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rhea Apr 2020
One day after 15
I reached the page penned by Suzak
That made my lips turn to the ceiling;
‘They would all smile, at the beauty of destruction’.

Rudy Steiner and his siblings carefully lined the dominoes
And planned for its collapse
Often, his father would light a candle and watch the dominoes fall in
Making them tumble ever so gloriously

One step into the horizon of this planet
And you’ll be greeted with sinking lamps and crashing engines
You’ll be brimming with tears and trembling with a broken heart
But there’d be colours of appeal painted across your opaque sky

Teddy bears line up my bed
A few pinned down by my cat
Among all the cotton mess created
There’s beauty in its misshapen form.

They say there’s beauty in everything;
From chirping birds and intricate carvings in monuments
To mountain figures and ocean hearts
If everything it is,

There must be beauty in all the lives punctured at war
And in visible bones of starving dogs by the roadside
In all the stigmatas etched on innocents
And bodies bleeding before the police as they continue yelling, ‘Azadi’

If collapsing dominoes can make somebody smile
Then this world’s a tomb of ashes
Filled with shrieks of laughter
Because they find such beauty in destruction.
This poem is influenced by The Book Thief, my favourite book.
Book Thief Aug 2017
It was a graveyard and overcast sky
and I sat with book and accordian in hand,
hearing the world with its screams
swallow up around me.
The people whom I had loved and lost,
Papa with his silver eyes
Mama her sharp tongue and tough love
Rudy whose hair the colour of lemons
and questioned why, the living and dead,
worlds apart, yet both did not have a choice.
I stood and screamed so that everything shook
the burning rubble and ash and dust
willing my words to bring it all back
but it did not come, and my breath rose in gasps.
Death had looked me in the eye and said,
“It’s not time yet.”
I would shut my eyes to the world
only decades later.
I will understand that there was hate and pain
there was sadness
but even more so, there was love and joy.
I will know that the people I loved had reason
to kiss goodbye
whether it was their own hurt
or saw it as a necessity,
but they were never truly gone from me
always somewhere nearby,
in the thick and thin
frail and worn
of times.
I would learn
to forgive Death that day.
I will understand that
and I will be hurt,
but I will be okay.

~

Not all deaths are sad.
Some, meant to ease their own pain,
Are called freedom.
While some,
Meant to ease the pain of others,
Are called love.


© BT
My first poem on HP.. Thank you all for reading

Edit: Words can't describe how grateful I am to be part of this wonderful community. I'm so blown away by your support, it makes my day! You all are truly awesome, and I cannot thank you enough <3

BT x
Ashley Mellinger Jun 2016
Hans Hubermann,
you had to love the man. (pg. 342)

he has soft, gentle eyes,
the color of melting silver, metallic. (pg. 34, 36)
a tired smile to match, (pg. 64)
but had a roaring laugh. (pg. 67)

his face wondered and traveled,
but disclosed no answers. (pg. 71)

always defends and protects,
even when angry or upset. (pg. 244)
his voice quiet and calm. (pg. 498)

escaped two deaths (pg. 34)
before dying in his sleep. (pg. 498)

kind, yet stupid
makes him an idiot,
but he's only a man. (pg. 204)

he never failed her. (pg. 493)
he was always there (pg. 34)
at least by midscream. (pg. 36)
he always knew what to say. (pg. 65)
"shh, it's alright. I'm here." (pg. 36, 37)
A found poem from "the Book Thief" by Markus Zusak.

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