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Johnny walker Jan 28
I'll light a candle for Helen
tonight In memory of her
and all the sacrifices she made to her children and
In world that didn't do her any favours that allowed her to suffer In pain robbed her of the ability to walk bit by bit her Independence eaten
till she hardly do anything for herself a once proud woman who guided
her children and me
through every day struggles called
Helen gave so much to the Catholic church who then turned their backs on this
the poor girl who had given her all to the
when she became unwell they became ashamed of her they would mocked  her the so-called men of God this all happened before I met her
for If I had been with her they would have had me to deal with I'm, not a great believer In what I call dog collars  
I'm proud of my wife and the strength and bravery she showed to us all when she knew she was
but she free of a world that was so cruel to her rest In peace my darling I'll see you In a little while
The Catholic Church turned It's back on my wife when she became unwell through overwork running around doing for the everything for the church the so-called men if
god ashamed of her
are supposed to be
my example;
my model;
my idol,
my wonderful,
my perfect,
my life-like-you example.
you are my
my don't,
my bad,
my no,
my devil,
my nobody,
my villain,
my don't-be-like-you.
What have you turned into?
What if I no longer want to be like you?
What if I don't like this you?
I still love you.
Don't ask me how,
'cause I don't know myself.
Why do I still love you?
What have you turned yourself into?
Where is your old self? The one that I love, or used to love...
Johnny walker Jan 10
All my live I've been clutching at straws but always seemed to have drawn the short
whatever did to whatever
I tried always the short straw for me, failed In almost all that I tried till the day I met
she the girl who turned my life around but the day I lost her since that
I feel I'm now drawing the short straw again so much was the love I had for her so guess I'll go back to clutching at straws
Life has been like clutching at straws always chose the short one
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
out of all the beautiful, vibrant, vivid colors
i am a bland, dull, uninspired hue
between the words in a book,
withered, dehydration grass,
or the color of a summer hare.
however, i’ve been told that i was once creative,
rain twisted oil spilled on cement,
poppies in a mid-afternoon sun,
or the tone of a summer goldfinch.
i wonder if it was the sun’s rays that desaturated my existence
i am the product of years worth of desaturation.
Nyx Oct 2018
The moment I turned
and walked away
I felt my heart break a little
He didn't chase

Slowly taking steps
Without looking back
I couldn't hear his footsteps
But I couldn't backtrack

I felt my feet getting heavy
dragging them along
Desperately wanting to run
Back to where I belong

Within his arms safely
Standing side by side
Contently drifting along
As gentle waves by the seaside

The happiest they've ever seen me
Most carefree I've ever been
I was completely in love
A world consisting of just me and him

Though a raging river stood
Between our hearts
And in the end I was
The one left behind in the dark

As I raised my head high
Marching along to a beat
I've learnt to smile yet again
At last I can feel complete

Time has passed over
And not once did he chase
But the moment he did
It was already to late

I grew tired of running
Trailing after him
Was it really to much effort
To try and run after me too?

When I got up
Letting go of his hand
he didn't try to stop me
I guess this was where he stands

I knew then
He doesn't love me
And he never will

We have reached our limits
He no longer needs me
I've given all that I can give
So no matter what happens now

I'm not turning back

If you spend all your time running after somebody else
And the moment you stop chasing them and turn to walk away
If they don't chase or even try to stop you
then they aren't worth it
You deserve so much more then that
Amanda Sep 2018
I love you, this will not work,
Because distance between sets us apart,
Pulls me further every day,
Adoration disappearing, fading from my heart.

You tumble into deep ditches,
Space and time lose meaning,
Dark night moving around,
Through blackness, senses careening.

So fragile are paper hearts,
Weightless in palms, we cry,
Extremely sad to let go
But sit here with head held high.

Reminiscing all you've shown me,
Past **** and lessons learned,
Is time the culprit stealing our laughter?
When did tables turn?

Years passed in a moment,
The fun once had fled,
Have to wonder where it ran off to,
It no longer lives in our bed.

It does not really make sense to me,
If you are wrong for me what's right?
If I'm not supposed to be thinking about you
Why are you in my head night after night?
If you asked me how many times you've crossed my mind I would say once, because you never really left.
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Small bumps speckle my body
and I will pick
and pick
and pick
at them until I know for sure
the sludge,
the growths,
and the imperfections
are no more than scabs and dried blood.
At least then I can tell you I got these spots from battling.
Speckled I’m the remince of insecurity
PoserPersona Apr 2018
Thy honey's taste turned sweet to sour,
  though continuing to stick
Ne'er would a starving old black bear
  indulge itself one lick.
my whithering roses
they are frozen

beautifully frozen
this fresh august freeze
my mind clears

them bolted doors
that locked closet
mother won't be happy
we have escaped
what beatings
my ******* father
never knew me

now they wish to sail these seas with me
has my ship not been battled upon
no wave has captured me
there are no let's to my endless waves
that we would come to ask ourselves
what is it you have offered
have you offered us understanding
have you offered us compassion
how much time have you peeled

when was your last true call to me
your hoarse whispers would make me
want to cling to you

turn the pages
without blinking
let's your
my whithering roses

what cheek
Bryan Oct 2017
Men have scoured the earth
In search of lesser women than you.
Wars and famine,
In veneration,
Have been stricken in pursuit
Of the likes of half your substance.

Lain waste, the kingdoms of men,
And religion alike
In the name of madonnas
A mere fraction of your awe.

Tearing **** through this earth,
Here you stand before me:
Never prostrate, but exhilerant!
Sparks flowing from your hairtips:
A woman scorned!

All for the adoration of a poet:
The subject of your wrath
For his perception.
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