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 Jul 2020 ThePoet
Shades31
As days go by

As poets pass

The friend we make

Who now departs

But as I look back

And reminisce

There's that one friend I made

Who I'll surely miss

Who inspired my writing

Intrigued my mind

To whom the world out there

Was not always kind

Yet wrote on and on

Of love and of pain

Of hope and of sorrow

Which she could not contain

That sparked into words

And roared like a flame

A friend - fellow poet

A star, became

So thank you, my friend

For your inspired works

That set upon this open sky

Explode like fireworks
To ThePoet - Sarah Ahmed. An amazing poet who inspired me to continue writing through her work. I hope you'll continue to provide us with the opportunity to read your poetry and inspire many others to write and continue writing
I'm not saying she's leaving us. This is just what came to mind as I started writing
 Jul 2020 ThePoet
Grace E
I wish I would’ve savored that final hug
Just a little bit longer
I shall wait for tomorrow

While I forget myself in today

Drunk as I am with anxiety

I have nowhere else to run to.
I smoked to fill my lungs
to **** the flowers that grew there
the ones you planted last december
 Jul 2020 ThePoet
Amanda Hawk
Envy
 Jul 2020 ThePoet
Amanda Hawk
Always missing
and I desire
to peel away everything
you have become
and consume it
piece by piece
have it run through my veins
and I will become
everything you once were
 Jul 2020 ThePoet
GaryFairy
my life is like a stopwatch
just tallying up the time
i choose the downward spiral
over that vertical climb

i tried to go the mile
to keep up with my kind
i lasted just a while
then i fell behind

when my descent is final
who knows what i might find
maybe the top is topnotch
but the bottom is all mine
 Jun 2020 ThePoet
Meera
you inhale tragedies
and exhale poetry
From where do you get your perseverance?
 Jun 2020 ThePoet
Goddess Rue
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
 Jun 2020 ThePoet
Kelsey Banerjee
some days
I spring to life at dawn
well-oiled and eager I
glide on tiles as if made
of sunflowers

and other
I drag my body
from the sheets
mumble poems,
sweet nothings dull crayons
with which I color the gray space.
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