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 Jan 22 Kelsey
Bekah Halle
On my walls hang two pieces of art;
large canvases boldly splashed
with colour, stroke upon stroke formed vivid arcs.

I wish I had kept my father's paintbrushes,
they were tools of masterpieces.
From them, my strokes could have made faces flush
and inspired songs and poetry; love?

*
But, perhaps ‘twas a blessing to create with unique expression and freedom.
We are led by our own desires

Not inspired by God

The wish is father to the thought

Born from what's desired
You were coffee cups and dark rooms,
Grey hues and poetry.

You were warm to the touch,
Burned like oak and green ivy

You were sweet like warm jazz,
Taste like soap and old candy

All the love you had left
Came from deep down inside me.

-Melanie Munoz
A better version of a poem I had written before
 Jan 3 Kelsey
Tye
If I die tonight,
Bury me shallow,
So I can wake from the abyss,
And leer at the hazy moonlight,
As it bounces softly through the treetops.
Where I can hear the birds,
Chirping to greet the sun.
Where others can hold their breath,
And hear my soul through the ground.
Illuminated figure eights swirling through the stratosphere
moonlet drops of gold surrounded by the ebon night
Star kissed wishes floating through the atmospheric dew
of a celestial paradise filled with joy and ebullient light
 Dec 2024 Kelsey
heidi
Haiku!!
 Dec 2024 Kelsey
heidi
The ground is my home
I am nothing but the dirt
Underneath your feet
 Aug 2024 Kelsey
DAF
I only write at night
The dark seems to illuminate
Thoughts not given the time of day
 Aug 2024 Kelsey
Akshay
Why I write
 Aug 2024 Kelsey
Akshay
These words are for me,
For I'm the one who's hurting,
I'm just healing myself.
I often wonder why we can't understand other's poems sometimes, but deep down it is the one who writes it knows the value of it.
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