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heavily laden clouds*
hang their brows over the town
*readying to unload
Ami Shae Mar 2016
Walked along a dusty dirt road
hoping to find a place
where I could just unload
this heavy burden of grief
that weighs down on me
and before long
I found myself
perched under a huge shade tree--
the wind blew strong
tossing the branches and leaves about
and I kept hoping somehow
this tree so huge and stout
would look inside of me
and somehow help
to just set me free.

Trees know far more
than we humans do, you know--
so often trees stand tall and proud
and continue to leaf out and grow
while we humans stupidly
continue to destroy and wreck the land
and all the while the trees
just keep standing so proud and grand
--so is it any wonder that I dare
to hope this huge tree will help
that it will somehow care
about all the burdens I carry now?
I suppose it's too much to ask
of this sacred gift of nature right now...
I truly love and respect trees...
solEmn oaSis Dec 2015
what is life???
Life without a music
is just like death without a witness!
but again what is life?Is it the journey
of destiny or ain't it funny to be ha-
ppy go lucky?I don't
wanna  be like a
trigger-happy,
what is life for those
who care but lose it?
no feeling of pride,
fellowship, loyalty,
lack of enthusiasm,
devotion and honor!
" no man is an island "
according to John Donne.
but for me-WE ARE ONE is what
*
I ah really want to EMPHASIZE!!!

"we can not talk
peace and have
a gun"
says
by
*
FM
#shapeofapparition101

In only one head shot...
the spirit of the body
would probably
travel to the air
just like a bullet.
The same as  this
magazine,,,our life
loaded as it begun
yet gradually gone
everytime we strum
the trigger of rebellion
Pax May 2015

In poetry I unload to explode
To break free from all the dynamite
I usually kept hidden
My passive nature makes me resistant
to its pollutants.
Sometimes they’re more like landmines
Awaiting for someone
Who stomp the wrong buttons
Then detonate
And explode between my shouts
And cries.

In all honestly
No matter how resistant I am to become resilient
my core is too vulnerable to crumble
By a simple backslash of toxic tongues
And suddenly I fall in my knees to simply walk away
No battle is worth an effort
When you know it’s just pride
Battling himself.

The poem speaks for itself, but I just want to confirm yes, I tend to bottled-up my feelings. That is why sometimes I easily get depressed. I don’t speak-out a lot or just careful not to hurt anyone with my words. So in poetry I rant almost everything so that it will not eat me into depression.

Its hurts me when I look back, to those people who say mean things to me that I simply ignore because it’s not worthy to argue anymore, they tend to get stuck on their own opinion, too closed to have an open mind.

— The End —