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111 · Feb 2021
street of dreams - haiku
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
when i left you love-

i didn't only leave you-

i left myself too-
111 · Mar 2021
Đaviđ but not Copperfield
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
one's security with insecurity is a crippled crutch of illusion

forgive me, i'm too terrified to expound

i fear waking up in this land of confusion

explaining away misery is an unforgettable sound
111 · Feb 2020
Impactful 5 word poetry
110 · Feb 2021
🐾Gabe🐾
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
Pitter patter
pitter patter
across
Heaven's
floor-

it's just me
mommy and
daddy,
it's me Gabe;
i'm not in
pain anymore.

thank you
mommy and
daddy for
making a
decision that
i knew
would break
your heart

but now
i am pain
free here
in heaven
with a
healthy new
start.

i will see
you soon
mommy and
daddy,
and when
i do?

i will be
the happiest
dog once
again....
when i
see you.

Love Gabe.🐾💕
My baby sister had to put her little Gabey (black labrador) down today.
He had cancer.💔
So I quickly wrote this to ease my sister's pain.
🐾woof🐾
110 · Feb 2021
drowning
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
metaphorically
drowning,

right in the
view of some.

they all just-

sit there
and watch.

splash....
splash...
splash..

gurgle
    gurgle°
       ­          °
                °

they just sit-

and watch.

well;

it's time to dry myself off.

breach the
surface.....

take a deep
cleansing
breath and
metaphorically
drown
them now.

