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Madeon Nov 2
When the time comes to tire,
I swallow the sun
in a single gulp,
while birch sap
slowly sings within me –
a song of light,
a song of night.
Yanamari Feb 6
The King sits on his throne
After another long day of work
Resting
Providing for the people
Deciding for the people
His hand reaches to the outskirts of his kingdom
To call his reign tyranny would be absurd
For who would question a leader who benefits most from their own decisions?
And who wouldn't be happy to have to toil a little more when mistakes are made and his lack of care becomes purposeful?
And when his entitlement to the land that he tires himself for day in and day out means that you cannot question his perfect authority, cannot begin to even suggest discussing his non-existent faults?
For people these days do not want to hear advice, do not wish to work hard enough, are lazy, and if these words come out as harsh when you're trying your hardest, that means you can't handle the truth and no other truth exists but that of the one and only royal Highness.

For what plants grow under shadow,
And what trees stand tall without roots firm in the ground?

What should the King do when the people lose their will and turn their backs on what security that has been offered to them
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2023
We're finally here
Driving long miles tired
Arriving safely
About long road trips
A Simillacrum Sep 2019
Lose a tire? Tires,
they come and go.
Do you have a grip?

The wheel works, but,
what's the point
if the blue sparks fly?

Some words stuck
well inside this
sternum of mine
just need be said.

What's the point of
you and I, then?
Are we always safe?

What's the point of
this fear of life
when I'll soon be
nothing more than dead?

Hold your eyes, then,
til the heart arrives.
Sparks cannot fill
me up inside with dread.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
My tire was flat...
But only
on the bottom.
ms reluctance Apr 2019
If I open my eyes, I will be awake.
I am awake; I don’t want to open my eyes.
Even though dawdling in bed is unwise
it is a bad habit I have yet to break.
If I were a morning person, I would shake
off sleep’s sluggish cloak and arise
fresh as a daisy; my arms open to the skies
and greet sunrise without the bellyache.
NaPoWriMo Day 20
Poetry form: Octave
Jean Jul 2018
My heart is on fire
My eyes admire
They called it dire
And I must admit, this plan has backfired

For my body has tired
And I am forced retire
To the fact that I cannot be a liar

For I am sick
Love sick for you
my yellow
basket went
mash and
my tissue
twinges thee
there on
ring but
bard in
mine 'twas
graft that
mud came
a peace
fulfillment that
didn't regret
intake of
grizzly and
movable feast
a sweet
young thing
now fine
young cannibal
but least
theirs feast
of image
while beast
is fair
in whether  
still foregone
in yesterdays
why there's
peace of
mind again
in wiles
of me
a Girl Scout season
Chloe Chapman Mar 2017
people bore me                               loneliness bores me
people drain me                             loneliness drains me
people tire me                                 loneliness tires me
people misunderstand me            loneliness means I misunderstand myself
people ignore me                           loneliness is the epitome of being ignored
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