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Anthony Mayfield Jun 2018
Down, down, down down.
What went around came back around.
The truth behind the smile is found.
So smile for me.
The identity of monstrosity has been unbound.
Now it’s down, down, down, down… down.

Down, down, down, down.
Feeling at home when you hear the wolves howl.
Alone, I own the lonely.
Why do you cry?
You should smile for me.
But everything is down, down, down… down… down.

Down, down, down, down.
The clock strikes red,
The blue lost its crown.
Just hide in your frown.
Come on and smile for me.
Then fall down, down… down… down… down.

Down, down, down, down.
What went around came back around.
I guess I’m the mayor of this dark down.
Smile…
No matter how high up we go, karma always comes back and brings us down until we're humbled.
A-McIntyre May 2018
the wolves whisper their dreams into the night sky, they roam the land in search of time. the moon is full, vibrating white electricity, making each coat of fur metallic and bright. the wind dances in delight, knowing what mysteries are held for this night. the majestic wolves hear a sweet melody in the distance, together they run, step for step, beat to beat they climb. they continue to speak to the sky, beautiful poems they write to the moon. there is no alpha, just one and one, an unspoken promise that is said and done, knowing they are gods of each other, they run side by side, still worshiping the ground as they move. the stream bubbles with expectant excitement, feeling the earths music through each drop. he ***** his head to the side, listening to each sprinkle of magic flowing around him. he looks at her, so beautiful, more so than a diamond, more so than a ruby, even better than gold, his soul speaks to her soul. his breath is dependent on hers, his blood flows for her. they continue their trek, through the calming hills. she would never leave him, he is her essence, together they follow the sound of life. aware of the nearness of each other, aware of the flow of energy between them, they carry forth. nearer, and nearer they come, the sounds slow as they speak another poem, to the moon, to each other and in reply to earths' song. together they come upon a wide open land, they are wrapped in the moons glow, the streams excitement, and the mountains peaceful hue. she tilts to him, and bows to her king, the pounding in her heart matches his. he bows too, ready for her hand, ready to begin, ready for forever;where they will roam their peace filled meadow of love, life and the music of eachother.
cait-cait May 2018
i am holding an axe...

empty towers stand tall in snow
-
yet
still i climb ,
(each step) —

like
a toy upon a shelf
(i am freezing)/

when
you rip the stuffing out of
me
and try to sew me
shut ,

but the
wound is not healing
(it never will)

and
the walls get stained with nicotine::
(i miss when they were white)

when i come back to, i am lost -
scared
(because it is dark)
.

i
try to howl ,
gurgle instead:
and then
i start to weep-
(and my tears all freeze like little pearls) .
.

when i look for them again,
(those girls)

they have turned into
wolves
(i remember my axe)

and they look me in my eyes —
glimmering//

so
spit on me, again,
i say

i
dare you —
this time,
i am not afraid to bite.

(they do not come back for me)
.
the other title for this poem was “i look at you or maybe you look at me.” I let people on my instagram vote which one they liked better. This is about feeling alone in a battle against many different people you care about. I spent a long time working on it.
Paylei Rose May 2018
You used to tell me how innocent I was
How no matter what I would always be innocent
Until you hurt me
I took my innocence and turned it wild
I now can move around without someone telling me how to live
You took away my innocence the minute you left my home
I know run with the wolves
Everything you told me I was is gone
I've gone wild

I've gone wild
And you can't stop me anymore
I found someone new
Someone that won't call me innocent
They embrace my dark side like it's their own
They pick me up when I fall down
I don't have to be gentle anymore
I can run with the wolves
Vierra Apr 2018
The world turns on a Shepard’s staff.
He, of whom the Shepard is, is a guide through the treachery and trickiness of the thick weeds.

The foothills have been passed and the plains of this earth is now the marked destination to rest. We eat there. Beware
the wolves

The sheep have been calm this journey, and it’s lax for the collie, our animal ally.
He is prepared at a beckoning and that is all that is required for herds safety. He comes and goes throughout the brush to scout and prepare reconnaissance. Again, a ally.

The sun moves slowly and eventually rests past the horizon. Twilight and on a clear night, spreckels of stardust show their face over the herd and friendlies. The wolves do not bother the fire tonight.

We rest with a relative ease.
We wake and begin the day.
Pedestal talk from sheep
Grace Apr 2018
The hallway seems longer, you try not to hint at the darkness creeping inside your vision, or the judging orbs turning around to face you.

Soles of your footwear trudge upon the tile floor, each step calling them to sink their teeth into your soul.

Their bites leave scars, eternal memories of the fights that happened on the battlefield.

Continuous barks and snarls poke and **** your ears ceaselessly, keep moving.

Your locker bent and dented, the countless repeating pounces
and slams coated the rusted metal door.

Turn around, SLAM, laying on the floor covering your ****** head, a coward.

Howls of laughter sound, they circle around waiting for an opportunity to finish their hunt.

Don't attack, but surrender,
too scared to hold your ground.

You’re weak,
You're useless,
You're stupid,
You're ugly,
You're worthless,
You are nothing.

Each word, every growl, added to your collection of everlasting pain no remedy could cure. Look up one last time,

Bystanders watch like stiff oak trees in the forest, acting
with the current of the wind, bending at will, standing there as an innocent life is taken
by the hands of the vicious, heartless predators.

But the only thing learned is they are the wolves, and you were their prey.
I wrote this poem based off of what feelings I had about bullying, about how I see them. They are wolves they hunt you down until you can't breathe. I've been bullied all my life so I let my feelings out.
Luke Mar 2018
Black coat and silver eyes,
what dances within,
you know but keep quiet,
your coat dances on wind.

Paws so silent,
no tracks left behind,
are you a ghost,
why must you hide?

The answer became clear,
upon the twilight,
you raised your head,
pulled back.

Releasing your jaw,
shoulders relaxed,
you let out a cry,
no reply came or followed.

The sound was mournful,
could it be that,
you are alone here,
in this world we call home?

Crackling twigs underfoot,
burrs caught in your coat,
fire and pain in your eyes,
what do you hide?

You want to fit in,
you seek only companionship,
but always you leave,
never have you stayed.

In the dead of night,
once again,
I hear you cry.
b Mar 2018
if the world were ever fair
they'd let me build a tree house
to lose my mind in.

and my pretend children
might build a counterweight
to pull the sun down.
betroth it in front of me
to keep the wolves away
at the gates, far from the crops
they tell me ive harvested.
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