailblazer,
No
A pioneer,
No
A lazy explorer,
Whatever that means, but sure
On a relatably aspect,
I'm really just a simple court jester
A third wheel passenger
A classic trope
The main guy, brushed off by those who used to claim to care
Ignored like a wondering stranger
Both lead actor and expendable,
None playable character
A name not worth trying to remember
Never a shred of credit offered either
An already undesirable role turned disaster picture
Struggling to hold it together
Both as a lover and a fighter,
Man and provider
An overdramatic graphic designer,
Not a producer
Also fighting nature as a stand alone reality denier
Because "it's not fair"
...or whatever
A true, true believer
...in what though?
I'm still not sure,
Go figure

©2024
Jeremy Betts Mar 17
Just because you can
...and...
Maybe you have,
Danced with fire
That does not mean that same flame will not burn after expired
Leaving a new want to expire
Like desire
Or so I've heard from the choir
But then again most everyone I've met,
Myself included,
Is a lier
And yet,
For reasons unknown,
I'm still a buyer
Then shortly after,
A broken heart supplier

©2024
Who is he, sitting alone and lost in thought,
Wandering all around, with no one in sight,
No shelter, no food, yet he stands tall,
Wearing clothes I've never seen before.

Every afternoon, I see him searching for food,
I wonder, was he born into this life,
Or was he made to be this way?
But surely, he must have been well before.

Many passed him by without notice,
But when I stopped to look at him,
It might have made him see me as a stranger,
But who are the real strangers here?
Mad, they call him, but who are the truly mad ones?
Zywa Oct 2023
I was a stranger

when I arrived, I still am --


now that I must go.
Poem "Gute Nacht" ("Goodnight", 1826, Wilhelm Müller)

Collection "On the fly"
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2023
When I pick up my pen
        She comes first.
When I land on the dust
         I am a stranger!
Heavy Hearted Aug 2023
You see me
You free me
And every time
you take me back-

"A hint of light in the dark (I always know)

Only enough to keep from giving up
(you're never too far, cause)
If I could go back to the start;
(wherever you go)
Id break the pattern-
(We're under the same stars.)
-before too late."

You change bodies
Sporting each soul,
Their trivialities vs.
True athenticity
How it tesselates each role;
As if I wouldn't notice it
Always, so open ended;
Every word written -
Every artwork made;
Each specific song -
Either listened to or played

Were never for anyone but myself.
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