and
as their air
bubbles breach
the surface-

~~~~~~
°
  °
°
     °
      °

i'll just
sit there
and watch
them drown
now.
https://youtu.be/XylUaPNLfiE
108 · Nov 2019
galaxias
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
you are
  one star
and i
  am another
      star...

and yet,

   through all
of the
  stellar remnants,

interstellar gas,
   dust,

and dark matter
  in this here
galaxy,

  
  your gravitational
     pull has
never been
   equaled.
108 · Feb 2021
miscellaneous thoughts
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
it was february 4th when i
drove by
their home
and;
their Christmas
decorations were still up.

I just looked- smiled - and drove away.
108 · Feb 2020
10 word
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
be a beacon
in the storm

not the
storm itself.
🇺🇸
108 · Feb 2020
Impactful 5 word poetry
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
deeply breathe in
each muse
that passes by
without hesitation
or wondering
why.

let it
cut you,
pierce your skin
and fully
let it in.

we are meant
to bear the
scars that
others ignore.

almost daily
we will
place ourselves
at the foot of
death's door.

i see you
fellow poets,
i feel the
pain and
the longing
of your own
tortured yet
loving soul.

just keep
the tourniquets
handy because
bleeding for
others is meant
to be our
life long role.

we love,
we make love
with unmatched
passion that
one never
soon forgets.

we are lovers
that when one,
our lovers will
never, ever
regret.

we lOve soooo
so much
deeper than
most others
could ever
comprehend.

we are poets,
born as poets
and we will be
poets right to
the very end!

i love you my
community of
genuine
fellow poets.

the words
that i splashed
upon this page
are truth,
and all of us
poets,
know it.
107 · Mar 2021
Struggle
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
We all struggle with variations of the word struggle.

Don't ever feel like you are alone, because you aren't.

Strength is built upon our struggles.

Callous strength eventually heals over our open wounds and scars.

We begin standing upon a foundation of strength in understanding.

A strength in understanding that life's clock is the slickest thief we will ever meet.

A strength in understanding that life's clock is also our heart's greatest healer.
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
In days of youth's yore;

to conquer while
striking a
winning pose
may have been  the
breath of life for many
a young man.

"I love you",
assertively whispered from
her moist and
fevered lips was,
a call of the wild
and a vindication
of one's manhood.

Her legs wrapped tightly around you,
like a spider that is spinning its silken
masterpiece around its paralyzed prey.

Regaining our breath together
as our sweaty bodies glisten in the light of
an August's 2am moon.

A beauty that I  never wanted to conquer but one, that I just wanted to savor and to...

never forget.

Was it love?
Is it love?
Is this love?

Forgive me for a moment but, about this?
I am just...

*white flagging it
107 · Jan 2020
a long drawn out suicide
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
i **** myself
a little more
every day,

knowingly.

my suicide note,

my dear john,
has long been
in my
poetic verse,

for those that
are keen enough
to comprehend.
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
Oral pain relievers

         laying in bed,

a hospice bed.

               Favorite meals brought by

                     comers and goers.

Sadness

       pity and low voices are popular.

              Methadone given

lorazepam given

                 a walk to the downstairs bathroom for Pops and I.

        Phones ringing

              California and across the country relatives calling

                   a brother dying of cancer in California as well.

         We pretend to sleep

but,
    
    . ...       it's time for pain meds.

Higher dose of methadone hospice instructs us...

       we comply.

               A new day has dawned

and-

                    trips to the bathroom have stopped.

      Time for a catheter hospice asserts to me,

               I struggle with this decision

      do I invade my Pops even more ?

Ripping myself to shreds,

.......       I reluctantly agree.

I lie next to my Pop's bed on the floor

       dawn has yet to break,

             pounding on the handrails of death's bed is Pops....

                  I need to get the fxxk up !

       I need to *** !!!!

who the fxxk is holding me down ?!?!

             I destroy myself further for Pop's catheterization.

                  For one
hour Pops angrily pounds...

      Higher oral dosage of lorazepam hospice asserts,

               finally the pounding stops

......I break down ,

       telling my older brother that I need him to help me with this ...

              Dawn breaks and Pop's pain is a 7

              the time for ports have come....

        one in each of Pop's arms and upper thighs,

       Methadone is now morphine.

People still coming and going,

        but it's Cindy, Cathy and I that will not allow Pop's end in the hands of strangers.

              Morphine in one port

lorazepam in another...

Morphine becomes tramadol

              breaths become faint...

I lie next to Pops on the green carpeted floor.

                   End stage is over...

it's ended-

       I have lost my Daddy

the cold stethoscope tells me that my Pop's life is over....

          I am amputated limb, numb!

Questions amass from strangers

              a stretcher opens on my Pop's white ceramic tile foyer floor....

               a black body bag unzipped and my Daddy placed inside of it..............¿¿¿¿

      zipped up-

           my mind blacks out from there.

             I finally, weakly stumble to the kitchen and see all of the medications we pumped inside my Daddy.....

           it's clear that we fought hard against end stage cancer with Pops but at what cost to me.....

         for life?

Imagery never alludes me,

           it's a replay,

a broken record,

                        that will never stop,

      .....until my end days....

and this I know !
106 · Dec 2019
David the giant slayer
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
i am
  David
and i
  slay giants.

you there,
  in the
shadows,
   David
does not
     fear you.

to the
  contrary,
David is
  waiting to
slay you too.

one by one
  the
   long line
begins to
   wane.

your fleece
  was
no match
    for my
  ornamental
mane.

as David
   lives on,
he waits for
  false giants
to try and
  hinder
his way.

felling
  each giant
to wallow
  in pain.


'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
106 · Nov 2019
poet puzzle
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
just when
  you think
that you
  know
a poet?

HA!

that's
   crazy talk.

you will
  never really
know
   a poet.

they don't
   want anyone
to really
    know them.

all a
   poet wants
and craves
    is their
next muse.

they will
  only allow
you to
  discover-
to have pieces
  of them,
only the
  pieces that
they want
   you to have.

no one
   will ever
put a
   'poet puzzle'
fully together.

even the
   poet admits
to missing
  a few
pieces of
   themselves.

and they
   are in
NO HURRY
  to find
them.
105 · Sep 2019
Sometimes when it rains
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Sometimes when it rains,
every step you take feels as if you are
stumbling through the darkest night.

A night with a thousand eyes watching you.
Watching you ***** for light.

Watching you undermine yourself even
in your brightest moments, with little energy to fight.

Sometimes when it rains,
perch yourself in front of a window.
Watch each drop of rain cascade
dramatically down your window pane.

Watch as a battered bird shakes it feathers,
takes off in flight and in awe you raise a brow.

Sometimes when it rains,
lovingly, acceptingly step out into the downpour.

Allow these tears from heaven to saturate every crevice, every part that makes you, you.

Just standing idle, arms stretched out open palmed, your mind takes off into a different place,
you see a brightly lit, open door.

Behind the door a rainbow,
a warming sun to dry your pain,
a meadow of amazing life and beauty,
enough to make a beaten down saddened man grin and smile ....a man that once so blue.

Listening, watching and feeling the rain has a way of spawning a divine inner peace.

It can wash away the stains of sadness and also allow you to hide one last cry from the world.

Sometimes when it rains no umbrella is needed.
104 · Nov 2019
goodnight moon = you
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
as
starlight
rains
upon
me,

i
reach
for
handpicked
memories.

the
talcum
powder
moon
rubs
my
eyes,

ocea­ns,
their
waves
cresting
tsunamic
our
galaxy's
disguise.

its
beauty
hides
behind
the
stardust,

its
attraction
lures
mouth
agape
lust.

meteor
showers
are
a
cosmic
******,

the
moon
falls
asleep
with
a
few
soft
notes
from
a sax.
104 · Feb 2021
Climactic storm (tanka)
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
the storm of all storms-

she was summer heat lightning-

our sweat was love's end-

her sweat was my kindá rain-

sweet dripping drops of ******-
103 · Mar 2021
Cloaking
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
I live
and hide
behind,
and inside
the words
of my
poetry.

I'm only
seen when
I want
to be
seen.
103 · Dec 2019
sage words
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
so yes,

  it is indeed
    going
to be a
  new year,
new decade.

but;

  what oh what
in this life
   has pushed you
to fade?

  please don't
blame others
  when you alone
choose your fate.

slow your
  life down,
be rid of
    the haste.

a new decade,
  a new year
and you
  still will not
blame you.

  keep lying
to yourself and
  unhappiness
will continue
   sticking
to you
     like glue.

listen y'all:

  you don't need
a new year
    or decade
to change whom
  you wish
to be.

a change
  in year
means nothing
  if you put
asterisks on
   your conditions
of being free.
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
poets share their hearts and souls with all-

vastly
underappreciated ;

they try
swimming up from
the anchor
that ties them
to the ocean floor
just to break
the water's surface
and to

B r e a t h e.

but most sit by
on the shore
and watch
poets

