Belinda 17h

Heart pops
Tear drops

TG 2d

Spring rain hangs in the air
   she dances beneath the cherry blossoms
a storm of petals,
                    stars falling from her eyes,                    
a distant clap of thunder.

Troy Bell 2d

Why must I always be depressed on this day?
Is it not a joyous day of remembrance?
A day to rejoice and celebrate?
If so then why does thy soul weep.
Why must it bear such misery.
Hardening into a dark hubble of which it once was.

Swollen eyes and puffy cheeks.
Trails of salt staining the skin.
Or so it would be if one was able to bear their emotions true.
Hiding by smiles and laughter outside.
Breaking into pieces inside.

Pain that shows no bounds.
Always hiding beneath the surface.
No one has found this truth before.
And soon I fear it will overtake.

Casting away that loving face.
Breaking the smile that everyone sees.
Lifeless eyes take over.
As body goes limp with grace.

The ready empathy took me by surprise.
She took precise aim with her eyes
And pierced my worn armour
With ease,
Slowly and calmly
Drawing out my story
With her tears
Diluting my grief with her kindness
Lightening the weight with each smile
Beneath the spring blossom.

Grief shared is survivable.

I’ve read a thousand books
And walked a thousand halls
I’ve gazed into a thousand mirrors
And I have scorned them all
I’ve smiled a thousand times
In a thousand different ways
I’ve learned a thousand things
On a thousand different days
A thousand different rivers
A thousand different rests
A thousand different lives i've lived
And a thousand different deaths

Throughout my thousand journeys
And my thousand lonely tears
Nothing can compete
With my single, solitary fear

This was my entry poem

I feel two lines etched on my face.

One longer than the other.

Feeling a little more colder

each time I step out.

They will lie there,

and dry there,

but never erased.

Shashi 5d

Not a sign of weakness
But a symbol Of bravery
It says you've accepted the truth
And ready to fight illusions' slavery

When the realization hits
No, everything's not fine
I do not embrace the lie
There's pain in truth, but it's all mine

Won't bring you pain
No, they do not hurt
Tears are your friend
Sacrificing, for your comfort

Cry, my dear friend, cry
let those tears flow
And listen what they say
Once you stop, make sure
To let all of the pain, go away!!

I saw a dog today.
It was running on the baseball field.
The clouds were puffy
Like in Toy Story.
The rust red of the distant buildings bridged the surreal gap
between the serene blue sky and candy green grass.
He was well built,
Pointed ears,
Lolling tongue.
There was an effortless curve to his tail
And a sprightly spring to his step.
But he wasn’t exhibiting his strength,
He was rolling on his back,
Twisting with sheer ecstasy.
While I feel the grass tickle the back of my legs
He doesn’t let anyone in the world stop him.
I almost cried.
Or maybe I did cry.
In my shade
I felt as though he were so far away,
Shimmering in a sunny mirage.

He simply wasn't true,
leaving me sighing, broken, crying in the rain
not even a real man,
narcissistic coward, causing pain

But, baby you're a loving passionate man
truly leaving no regret,
only melting desire that simply makes me wet

Ouote prompt in 40 words


These are the cries of my people, their nights of joy are written in past tense,
Their singing voices are hymning hymns of sadness,

Freedom they know not.

Sorrow surrounds them.
With Smiles on their sad faces while prayers drown in years of tears and suffering,

Suffering is a gift wrapped in endurance with false hope notes written with ink made from bitter tears.
This is to you God,

Made in your image but my peoples mirrors reflect rejects.

This is to you, for silent voices on their behalf I speak,

With many un-kept promises and yet they pray so prayers keep them,
Our father, who art in heaven

Hallowed be thy name,

May you hear my people as they cry,

their tears have turned into dust undusted

The residues of their unsung sorrow exists and echoes in each one of us
Bare the moment while my peoples tears turn to soup while they feast on bible scriptures to satisfy their hunger,

They Became cannabis when they ran out of options.
They turned their prayers to lullaby's singing to their children before bed time in hopes of a fruitful tomorrow.
"(on every) night of joy (we) bare the moments (of beautified sorrows that don't) come once in life.

Time wasted is never (•gained) back.

See I could know for it rains tears in life and everywhere,

(I used to kiss you goodnight hoping for a better tomorrow where you still exist, but now I kiss you goodbye for tomorrow I'll be greeted by a corps)

For lullabies have turned to goodbyes when putting hungry bodies to their eternal beds" (Re-Constructed Verse)
(Isizwe siyakhala, iz'nyembezi azisuleki.

Lobaba ongana kudla struggles to make it through out the day,

He was probably there ngo94, standing in line to mark that X for freedom,

Shit, that was just an illusion now the black man is eluded and drowning in delusions.?
Father, the only tears we know are the tears that fall when good mornings are a sign of soulless bodies who's soul when asleep decided to use emergency exits from malnutritioned* bodies,

How does a night have joy when suffering comes on every morning?
Dear Man!!!

(Thula Sizwe/ ungabo khala/ Ngoba Inkosi izosiNqobela)

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