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Carved stone for all to read
You cannot read it though
Feel it taught all over my skin
You just touch what you WANT to know
It could not be more obvious
Written all over my face
Choose to remain blind to the words
For you in the first place
If needing me to translate further
Not sure how else I can
Emotions simple to decipher
You don't want to know who I am
Written 2-8-21
Bekah Halle Dec 2023
Pen on paper is like breath in my lungs.
It is my write to live;
Describing, birthing, embracing.
Permission to give.

But the pen used ineptly,
Causes death.
Like throwing my pearls to swine,
Snuffs breath.
There is no poetry that will stop being written because every day a young poet is born and love is born every day.
Indonesia, 11th April 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Ann M Johnson Nov 2020
I feel the need to get away to another place in time
I indeed have you on my mind
If I am in the mood for romance I will dance to your tune
I hope to meet you again soon
If I need to spice up my life with mystery or suspense you will me my guide
When I need to learn a historical fact  you will happily oblige
The sky is the limit of the adventures in store for me when I am with you
I have had the joy of discovering you at a young age
You sometimes appear alone
You sometimes come in trilogy's
You sometimes are contained in many volumes
You share with me some sonnets, poems or prose
You are held within a blanket of various colors and textures
  You are at times  in pristine condition or weathered and worn
  You are at times leather bound no matter how you are arrayed
   I have not strayed from my love of the written word
    I will take another look and pick up and read my favorite book
Words never said
Only written down
Never seen by anyone
Never noticed
The smile on my face
It's only fake
My happy attitude only comes from force
Leave it to me
To see a tool
A box cutter
And only think about stealing the blade
Not for cutting a box though
Written words
Words unspoken
Silence is the loudest scream
Tell that to everyone else
Written words
Not on paper but skin
Written words
Not with ink but blood
Scars forming
Never to go away again
Don't forget to purchase your very own copy of my book, "Digging Graves in Flower Beds," by Alexandria Grigsby
Link in Bio!
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