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Ronald J Chapman Jan 2018
Eight cups of coffee,
A long night, waiting for love to come home again...
A cold moon is looking down on a bitter Soul,
Dust bunnies are making love in the moonlight.

Always waiting, never seeing you,
Bitterly cold, lonely nights, looking for your ghost at the
bottom of every empty cup,
Painting love poems with bittersweet, coffee grounds.

Still looking back,
asking, when will you come home?
Looking at a closed door,

Should I remain here waiting, with an empty heart?

Still unable to forget you,
can't leave this place,
eyes are always searching, cannot see past my broken heart.

Or move on,

Opening, a closed door to a new life and new dreams,
filling my heart with new love, new hope,
and say goodbye to my lost love, forever...

Copyright © 2018 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Soundcloud poetry recitation
https://soundcloud.com/ron-chapman-3/coffee-grounds
I'm awake at 3 in the morning
Thinking about you... again
And soon I'll be asleep
Dreaming of you... again
I'm not fooling anybody when I say
I'm not missing you... again
Because I am,
I'm not going to lie... again
Is it wrong that I do?
It is and it isn't
Because I loved you
But I was a fool... again
And when I stay up thinking of you
I fall in love with you... again

-AJT
ejb Jan 2018
I forgot how many stars were in the sky
so I drove out of the city to see them
and I looked up so far, for so long,
that my neck cramped up

I saw a shooting star and wished for you
and I hope that somewhere
you are wishing on that shooting star for me too
07/08/16
Nichole Jan 2018
Were going to the movies,
Happy as a child,
Seeing it's mother for the first time.
Words I can not find them.
Wishing I could make this poem better.
Pondering on my last poems lost and what if.
But were going to the movies!


........joy................ ... .. . (crawls in a ball)
If you like it let me know :)
She Writes Dec 2017
Anxiety;
Killing me slowly
Caged;
A prisoner to my mind wholly

Enslaved;
By the thoughts in my head
Wishing;
To finally wake up dead
Colm Dec 2017
I’m torn between sharing the mass
Of stones I’ve dropped to the bottom of the well
And keeping the precious water supply all to myself

Because it’s not against my beliefs to drink
Or to share with someone a drink as well

But to pollute my own most trusted source of outpouring
Will take a confidence in me
The kind which ought but doesn’t always swell
Obsessed with water. Also this - My publish poems option is erroring - So I'm working out of my drafts - Tell Elliot please. (:
She Writes Dec 2017
If I could wake up tomorrow
And be someone new
I’d hope to be someone
That didn’t care about you

A person who wakes up
And smiles at the sun
Not a recluse
That hides from fun

Someone who looks in the mirror
And values themself
Not insecure
Loathing herself

I wish to be someone
Free as a bird
Not someone who cares
What others have heard

But when I wake up
I will still be me
Hoping and wishing
One day I’ll be free
Olivia Ventura Dec 2017
Why do I wish you were standing there
running your hands through my hair
Whispering compliments in my ear
Promising me that you’ll always be here
Listening to our favorite song
swaying, together, all the while long
Feeling your pulse against my cheek
Feeling my knees become a little weak
I could stay here for hours with you
Because I believe what you said was true
That people were made with a part of them missing
Only to find it in someone worth kissing
this is dangerous
too many times
i wish –
under the bed
on the bed
at my closet
but nobody told me
i'd never get better
it scares me –
*wishing
an erasure poem I made
from the book "Will Grayson, Will Grayson"

© Cyrille Octaviano, 2017
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