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Francie Lynch Nov 2020
"Mr. Biden, tear down this wall," pled Juan.
Tear it down before the Republican lunatics make it a monument, or worse, a shrine to their messianic buffoon.
Lowkie Nov 2020
-
I built walls so high
To keep the ones that hurt me outside
And ended up being alone on the inside
After a while I got used to being alone on this side
Afraid of hurting again so I hide
-
I pushed people away
So that they don't see the real me
Keeping all these feelings inside
Because I don't know who to trust
Eventually it started eating me up inside
And I felt empty inside
While smiling on the outside like everything is fine
-
I lived in my own little bubble
Minding my own, I didn't want trouble
But you noticed me
And the walls started to crumble
You wanted someone to talk to
So I lend you my ear
You said all the right words I needed to hear
And all I could do was mumble
-
Lowkie ®
Vaampyrae Nov 2020
Since you've knocked onto my rusty door
Waddling through the treacherous mazes
Hidden inside icy walls

Now you have seen it all
You have shown me
I have no more need for walls

Only for you
The door has been left wide open.

Welcome home.
4
3
2
1

A special night with you.
Mysterious feather
Yarn, Pom-pom *****
Decorate the mirror on the wall
Embellished lamps
Antique silver pocket watch
The clock on the wall
Clocked 40 years
The family portraits
From the time
When the family lived together
Under the ancestral roof
Until, the young found their calling
In far off lands
Denise Uy Oct 2020
The wall is my punching bag
and your face is my inspiration.
Even when my knuckles sag,
there is no hesitation.

I have bruises on my fingers
but it is not the wall's fault.
It is the surge of my anger's
and they make my fists stronger.

The poison you poured in me
is overflowing the bottle.
Every punch the wall meets
is every sip of my struggle.

The pain is sinking in
and it feels worse than the bruises.
It's buried deeper within
so I dig but it refuses.

The wall is nothing
to what festers inside.
My punches do nothing
and there is nowhere to hide.

The disease is within me
and it is thriving in my mind.
The only way out is nowhere in sight.
I looked to my fists to set myself free
but my fists have no eyes
so I cannot see.

Now, my arms deserve to rest.
I'll even bid them a good night
because today won't be the worst
and I'll need them another time.
Påłpëbŕå Sep 2020
|
Alone and around;
Without making a sound,
Sit I still here and now,
Wondering- How?
I've been so lonely all this long,
Believing that it would make me strong.
Yet, I check for messages and calls,
But my phone doesn't chime at all!
Paul Idiaghe Oct 2020
here, time is a truck
with waxed wheels. but it
keeps pacing, keeps paving the path
to destruction; in dreams, I pluck

myself from its sheath, let it sweep
over me like a tide; on the
ground, I gather my garments,
as stones and seashells, slip

into their ethers, where eternity
waits. here, pyramids don’t converge
as they taper; they tunnel
like a lair that has lost its lucidity

& I’m wandering within their walls,
clueless, clouded—a captive child
eager to escape into enlightenment,
or another dream, where bliss befalls.

this is a paper-dream gobbling
reality—down to its
bone, bruised bare & bleeding.
iamgone Sep 2020
the walls
rotting
halls
empty
I am stuck
in the place
I can relate to the most
this house doesn't get much bigger
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