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Poetic T Feb 2020
We dropping it low before
            it became came trendy..

We flying higher than any man
                  could shot us low

below..

We never lost control,  lights below

                                about to be dimmed


Dropping our attitude,  
                   we showed

that we could drop it harder

than any man an then some more.

Flying with our crew we were the angels
               dropping our vengeance below.

No one was safe when we flew,
    we were angles of death, of life.

We flew when others couldnt.

Our names were avenging beauties,
          and we kissed all below

with the fire of kisses falling from above.
World War 2 woman flying planes and dropping there kisses below kissing the ground in fire..
Quintin G Feb 2019
Bloodshed on the battlefields of your mind.
Love, is not revenge, for ***** sake!

To take a life
In your hand
Have that power, and

Strife.

Strife between the battle of love and vengeance.
This is not love; it had been once.
A Lifetime ago.

Manifestation of something sinister.
No olive branch carried by the sincere dove.
Insidiously creeping.
Grab hold.

       “Ready for weeping?”

Aims of destruction; No mercy.

A God fallen.
You’re next.
Sarah Sep 2018
They
They all deserve to die
To suffer as much as a brother who died
As much as a mother who was burned alive
As much as the nations they turned to ash
They
But they who?
The children of ancestors who's long been gone
Innocents beheaded for the crimes of the old
Lives sacrificed to vengece a crime occured decades ago
They
They who?
A question that people hardly try to look up an answer to
For it's answer too has been lost
In the graves of those who commited the wrongs
Yet
"they" remain
Yet the pain remains
So does anger, so does vengence
As bright as a burning flame
People aren't defined by the crimes of their governments, or else, we'll all be criminals now.
Betty Redd Jul 2016
Ashes bleeding from the inner chambers of her heart
shocked by his actions laughing at her marriage

arranged by his mother was a plan fora grandchild
Cadmus did not want any child even of his own.
He thought each one of them were a bunch of noisy
pests.
His heart was in fleeing this marriage he been trapped
in by his mother.
Cadmus had to stay married for a year then divorce his wife.
He planned on doing that very thing.

A marriage contract was in place warning if he wanted out after
the first year of marriage.

He would be left with nothing and no place to live.
His mother had done this when he was but a child in Baharian.

His uncle also made sure it was completely legal for his mother to
receive her dowry at her marriage to cadmus father.

A year went by Hans went up stairs to start packing his things.
His mother handed him the contract which he throughly read.
His face was furious to be put in that kind of trap.

He sat down to plan how he could continue to live this way and have money too.
I will go to work for my uncle and learn the publishing business.
Cadmus went through the steps of the business and became very good at it.


Five years later he made his own fortune and then divorced his wife.
She was better off with out him. He liked the blonde haired blue eyed woman
. He did meet one but he out and out lied to her of his love for her. All he wanted from her was trash stories. One morning she was looking at all the emails over the years from him.

Blue eyes was done with him. He was never coming to be with her in
any life time.
She totally deleted him from out of her life.
Two years later she was waiting for a cab to go to the airport.

Blue eyes had written and published her first book.
When she got on the plane there he looked twenty years older. Blue eyes just walked right past him with no notice,
When the plane landed in New York blue eyes got her things walked past him again into the airport.She bent to pick up her luggage and thats when he saw her for the first time  in person. Cadmus this time
was the one left being alone. Blue eyes looked up just in time to see her husband and daughter while giving them each a hug full of love.
Liz G Jun 2015
It was the summer of ‘83 and my hair was blonde like you liked it
I wasn’t anything you didn’t like
My nails were that aquamarine blue you said you liked after we sat on the pier
And I learned to make your favourite breakfast after your mother made it for us the first time I came over
I was for you, I was made for you, I was yours
But then that sunny Saturday evening just before sunset
I walked down to the pier to paint you the prettiest picture
And I saw her wrapped around your bones like our first time
I saw you gaze into her eyes like they reflected the constellations we would name together on a Friday night
And I ran straight home to dye my hair red
To paint my nails black because I knew it reminded of you of the car your father left in
And the last time you’d come over for breakfast, I made sure to burn your toast like you burned my heart
I saw you the week after with her, nails painted blue, hair curled the way you liked mine and I laughed
I was for you, I was made for you, but no more
No more

— The End —