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Sehar Bajwa Aug 2018
concealed chains bind me
prance through surreality
i marionette
its time we follow our own dreams
nick armbrister Aug 2018
It was a stunning landscape and it was very different than the real landscape. There was more of it and the colours and form were stunning. It was how it REALLY should be but of course it wasn't. The area was near his hometown, a real ******* ******* town called Oldham. The most nasty evil place on the face of the planet. Was this dream vision a counter to the nastiness?

There was a valley far below between the hills. One side was the road, where he was now, the other side was a steep hill leading to the moors. In the valley was fields of golden crops. He imagined the crops swaying in the breeze. The distance was too far to confirm this.

He stood there by the wall, watching and taking it all in. It was nice. Time didn't matter and there was no future, just the present. The joy and beauty of this valley was memorable. A healing thing.

What of the valleys and hills further up the valley? Were they different and more colorful and of different form? Dovestones was superb anyhow. Maybe he should go there and check. After all he had all day...
Choderlos Aug 2018
Lead me to paradise
to the place that exists
in beautiful tales and folklores
in fantasies and wild imaginations
hitherto was only a wish

I pray not you leave me here
in a land of sadness and sorrow
where the wind does not blow
and the grass does not grow
the stars have faded from view
there's only light in the dark

The sweet scent of savouring flowers
songs of birds fill the air
whistling winds soothe my ear
the trees talk to each other
like a work of art
everything is perfect and in order

There I want to spend eternity
waking up to an utter delight
free from pain and worry
surrounded by nature's finest
of everything best and beautiful.
Do i ever find myself
Living a life
That isnt real?
Being in a world
Thats only surreal?
Dreaming a day
That wont ever be
Longing for something
I cant ever see?
Hope seems so
Far from reach
Today becomes tomorrow
Yet i am not free.
Yesterday seems better
Gone and redeemed
Bringing me only
More sorrow than glee-
And this is true
Im not living realy
Im longing and waiting
For deaths release:
From the live
Im not living
To the live
That wont be
Do i ever find
Living becomes survival
Indeed?
Dont tell me
Be thankfull!
You live in paradise!!!
When i am not living
Inside i have strife-
For something else
A world and a "being"
Thats always surreal
Do i find myself living
Life thats unreal???

In honesty spoken
Im not indeed
For the moment
Thats "being"
Defys me- succeed,
Im wasted and broken
And hopeless unspoken
Living for noting
Im living
Indeed,
And Life becomes
Unreal
And LIFE INDEED...
Sometìmes living isnt easy.when you face that reality never includes your dreams...you might wonder what is the point in living??to be blessed with living life thats surreal leaves you in shock:thats called LIFE indeed.
Sandman Jul 2018
Walking out on open water.
Where I am going I ask my self.
These shattered dreams
sewn through my soul like needle and thread.
A figment of the unknown.
Aware in all directions.
Life is in a rain drop falling from the tips of a sacred tree.
And you and me, we would dance in the rain.
Years flowing by and time after time we would get older and older.
Fall
into the stars.
Open up your heart and see the universe within.
So many colors in the sky.
Somewhere vivid cuts the light.
Beauty leaks from shattered points.
I do not know where I am going but in this place I know I am safe.
Tamara Walker Jul 2018
I searched for madness
But instead found insanity
And images floating towards my popcorn ceiling
Lukewarm soap bubbles
Reflecting my ******* face  
Elaborate on the details of a story
Too many stories
Few told accurately
Some forgotten for years behind the couches
Excavated and place in museums
This is apart of a much larger and longer poem called Plenty Words.
Tamara Walker Jul 2018
Teeth and tongue
Tongue and cheek
Wars start people died, and they talk,
Who’s cheating on whom within a myth of a happy ending
Cheek and cheek
Bombs, explosions and people talk,
About the weather and the puppy fluff struck in sewer drains
Our fantasies coming to a steal away the reality of misunderstood celebrities
We play life across a board game
Cross Go pick up Nothing, nothing fun things of un things
Against the knowing we celebrate everything
This is apart of a much larger poem titled Plenty Words. Enjoy!
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