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Regina May 2020
mortgage was half paid
punched the clock
global virus roared
Julio Márquez May 2020
When you look at someone’s eyes what do you really see?
Does it depend on our ability to love such person?
Do we have to involve love or hate?
What about eyes we have not seen so close to us?
Is it a window of opportunity to our souls
To expand our expectations?
If we had a choice not to look at those eyes
With such a desperate need for knowledge
Could we?
A look at someone’s eyes can tell us many, many things that could open or close windows that could be beneficial or hurtful to us. Please be aware! Perhaps is the last decision you could make that will either start a lifetime or end one.
CLAIRE NOTEA May 2020
It gets better, it just does.

You meet him and he teaches you to heal.
He teaches you that, regardless of what she has done, you are beautifully kind.

He rubbishes the critic she put in there.
He shows you the worth you did not see.
He demonstrates that we are in control of our own behaviour, and you are not accountable for hers.

He shows you what you can achieve and let’s you soar. And he does it with truthful pride. He shows you that you deserve more for yourself.

He loves you with all his heart and doesn’t let her smother your light. He teaches you how to stand up for yourself.

You are no damsel and he is no hero. He will show you how resilient you really are, you just can’t see for the trees.

So keep dancing. He won’t be long.

For once you fall in love with him, you fall in love with yourself.
Mrs Anybody May 2020
they always say
'go out
meet new people
you'll fall
in love again
when you
forget them'

but they
never tell you
how to forget them
also check out my other poems!  :)
Cecil Miller May 2020
The blanket of night
Covers the land.
The silky smooth flesh
Covets the hand.
The sound of trumpets
Plays from afar
In the twinkling light
Of a falling star.

I hear a name.
It sounds like my own,
And my voice that beckons,
Though I am alone.
The coursing of blood
Inside my veins
Is my only companion,
My only companion.

Who moves within my mind?
Who is with me, not all of the time?
Who is sheltered inside of my thoughts?
Come speak to me, speak to me now.

I sit up in bed.
I reach for the lamp.
I've sweat so much.
The sheets are damp.
Do I hear laughter
Out in the hall?
Is something else coming
When the darkness falls?

The crackling thunder
Rips through the sky.
A roaring of wind,
Like my nerves, on high.
Nobody can hear,
But I this voice in my head.
It shakes to my core.
It's heavy like lead.

Who moves within my mind?
Who is with me, not all of the time?
Who is sheltered inside of my thoughts?
Come speak to me, speak to me now.


Who moves within my mind?
Who is with me, not all of the time?
Who is sheltered inside of my thoughts?
Come speak to me, speak to me now.
I was bored, so I regressed. The results were these lyrics.
basil May 2020
my teardrops
are hanging on strings
and you pull them
just right
mother, you have always been the puppetmaster. and i wish i could cut my strings.

one day i'll have the scissors. and when that day comes, i'm not ever looking back. so enjoy this power while you can.

05.01.2020
Ruheen Apr 2020
~

The bad parts of an experience are what make the best stories.
No one wants to hear you say 'I had a nice time. It was great.' And so on.
They don't want to hear the same thing over and over again.
They want a story no one else can tell them.
If all you experience is good things, you won't have a story to tell.


~
My teacher said this to me once. I agree.
Also, this is a kind of explanation for Underrated. It's why I think demons have a story to tell; why they're more interesting.
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