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So much is written
in between the pages of that book
If you're judging me by what is written,   you need to take another look

You don't know that I'm a mother
I've worked hard all my life
I raised little a family
I was my husband's wife

We had a little girl
who couldn't breathe right on her own
I wasn't even with her
I could not take her home
I had a little boy who now is six foot eight
I love my children dearly don't tell me it's too late

I  tried to be the daughter
My Father wished I'd be
I have the greatest people
who make up my family

Alone I carry burdens
not written anywhere
so don't you whisper I'm a coward
don't you EVER even dare

Like my daughters fight
to earn a spot here on this earth
what you're reading on those pages
shows nothing of my worth

I will not allow you
to trample
on my name
was given by my father
who'd put your *** to shame

I love my little family
dysfunctional and all
Your hurtful foolish words
well they really take some Gaul
I am quite intelligent
I'm sure you know it's true
I put you in your place
and now you know just who

I am.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
Someone ****** me off today and I put them in their place...had to be done ;)
(Monsoon Moments 3)

The Chart is speaking to me
telling me......time has spilled over,
and, shaded most parts of the pie;

the space beyond the three quarters,
is what catches my eyes.........the pie,
looks like a clock, with only a quarter left,
its hands, hurriedly ticking......emphasizing
making it clearer......there is no turning back;

my to-do list alerts me
got to spend my hours...days,
all the more wiser now,
before the last piece of my pie,
before the last slice of my life,
gets consumed...........and, finally,
be...shaded....completely,
..........by.....time........


Sally

Copyright June 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...oh, dear...the rains are making me ponder too much....
A young body, light
As winter sunshine, a new
Seed's bursting promise,
Hung from a string of silence
Above its future.
(The chance of choice was never known.)
Hunger, new hands, strange voices,
It's cry came natural, tearing.

Water boiled in innocence, gaily
In a cheap ***.
The child exchanged it's
Curiosity for terror. The skin
Withdrew, the flesh submitted.

Now, cries make shards
Of broken air, beyond an unremembered
Hunger and the peace of strange hands.

A young body floats.
Silently.
 Jun 2016 The Lunchtime Poet
ryn
Saw a single clover...
Peeking out from the crack in the wall.
All alone... With no other.
Shivering in the wind.
Still it braved the unknown.
Just to see...
What was shown.

Touched the single clover.
So much courage within something so small,
so green and frail.
Standing tall in the torrential gale.
So much I could take and learn from it.
I shall make it my daily inspiration.
I shall leave it be.
So that on my daily walk back,
it could say to me,
"I'm still here, you are too.
Let's keep on, keeping on,
till our days are through."


On my walk back today,
I have looked forward to see the clover I've learnt to adore.
Only to find that it had gone missing...
It just wasn't there anymore.
The crack was vacant...
I looked all around.
I finally looked down...
And there it was on the ground.
A twisted corpse of what once was...
The storm earlier had ripped it off its perch.
The winds had overcome and left it in the lurch.
Grounded and defenceless,
It quickly became the target of many footsteps
belonging to people too oblivious.

The clover is dead.
But it's still so green.
As I looked at it,
I imagined what it would have said,
"Keep on, keeping on.
You won't truly know...
You won't really learn...
And life won't show,
if you get too afraid of the storm.
And then you won't grow.
Stick your head out
and never be too scared...
To see and be a part of the wonders of the world
that the universe has infinitely shared."


.
Here I am, sitting in a box,
confessing my sins to a man
who has committed more sins than me....
I would willingly
lay down my life
for a single smile from you

I would turn back time
with my bare hands
to kiss your sweetened lips

I would race across
the pages of history
to hold you safely in the night

I would ****
the fiercest beast
to hear you call my name

And I would rip the crescent moon
from the starry sky
to lay by your side
for only one night
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