~~~~~~~~~~~
    d°
        °
         °
       r°
          o°

        °
          °
       w°
         °
           °
          n°__________

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️👷🏿‍♂️
102 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
"Synergy"

The synergy of life and death often destroys my soul's calmness of being.

Mind you, factually,
it is not my own death,
nor my own mortality that stirs
bewilderment and melancholy within me.

It is the road ****,
the spider on your wall.

The baby bird that has fallen from its nest.

The ant in the path of your rapid gait on the sidewalk.

The meat that I selfishly indulge upon.

The innocent murdered,
aborted children.

The sea life that mysteriously washes up upon our shores.

My dilemma?

I genuinely take it personal that I can not save any and all.

Is this a Jesus Christ complex?

I'm not sure what it is!

What I know is that every day of my existence,  
I torture my own soul for not comforting a dying soul.

This IS a genuine emotion that lives within this man's soul.

I mean, I am so[ooooooo] flawed and imperfect - a natural born sinner.

But alas,
I am the soul that only wants to share smiles, hugs and my unconditional love with those that not tread upon evil.

I stand and kneeling confused, in front of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ with all due respect about the synergy of life and death.

I say that I am tired of torturing myself over this part of life that I absorb ever so deeply every waking moment of my life but....

if tomorrow is given?
Tomorrow I shall take and live.

Albeit wounded,  yes!

But perhaps like these words, Jesus wants me here to move friend or foe.

"EoP"
102 · Dec 2019
alone-we poets are oceans
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
a poet is
not selfish
although we
love the quiet
of being alone.

any kind of
silence is a
prescription
to let our
tortured minds
graze and roam.

by oceans
of foam or
the hush being
played by a
clock's tick tock
in our home.

us poets
being alone
in our silence
will always
produce a
plethora of
poems.

by the time
i grasp my
last breath
i will have
created a
large heavy
  scholarly
book... .. .

..a tome.

