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Rick Feb 2018
I was born into construction, I know no other trade.
Im not very good at math, and my writings just the same.
I try to act, I try to sing but in the end I always seem right back where I began
I build the set, I cut the wood, and they're painted by my hand. Could I be another man, I know I choose not who I am, but I wish I could just understand if im a product of this land or am I free to choose my plan.
I will fail at my career, this is my fear. I will be like my father, broken and poor. There is only one door for me, the rest are locked and theres no key that i can see in sight.
Gowtham Ganni Feb 2018
this is the wood
that holds the axe
that cuts the tree
that creates the wood
that holds the axe
that cuts the tree
Colm Jan 2018
With horizons like shoulders
Stands the image of the self
In the self-perceived mind

Until called like ringing
The mountains asleep
Undisturbed in dew and time

So the woodsman knows and is awake
To the truest of nature
The societal eyes

And at the feeling of ever
Need it depart

He flies

Into the mountains to live a life spent alive
I've been reading too much E.E.
Evi Dent Halo Jan 2018
Unwinding, unraveling

Revelling in the intertwining,

Wood roots of winding, raveling

Wood unwinding, unraveling.

~

With it came

Wood rods and leaves, not understanding

Wanting to be together

Bound in understanding.

With purpose and movement of woodland wiring.

(Unwinding, and unraveling.)

~

Unwinding, unraveling

Back to the earth

Revelling in the intertwining

Wood roots of winding, raveling

Wood unwinding, unraveling.

~

Returned to the mother Queen

Mother Earth, of nature's dream

Woodland spirits sing to, and praise

To the wood Queen, Earth, they sing.
(theme: wood humanoid (spriggan) coming apart.)

FINV (Wood) v3 (12/17/17-12/26/17)
Florivee Jan 2018
Three shades of leaves are resting on my face, saving me from the warm touch of the sun while I'm basking in its tepidity. Take me, I mumbled. I'm tired. While coldness on my feet tells me I should shake and knock on some texture of wood so that it doesn't come true, the line between wishing I'm no longer here and holding on to the hope of every empty space I inhale, is paper-thin-- thin as a paper slightly saturated by water that sometimes I wish can drown these fears away.
b Nov 2017
The rift at my feet
almost made me forgot
how beautiful it was
to watch the band play on.
Colm Nov 2017
Rare metal doesn't substantiate
The substance within
Just as the height of a skyscraper is not the sky
But instead
Be just as you say you are
And am
Worth it
Atticus Nov 2017
5
no matter how hard i try

how many times i wash my hands

how many times i check the expiration date

how many times i knock on wood

                    five times five

repeat

                    five times five

repeat

                    five times five

repeat

                five times five
          
                             five times five...
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