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Arlo Miller Aug 2015
At the end of the day when I'm spent and expired,
and all energy has clocked out and retired.
I long for your warmth and tender embrace,
my weary eyes to rest upon your face.
A caretaker that without I cannot thrive.
I don't need you to live, but to make me alive. Alive
I can change the world with what you help me to feel.
You are fuel and rest, rejuvenation, zeal.
When my strength is gone and my mind is drifting to sleep,
know that my last few thoughts my mind struggles to keep,
are of you and my family that share my name,
and lastly, how soon they will be one and the same.
I love you. Goodnight.
For my bride to be Diana Ray Poulin
Raiford Brown IV Aug 2015
In a weary series of redundant repetition.
I feel less of a hearty player, but more of
a lethargic field whos reapings are to far from succession.
Evolution happened somewhere along the
way.
Somewhere along the way we forgot there's nothing more powerful than the verbosity of our name.
The Tinkerer Aug 2015
From the struggles, you retreat
Once strong, you faced them,
Now the fear, it breaks you
Makes you weak.
This weakness, it torments.
Tearing you, Tearing your very BEING

Once a warrior,
You'd take the challenge,
Lived on the wire.

Now though, you cower.
When the challenge comes around,
You'll only hide, run for safety, for cover.

It was a good run.
The future's bleak though,
At the twilight of your life,
The battle's worn you down.
All you look forward to now,
Is the tranquility brought,
By the *Eternal Night
Well, this morphed form something in my head, to the letters you read. The end of life itself is like the end of a battle. You're tired, you'd rather not fight another minute. And you're waiting for when you can finally lay to rest.
I can feel you here
When I'm alone and weary;
Even in silence,
Words are unnecessary.
I know that I'm not alone.
Why? Why?
I have no one left
All of my friends are gone
Am I a bad guy?
I thought I was a saint
My friends ignore me
They forget me
Forget that I have no one
My tears in restraint
I can't cry when it rains
There is no point
They laugh behind my back
Soley, I exist
To stand against the grains
My ashes fall in the snow
I know, it's the end of the road
The hero hangs his cape
The villain grabs the noose
My dearest one doesn't know
That I am so utterly alone
She doesn't know my sorrow
My ink filled tears
Stain the snow
My blood smears the wet stone
The sky is crying
And the ground is frozen
Soley, I am alone
I kneel to the white ground
Better spent dying
Life is a tough game
I never wanted to play it
I have no hands to help me up
I've had enough
Please don't hate my name
A note scrawled on the desk
My initials dot the goodbye
I'm sorry everybody
But I tried
Living this life, so grotesque
I thought I had a glass heart
Shattered because I'm a fallen fighter
The cracks in my armor
Prove I'm a survivor
But I'm torn apart
So long
This bleeding narrator
Is lost
Oh, well
Goodbye, off to my tomb where I truly belong
Ever felt so alone, You were the last person on Earth? Well you aren't, you committed suicide a few days ago.  Welcome to oblivion.
Test me on my strength
My knowledge
My skills
But do not presume to test me
On the fiber and fabric of my soul
Judge me not
With your dull and glassy eyes
Judge me not
With a mind devoid of original thought
Judge me not
By a standard I never agreed to be a part of

I am no better
I am no bulwark of creative genius
I am no more than a boy
Trying to full the shoes of his idols
But at least the effort I put forth
Is an honest effort
Born only of my fractured mind
And weighted heart

Silly are the words
I put to paper or record
And strange are the thoughts
I voice on a daily basis
More so disturbed are the ones unspoken or unwritten
More so are the fears
That none will be remembered

Human
My mind must make itself known
And my heart must yearn for more
Must I then be tested
On how much I can supress these vital needs
Must I then be judged
On how closely I follow the tide

I tire of the tide
I tire of trying to be different
I tire of tests
Judgements
Fears
Joys
I am human
And I am weary
NOLWAZI JOUBERT May 2015
It has been a while i waited.
I have discovered the little hope i have,
Why try be to better when all  you have done is reject me.
You speak in riddles and forget.

I once was the one who was your pillar,
everyday i would be that shoulder you leaned on,
but today i have become that rejected corner-stone.

Is it me or is it what you missing?
I have watched you everyday,
becoming bitter than am i afraid to talk.
You threw away that little bit of me that kept me happy and left me weary like a rejected corner-stone
Mike Essig May 2015
The lonely silence of five in the morning.

The cat sprawls upon the bookcase
dreaming whatever cats dream.

Only the waking birds sing out.

Another morning in the same room.

In Zen they say: sit where you are.
External circumstances don't matter.

But I am sorely vexed by this room,
this quiet, these walls, reality.

I do not wish to wake to this again.

In Vietnam, my first conscious thought
upon waking was, "****, I'm still here."

Once more it has come to that.

A prison is anyplace you don't want to be
and can't leave. I am locked in prison.

Age and circumstance have sentenced me.

Nowhere to run; nowhere to hide.

Only the difficult admonition: sit where you are.
And settling upon the cushions, I try and try.

If you know of anyone who needs the services
of a broken, old, poor, poet monk, call me.

   ~mce
Seriously.
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