'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'
102 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
From the wind it fell
Across my nose that I knew so well

Hints of warm apples and spice
Surrounding me not just once - but twice

An orangish hue now crossed my eyes
There on the steps is where the pumpkin lies

Crunching sounds with every step
Under my feet where fallen leaves slept

Hot chocolate steams the children's noses
Autumn is here as Summer finally closes

Football on Sunday, the kids back in school
Sauce on the stove - I need to be a rule

Shoveling snow before long - this I know
Stealing a kiss from your love under mistletoe

A Winter wonderland is the cozy I adore
In just a few months I will cozy once more
102 · Nov 2019
irony's love?
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
my crutch,
it got me
once again
this week.

the pain
left for
a day but,
at the bottom
of those
bottles were not
the answers
that I seek.

the one
person that
I feel could
relate,
could understand...

they'd rather
be angry
without
understanding
that,

I am just
a man.

the years of
torment that
I was put
through without
making them
feel like a
monster of
some kind

but whatever,
I have come
to accept my
unhappiness
and simply endure
this life until
God tells me
to leave it
behind.

I have never
run away
from
responsibility
of any kind

I go to work,
I pay my bills,
I stumble
sometimes.

I'm just
a man....

I wish...
eh,
maybe I
don't care
if you
understand.

What will be
will be

and one day
soon I hope,
of all of this
wretched life....
I will soon
be free.

Eventual
happiness
does await
me...

with Jesus and
nary a soul
to judge me.

out...
and
free,

at long last,
alee.
102 · Sep 2019
My life - part 1
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
"My life -part 1"( I told my readers that this was coming)This is poetry about my life.
There will be many parts to this piece of work.
I AM a loner for many reasons.
But I am a courteous, loving, a very respectful loner.
My fight for life before I was even 1 hour old forever instilled inside me, my loner mentality.
When I fight for something, I fight with everything that God supplied me.
I am often misunderstood but hey, that only propels me deeper into my loner personality.
What's underneath my motives, my skin?
From nearly being born dead at birth, I fight for everything from deeply within.
It's what makes me, me.
Something most of you hold against me.
But if you understood...
I am art in human form, in word, in emotion and ****.

==============
So;
before I was born, I guess that my Dad was cheating on my Mother with another woman or, so I have been told.

This affected my Mother's pregnancy while she was carrying me, putting both of our lives on hold.

Eventually I was born into an unstable world by a woman in distress.

I was born blue and barely breathing, nearly dead and my life before it began, was already a mess.

The "doctors" working hard to save me, but to save me from what?

A life that I have made the most of but the world around me makes me loathe so much!
101 · May 2020
a poets thoughts #1
TheConcretePoet May 2020
spare me the
painted face
of liability.

make love
to me with
the face
you were born,
naturally.


'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
-👷🏻‍♂️-
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
Life's hammer sure can shatter the strongest of heart.
Picking up those pieces one by one is when survival literally starts.
Our hearts are meant to be ko'd and broken.
If not, many sad songs just would never be spoken.
101 · Nov 2019
remnants of pure
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
pure,
budded
and
unopened.

snow
kissed
tongues
with
white
icy
wh­ispers.

bonfires
of
scented
cinnamon
sticks
and
apple
rinds.

eskimo
kisses
nestled
in tightly
wrapped
arms.

logs on
the fire
glow against
the
bronzy
autumn'd
sunset.

dripping
from the
weathered
eaves....

the remnants
of
what's pure.
101 · Feb 2020
12 word - mean streets
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
his blood
ran into
the gutter
that was
no stranger
to blood.
100 · Feb 2021
the good ol' days
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
i remember when-

i enjoyed
chocolate chip
pancakes when
my doctor
allowed it

smothered in
2 pats of real butter
and drowned
in maple syrup

now?

after my doctor
took all of my fun away

now i sit here
with my dry
whole wheat
toast and a
cup of decaf

while dreaming of
chocolate chip pancakes with 4 pats of real butter and dressed in a life preserver so not to drown in a quart of maple syrup

Who am I kidding?

with a side of salty pork sausage and bacon

i'd eat my own foot if it were fried in butter and wrapped in bacon
100 · Mar 2021
ly
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
ly
internally-
we all live
eternally

externally-
we all live
momentarily

individually-
we all live
exclusively

live wisely-
so that
eternally
eases gradually
and not
suddenly

i say this
of course-
lovingly
Most of us, are our own harshest critics.
You are a special and unique creation of all that is great.
We all fall short in expectations of ourselves sometimes.
But just know that it happens to all of us, not just you.
If there is one thing that we all have in common?
We are all absolutely perfect at being imperfect.
You are not alone.💕

You are only defeated when internally you have given up and in.

