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everything's so white, clean
when life's not like that
Karijinbba May 28
When red roses can't bloom
in red silent painful gloom
offer white and pink peonies
with heavenly perfume.
Asleep yet lifeless
Blue eyed baby brother
David's tiny beloved.
His moonlight hands tied.
My hair ribbon held them
in prayer gesture of doom tight.
A dreadful loss invaded me
his life force taken that trauma
stayed a lifetime.
Mother warned do not weep!
Two pangs of pain at five
dead silence my only friend was
silenced speechless in shock
I adored my dad dead shot.
My family taken one by one.
Brother was mine months old.
His life was covertly taken
left neglected in the cold.
How could I hold him
be Mom to baby or feed him?
I was tiny twig six year old,
   fed crumbs for months abandoned
with covert human predators
hating orphans to death.
Wounded at seven came my turn.
Saved by charity with surgery
as I had ran away with nuns.
My sister Delfina was three
luckier then me safer
with maternal aunt gone
but not for long.
In search of love on Earth
I found only misery, betrayal pain.
The predator blackmailed by
his Greek sadistic Medeas
aware of his poisoning
strangling a predator's darkness
sold me out to them all.
He surrended my toddler to be
burned with chemicals!
and my new born with arsenic.
Haralambos Mantalozis
with Kiriaki, her cousin
evil aunt in Piraeus Greece.
26 narcissist sociopaths
He put red roses on my hands;
announing my baby girls
were both dead.
Red roses meant torture!
Betrayal deceit mockery of love
My foster Mom Rose loved me
but just enough to teach malignant
Leonora a lesson on sharing
was butchered on Mother's day
1971 by her bio-jealous Judea
using her grandmother to ****,
to trash me to her attorney mate.
It was Mothers Day in Mexico.
My red roses dropped
with me to the floor!
As the old murdering witch
pushed me into
the macabre bedroom
sadistically forced to look.
mother gone
Red roses mean only death
So please celebrate me
only aromatic Peonies
white and pink will do.
As red roses cause me still
unbearable pain of ugly sin.
I saved whatever was left of me
and my beautiful three daughters
Elena Rose in Greece
And in USA,more jealousy
my baby girl newborn Jeanette
here too victimized
by two jealous habitual drug users.
sterile nurse predators again!
made themselves a certificate
of life birth with my baby girl
and hunt me down a life time
expecting to profit big
murdering me.
Look, I have survived till now
many more covert attempts:
even trackers under my car
weird 2019 staged car accident!
****** for hire continues.
IHSS help for senior isn't help.
Providers from hell thieving
Guatemalan ilegal impostors
Lazy commiting fraud
poisoning water in 2021
thinking I will go
to hospital sickened feeling entitled
luring my left over few valuables.
and stimulus savings
No I am not cursed never
the evil doers on path are cursed
That's why Jesus said
to pray for our enemies
they are needing the prayers
from their victims mostly.
This is the dark face
of America the great apple
where even roses
remain dead silent eons
with painful memories
of deadly secrets.
Poor roses even they
are trashed
becomIng a symbol
of unspeakable evil
Human predator enemy
against innocent
beautiful human beings
Bright as heavenly light!
Envied by the dark
in bad people's hearts.
By Karijinnbba
All Rights-54-2021.
In Japan they are used as a symbol of bravery, honor and good fortune. Generally though, peonies symbolize prosperity, good luck, love and honour

Although commonly known as a symbol of beauty, white peonies also represent shame. Because of this, they make a great gift if you want to sincerely apologize, ask for forgiveness from someone for something you did, or simply express, “I messed
FC Azaele May 8
White walls
Does anybody see them too?
Locked in
as I am in my head
no way of escape
no way of death

White walls...
No single mark, No mess
It's so bright
perhaps for me,
this is death
Petrichor May 5
         You've turned into dirt.

Twisted away in fragile positions,
You've turned into dirt.
          How does it feel to be this vulnerable?

To be plucked from your home, and bought with dirt to be sold off to the husband who forgot his wife's birthday?

To be called 'beautiful', only to be left rotting away?
To sit beside a bed of 'beautiful' red roses, who think they'll be safe forever. To know they'll turn into you, you who has moulded into dirt.

These eyes fall on you now,
   they feel guilt,
      they feel remorse,
(they feel happy?)
          they feel like a murderer.

They run to drench you with water.

                           The poor white tulips,
                                              and the poor pink roses
                     will you be fixed from this phase of dirt?
Here is to those bouquets of flowers the lucky ones received.
Perhaps, you were lucky,
perhaps the flowers were not.

PS. I've written a poem after a year so it's definitely not my best work, not even close. Perhaps as I continue, it may get better?
Mark Wanless Apr 30
tree in bloom white
flowers symbol of mind
forever young
Hollie Apr 30
I want to love someone as deeply as I love you
Moreso deeply if it helped me forget you

To forget the touch of your skin
Or your uncoordinated lips
Your white car
That made you work harder to get it up a hill

I want to forget you
To forget the first time we met
The way your hand and smile
Fit with mine
When I first laughed and smiled
Happily like a child

No I must forget you
I have to
Because forgetting you means we can both be happy
And I want to forget you

I don't know exactly when I fell head over heels for you
And you made me so happy
I guess you still do

Maybe I don't want to love someone else
Or moreso deeply to forget you
The truth is
You haven't left my mind since
And I could never forget you
Sa Weol May Apr 24
I pray for a lucid dream tonight,
In a sky colored carpet floor,
Seasoned with bluish tulips
on the ground,
In a pure white long dress,
decorated with pearls,
with happy people beside,
Seeing tall pine trees,
With a calming cloudy weather,
Bits of sunshine
that balances the mood of the setting,
Singing behind the white cottony curtain,
Someone's listening
and waiting for me,
Curtain opens,
Ended the song,
Take down the microphone,
I see someone from a bit distance,
A sudden music played,
That made everyones happy tears fell
and touched,
I walk towards where the man is,
Blurred, but as I go forth to him,
Little by little,
He is getting clearer
From afar, I know
That it is you,
At the end
Of the altar.

cassandra Apr 18
your mind
like canvas
pure white
till you get hurt
and paint it
deep black
on white paper
the ink sheds itself,
destroys all voidness,
writing appears,
something is read,
after your death you send it,
to the living
to always be told
from generation to generation.
Indonesia, 14th April 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
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