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#misplaced
Be careful where you place your faith it may turn around and slap your face. Nothing's worse than loosing a fixed race or running out of rhyme & reason, time & space. So keep up the pace of your faith and don't lose your place in the race.
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Oct 9, 2025
Oct 9, 2025 at 2:52 PM UTC
Misplaced Faith
How lucky am I That my skies explode with pride Hiding genocide
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Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025 at 9:55 PM UTC
Past our prime
We are people. Not machines. We are meant to be appreciated- and not as merely property.
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Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 12:29 PM UTC
Do you own me?
I am not the black sheep, so why don’t I belong? My wool stands out amongst the heard, a speck of dirt on a pristine marble dress. I am not flicked away, but forced into another’s coat To match the sea of white. I am a stranger in my own body, A mess of shredded wool and yearning Yearning for my home
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Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
I am Misplaced
Tulips Common, trusted, beloved. Planted in gardens, gifted in joy, Welcomed without a second thought. And then—me. Fragile, fleeting, misplaced. Sought only in sorrow, left to wither, A beauty seen too late, A name too easily forgotten. Lycoris Radiata.
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Feb 16, 2025
Feb 16, 2025 at 8:32 PM UTC
Tulips
They "lost" you didn't they? Misplaced you fairly far away I'm sure, How it's always it's an accident or a situation blur, When they cast you off in the fray.
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Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 9:04 AM UTC
Scrapbook Poem #121
I sit in the crowded lecture hall, Surrounded by faces, not talking at all. I try to blend in, to fit the mold, But inside, I feel so withold. I came here to learn and grow, To find my place, to let my soul flow. But as I listen to the professor speak, I feel so lost, so weak. I crave a place where I belong, Where I can be myself, and sing my own song. But until then, I'll keep on trying, Hoping one day, I'll stop denying. For though I may feel misplaced, I know I am loved and embraced, By those who care, and by the stars above, Guiding me with endless love.
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Dec 20, 2022
Dec 20, 2022 at 5:50 PM UTC
Misplaced
So many “road stories” from the Odyssey, and Kerouac, to Augustine. Each rich in emotion and spirit most of the stories have the hero hitched to a fellow traveler to bathe the soul in word and mood to throb with the music. I have recurring dreams. I’m in a hotel looking for an elevator can’t find my floor or room or can’t find my car downtown. I wander streets, and lots. Are there road stories hidden in these dreams? Why do I trip, fall stay misplaced and lost find only transitory destinations?
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May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 10:55 PM UTC
On the Road
I must exist in, A more substantial way than, This macabre hell.
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Nov 8, 2021
Nov 8, 2021 at 3:01 PM UTC
Haiku 1.
Where are you hiding I’ve searched high and low In the mirror And in my soul To no avail I somehow managed To misplace myself
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Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 12:02 PM UTC
Misplaced
i have left pieces of me to people i've loved, i called it art; some remains close to me like home, some are kept and never retrieved, relentlessly wandering ; round and round in a museum filled of memories & history. IA ☕
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Jan 6, 2021
Jan 6, 2021 at 2:19 PM UTC
a misplaced art
Misplaced deliberations, oh where did I leave you? Like mislaid socks, I wear mismatched thoughts nicely fitting but not right.
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May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 3:04 PM UTC
Disorientated Moments Of Reflection
You found peace among the storm I sought blindly in the distance Once, our eyes met; no more Forlorn, begotten, but misplaced Regret is my eternal lover We will never be that sultry fate
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Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 12:31 PM UTC
Eternal
Burning at my mind driven to frenzied action by the need to find. Harrowing the ground exhausting every option until it is found. Healing an old wound soaring heights of elation finally unbound.
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Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 9:28 PM UTC
something is missing
Told me to close my eyes and count to ten, I counted down to one and then back up again. It almost feels like it’s a crime how blatantly I waste my time, what does it matter? If it would shatter, it would still be mine. Nightly I brush my hands against the dark sky, I know it’s painted with splotched stars but not seen by the eye. It’s creating ice cold fingers, and a chill that lingers, though bold, I was never a fan of cold. It’s just that I’m trapped in another space, my time and reality are lacking trace, I’m right that I’m in the wrong place. Or maybe we’ve just all been dead for years, no one wants to add to their fears, but the thought is turning gears. It’s plausible, not impossible. Told me to close my eyes and spin around, counter and clockwise I whirled until I was on the ground. I feel too old to play hide and seek, strong night vision but perception’s weak, I’m lacking balance, it’s never been in my talents, it’s looking bleak. It’s just that I’m trapped in another space, unable to alter my choices in this case, the isolation and void I just can’t face. Or maybe I’m just separated from the galaxy, outcasted from the place I’m meant to be, stuck in the shoes of an alternate reality Emily. Growing more deranged, some things don’t change.
