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 Jan 2022 Zoe Mae
Maddy
When does one push the stop button?
When the noises in your head get so loud you stop them before they explode
Leaving you to wonder do you leave well enough alone
Just leave
Pick up the pieces and move forward
Is there anything left of what used to be?
Has the virus destroyed so much that all we do is stand still?
While others try another approach
Sweetness has been lost in the air


C@rainbowchaser2022
Everything is just beyond reach.
   I don't care anymore. Almost.
   I remember lover's smells. Almost.
   I remember my children. Almost.
   I know you. Almost.
   A golden retriever is familiar. Almost.
   My face in a mirror is a stranger.
   Almost, but not quite. Disappearing!
 Jan 2022 Zoe Mae
Thomas W Case
This sickness has
derailed me.
I've scaled back on
the things that
matter most.
Life has become
askew.
I'm tangled up in
blue and red lines,
back against the
fence.
I'm frozen and febrile.
Insecticide burns on
my spirit.
Pesticide in my lungs.
I'm sick of all
these chemicals.
They are in my dreams,
and in my bones.
Maybe, she is the infection...
Never mind, it's just Covid 19.
I tested positive for Covid yesterday.
 Jan 2022 Zoe Mae
My Dear Poet
Don’t hide your words
use them and speak
Don’t bury the truth
and play hide and seek
Come out, come out
from wherever you are
Don’t hide behind lies
and be found a liar
For ready or not
the truth will come when
there’s no place to hide
and they’ve counted to ten
 Jan 2022 Zoe Mae
My Dear Poet
Come, sit beside me
Grab a chair, a stool, a couch
Bring coffee and conversation
we’ll slump, chill and slouch
It matters not on where you sit
nor on, where you stand as well
As long as you come in peace
with things to share and tell
It’s of little concern what you look like
or the accent that you leak
as long as you make a good coffee
and we listen when each speak
on a matter of personal opinion
maybe another point of view
So let’s enjoy each others perspective
and feel free to express them too
 Jan 2022 Zoe Mae
My Dear Poet
How can I
stop you
from not
leaving

I don’t want
you
not to go

You say my
words are
confusing

What can I
not say
to
have you
stay
 Jan 2022 Zoe Mae
My Dear Poet

.
in
her
eyes
there is a
butterfly on
fire flickering
from her
lies

.
In
her iris
it spreads like
virus fluttering
as it slowly
dies

.
in
the
white
of the yoke
tears now soak
her wings and
her cries
.
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