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#both
What is old? What is new? Who am I? Who are you? Old is former New is latter, I am me You are you, I couldn't define it, If only i knew Me or you, Old or new This is our identity, How could I know? One is old, One is new How is this authentic? How is this real? We are both, Old and new.
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Dec 1, 2025
Dec 1, 2025 at 10:33 AM UTC
Old and New
When I see the face of my maker here I’ve never seen a more beautiful thing My maker is not God nor is it fear Fear is just the outcome and the offspring So far gone are the values of our men Fighting in the names of Gods expired Crying for the right to love so long dead On shaking ground but argued required You’ll see the face of your maker and weep When recognized by your own scarring heart If eyes open to spot that bloodied creep A maker’s face may close both from the start Your matching face can only seem to choose Decide if he’s the maker or are you
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Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
Impotent are the Men of Makers
Time is a funny thing We miss the past And dream of the future While paying little mind to a today That is the dream we will later miss ©2024
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Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 9:37 PM UTC
~•§•~ An Ironic Relationship with Time ~•§•~
Do we think first or feel? Think! UNSUPPORTED first we Feel and that is itself an act then we think and that is a react To THINK is a react to an act: To FEEL
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Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 7:09 PM UTC
a School
what if I have a little too much Bacardi and I am stumbling around the party would you take care of me or use me would you pull my hair back as I spew out my regrets watch me undress, caress my silhouette don’t neglect, blow me like a cigarette knew since we first met, you rev me up like a corvette what's next, what's next every since you step into my life its been just blessed I confess it's been stressful trying to get a handle or a grip on you and your fit is so cool you make me want you, so smooth you want me to want to do things I don’t usually do give up the flower as you f*ck me in the shower never thought I would be like this, you are my weakness smiling during the fall of the tower
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Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 2:20 PM UTC
Justice
هر دو بی فرزند هستیم (متفاوت)/we are both childless, differently —————————————————————————— *let us not ask each other or god the why, just how life worked out and maybe by a choice unconfessed* ~ yet we both lie. ~ you possess thousands of offspring, tend to their every need, breast feed them water, special nutrients, stroking their leaves, worry about their viruses, you, dying just, a little, when, one rooted looks up and says, “I am dying mother, thank you for your love.” ~ my ***** produced two men, each now, differentially, lost, lost to me, and daily privately, in word and wet, weep my losses, for what is a man who had children, but goes down into his grave gray haired, with none in attendance to refill the soil that his grave grayed body requires to hide his wasted, childless life.
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Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 8:52 AM UTC
هر دو بی فرزند هستیم (متفاوت)/we are both childless (differently)
She was neve going to be in white, neutrality was never going to be her hue. She was telling the world a message.. Her gown, was onyx silk woven like Cinderella had told the arachnids to create beauty in the night unbridled it fell entrapping on any who gazed upon its woven radiance. She walked down the isle and with each step, at least five were captivated in the webbing of her beauty, walking beyond there view. All entombed within the elegance that captured them. She was the spider weaving a web of beauty that captured every eye. And the man was her prey, he smiled lost in the moment of her captivation. I do, I do, and both were entangled within the eyes of each. This moment was silk ropes tied to each others wrists, and now they'll weave them every step they collect together.
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Feb 15, 2020
Feb 15, 2020 at 5:02 PM UTC
Cinerella In The Dark..
"He's either a madman or a poet." "Can't I be both?" "You already are."
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Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC
Title
Ah - the weekend! Time to open my emotional closet, Have a good rummage around, And find something we both can wear.
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Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 5:44 PM UTC
Time For Poetry
When can I feel like the victim And only the victim I can't be a victim and victimzer At the same time It sends me into a spiral Of only accepting what you say Is the truth
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Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 2:01 AM UTC
Victim or Victimizer
Both of us were silent, But our eyes were still speaking.
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Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 11:12 PM UTC
Eyes
Woeful of the memories,               was I to blame! Could I have changed that moment? When he walked out of our timeline. Altered futures of what would have been                  happy moments.    But he was vacant like a parked car paying                          for a spot never ever filled. Still we waited on the clock before the pennies                            ran out and then...    Tickets of denial, that he was there for us..     he threw pennies at the lap of our mother. She cried inside ever strong... We were young of innocence, thinking he was       there for us. But she was the guild that                    caressed every fall,                           every awkward question. Denial was a strong venture for boys,      that  thought the sun shone brightly. In reality it was like the northern hemisphere                    frozen for a time then thawed. In reality, there was an absence of reconciliation.         daydreaming of perfection.                                                      ­  never realising... That one took the personification of both.              And we gazed upon her as a not worthy. But she brought us up in the wordless motion,          of abandonment, not wanting us to see the reality.. That our Dad was as worthless as the pennies he          threw in discord,                                                  thinking that the copper stepping stones were of worth to feed  and put cloth on us. She was the one that played the part of both.       gone is her words of wisdom.. But still her learning lives on..                    We love you mother & Dad.. But realistically   she was both, and when she passed..           She wasn't  a loss of a singular person but                    one that filled the footsteps of both.. Mum we miss you... every one that wasn't filled not one footstep, but one that filled both.
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 11:50 AM UTC
Fathers Day Denial.....
Woeful of the memories,               was I to blame! Could I have changed that moment? When he walked out of our timeline. Altered futures of what would have been                  happy moments.    But he was vacant like a parked car paying                          for a spot never ever filled. Still we waited on the clock before the pennies                            ran out and then...    Tickets of denial, that he was there for us..     he threw pennies at the lap of our mother. She cried inside ever strong... We were young of innocence, thinking he was       there for us. But she was the guild that                    caressed every fall,                           every awkward question. Denial was a strong venture for boys,      that  thought the sun shone brightly. In reality it was like the northern hemisphere                    frozen for a time then thawed. In reality, there was an absence of reconciliation.         daydreaming of perfection.                                                      ­  never realising... That one took the personification of both.              And we gazed upon her as a not worthy. But she brought us up in the wordless motion,          of abandonment, not wanting us to see the reality.. That our Dad was as worthless as the pennies he          threw in discord,                                                  thinking that the copper stepping stones were of worth to feed  and put cloth on us. She was the one that played the part of both.       gone is her words of wisdom.. But still her learning lives on..                    We love you mother & Dad.. But realistically   she was both, and when she passed..           She wasn't  a loss of a singular person but                    one that filled the footsteps of both.. Mum we miss you... every one that wasn't filled not one footstep, but one that filled both.
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Lovely Crashing Colliding Off the rails and Into the water The black Those depths Known too well For such young lungs Sinking to swim Kicking Thrashing Brought to the surface By a balloon You never saw that before Red and love Don't rise too high You aren't a bird You're a trainwreck Dying to live
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Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 2:47 PM UTC
Trainwreck
i wish you messed with me and not my mind but at least you ***** something of mine
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Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 8:43 PM UTC
in the city of angels, i'm dealing with demons
Both of those two That day brawled Sworn about the tolls "Reincarnation, We both shall be boys next life!" For then they could combat And he,finally could hit 'she' Who then be he Pleased ,said she: I shall reciprocate thee Laughed at it Both rolled giggling arms in arms Or heads on the beseated knees
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Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 2:34 PM UTC
The penultimate laughter