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A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
I fall in love
with bits of people,
rarely a whole person.
Like crooked smiles on subway stations
or untied shoelaces
or favorite books
or eyes that look like blinking galaxies--
I see the puzzle laid at my feet,
your collarbones, your self-hatred, your bitten down fingernails, your detachment, the wars of your mind, the curve of your spine, the way you scrawl your name with indifference--
All these broken fragments that
shatter and surround me
like the wine glass I dropped,
Shards of glass,
your eyes
reflect me
the deep blood red wine
Drops like crystalline desire--
I might romanticize your flaws
and I might make walls of disillusionment,
but I swear I'll love you like you're whole.
Love unselfish
 Jan 2015 Tom Pearson
Kataleya
Love her like
She's the raging sea,
Unrestrained and dark and deep.
And you crave her touch
Through aching pores
As you slowly drown in sleep.

Love her like
She's the tender storm,
A lovely shade of grey.
Like with every whiff
Of breath she takes,
She's taking yours away.

Love her like
She's the silent clouds
With calmness floating by.
Like you'd want to make
Sweet love to her
Under the moon's apocalyptic eye.

Love her like
She's the blazing fire,
And you lust the candied pain.
Like she's the disease
That swallowed you whole
And you'd like to die again.

When her gentle touch
Makes your chest explode,
And your addiction is your girl.
Promise you'll love her
Through hell and back,
Or don't you dare love her at all.
 Jan 2015 Tom Pearson
Megan Grace
i miss your drunken
"i love you"s   please
just    c o m e    back
i'm     starting       t o
forget    what    your
hands feel l i k e  i'm
startingtoforgetwhat
your hands   feel like
London is farther away than
I can fathom at this point.
 Jan 2015 Tom Pearson
Jake
My favorite thing to do, is to pretend I'm a writer.
When reality I only write so I can sleep at night.
Sometimes I pretend my old friends still care about me.
When I already know they would rather get high than hang out.
I used to pretend that I didn't care about anyone, or anything.
But as it turns out I care about almost too many things.
I used to pretend to dream to have everyone know my name.
But I only dream of having a enough people know my name,
and that maybe something I write could help someone else get some sleep at night.
I'm scared I'll just end up in the pile of
"One of those"
That you always speak of.
Average
 Jan 2015 Tom Pearson
Jason
Me
 Jan 2015 Tom Pearson
Jason
Me
I like to smile at people who dislike me because I am an *******
 Jan 2015 Tom Pearson
Roberta Day
I dreamt of slow-dancing
and we waltzed until I woke
Hazy scent of desires unspoke
I, mangled with your absence,
breathe a mere thought of
reality's biting grip and rip
the blanket from my bones
Naked and exposed, more
vulnerable and assured
than ever to disclose
those tender tickles
I feel when in repose,
visceral and verbose
I spew black for it's
pronounced and bold
amplifying the dark hold
melted to my frame
Bursting free, finally
with a pounding chest,
primary shades to express,
and fear tentatively at rest
Your hand in mine gives
a soft and slow caress
and I exhale our dance
of coalesce.
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