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Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 4:32 PM UTC
Horror Show
two concepts dance around in my mind from time to time the first one is secure small towns and familiar faces streets with grass growing in the cracks and parking lots with the footprint of my disintegrating shoe pressed into fresh asphalt streetlights that come on to let me know it’s time to go home a soft place to call my own the second one is romantic intriguing and scary traffic and lights and people and buildings that fight to reach into the clouds an unfamiliar city with corners and caveats to explore for the first time lights that never burn out restless crowds to fade into as soon as someone learns your name two very different thoughts both equally concerning in two very different ways complacency or out of place? i refuse to give myself an answer or maybe i’m afraid to let myself wander but a third question knocks on my skull and lets itself in and i can’t help but wonder what does five in the morning feel like when you can’t see the sunrise casting shadows on empty fields? does the world still find a moment to release its breath before the day begins when the city didn’t even sleep the night before? what if i don’t belong here? which outcome would leave me least misplaced?
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Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC
misplaced
like a tumble **** rolling down a city street— i dont belong here and i know it.
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 2:22 AM UTC
there’s been a mistake.
it feels like i am dreaming even in waking life— to long for feelings I’ve never felt to miss a presence I’ve never met to relive a memory I’ve never had it feels strange to miss things that have never happened to wish to come back to a time that has never occurred to once again be the person I never was to revisit a place I’ve never been Indeed, it feels strange to want all that I’ve had only in my dreams.
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
misplaced nostalgia
#**I dislike the comma Whips words while walking Placed between two words Whips the former and warns latter to behave and keep space The comma is a pain I love it When words walk without whips And breathe Free**#
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Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
Misplaced Comma
Never lost, just misplaced Our fingers remain interlaced Like the bitter aftertaste You will never be replaced Never lost, just misplaced What a disgrace, this human race So many lives just go to waste And the past can never be erased Never lost, just misplaced Sometimes lost within the haste I’ll never forget the look on your face I love you mom, despite my hate /mb
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Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
Misplaced
serendipity i've dipped in and out the mountains i thought i moved took back their strength and in the taking, cracked open the ground leaving me off-balance than before yes, i should've fought back but serendipity i stay dipping in and out there's no such thing as control no such thing as handled a loose grip had me falling through the cracks and as i fell onto hard times the darkness welcomed me so i stayed . . .
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
s e r e n d i p i t y - pt2
the bits of apple between my crooked bottom teeth remind me of all the homes i’ve lived in or almost lived in that have left a sweet but spoiled taste in my mouth as they rot just under my nose i have yet to find a place to rest my head not a clean pillow or warm chest would welcome my cheek but i have looked and obsessed and tried i have tried my fingers ache from all the golden knobs i’ve reached out to just to have them slammed in the door again and again and again and againandagainandagain the wide and narrow roads are lined with quaint front porches and crooked mailboxes they are bursting with life sad ones and dramatic ones and unremarkable ones gasping and pulsing and humming but there is nothing suited for me all the welcome mats have been flipped over before i clear the front step so i keep running my tongue over the bite of longing in places i rather not be
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Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
blooming in concrete
Reliving and Preliving may all my signals ghost to sway Just falter information i shall be spirited and a weather A clamour among all my houses an assault laid upon my understanding Tired in knots combing out the fantastic a floss upon a sea and not a wound ; Misplaced I shall better be. and then I breathe this is no longer to be I am in practice ; unfooled to better be
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
Unfooled
She wants to feel important She wants someone to see her talents And smile and laugh To share a common bond A similar interest Cause right now She mostly feels alone And the silence Doesn't fill her Her soul rots away If she can't get away From her inner demons She fears she'll soon fade Her inner child wants to feel joy again To sparkle and such To light up her eyes Is all she'll ever want
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC
SPACE