Strength to overcome is in the soil of our own root system.
It may be over watered at times with tears of anxiety or angst.
But that will only preserve our soil for when we are dry and saharan.

Life teaches us new things every day without fail.
Learn and grow from our lessons every day.

Age is just a number.
It is a healthy state of mind - a remembrance of a sage collection of life's lessons.

Have a one of a kind day in the most unique and best possible way.
Love thy neighbor for we know not what troubles them.
💕
100 · Feb 2020
5 word poetry
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
every
rose
lives
with
thorns
99 · Mar 2020
A poem and some grey hair
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
I'm now just an old and brittle guy-
A slow deliberate gait when once I used to fly-
In the rear view mirror I wave at my youth-
Fifty-three this year, growing long in the tooth-
I can no longer portray a man made of steel-
Cause' unoiled and rusty is the way that I feel-
Acceptance of this reality, was my toughest fight yet-
I lived a life hopefully that I soon will never forget.
99 · Nov 2019
whispers can be chains
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
sure,
  i've been
a fool
  before

but your
  whispers
in the dark
  will never
fool me
  again
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
when you
insert fire
into fire... .
it
only intensifies

heavy
oxygen in
the air
feeds the
burning

the heat
and smoke
arrest their
hearts

monolithic
bodies
melted... .
exhausted

all cooled
down with
a spasmic
hosing
99 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Under the
winter fog

a storied waterfront
beckons

a few
waterfowl and
homeless linger

amid a
winter's wind
they rest

life is
a
cold play
99 · Dec 2019
lol
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
lol
i'll never use
the phrase
'lol'.
it's just not
in me to be
one of
the crowd.

i'd rather use
the phrase
haha.
that lol stuff
reminds me
of sheep in
the meadow....
baaaa...baaaaaa

not trying
to be cruel,
just always
being me.
but,
lol reminds me
of exclamations
at a child's
birthday party.

ever since
the rage took
hold i went
the other way.
i'll never
conform,
i simply was
never raised
that way.

i know that
most of you
think it's all
just too
darned cutsie.
just like
all of those
regurgitated
"refried memes".

i'm the man
that will
always stand
away from
the crowd,
alone if
i must.
unlike you
all bound
together,
i will never
rust.
and in myself
i thoroughly,
wholeheartedly
trust.

why in
God's name
would I want
to be
the "in crowd"
or
like you?
naw,
no thanks,
you
people can
sell yourself
while to me....

I always
remain true.
99 · Mar 2021
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
tonight's
gentle air
left me
feeling
nostalgic

yesterday's
emotions with
hint of
pure magic

streetlights
casting
shadows
of what was
once
just there

a breeze
that brings a
memory of her
aromatic hair
99 · Nov 2019
enslaved by your lips
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
i
wanted
to wait
for
another
kiss

but
your
lips.. .

are
something
i.. .
.. ....

i
never
want to
miss
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
humanity
these days,

often
leaves me
in
bewilderment,
awe
and despair.

hunt,
go ahead
for food
of course
but,

why shoot
a bear?

that's just
trophy
hunting,
pound
your chest
little *****
syndrome
in my eyes.

i literally
look at
those that
trophy hunt
as wolves
in disguise.

be you
of course.

just remember,
God
nor I..

your
murderous
behavior
will we
ever endorse.

i clearly
put much
more value
on life,
any life
than you.

i am
thoughful
enough
to know
that
once we
draw our
last breath..

there are
NO REDOS.

**** for
food?
Jesus
approves.

******
for sport?
from heaven
to hell
your
forever home
moves.
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
love... ..

  ahem,

love often

     shatters

just like,

   a frozen

red rose.

    fragments
of love

    everywhere.
97 · Jan 2021
🤷🏻‍♂️
TheConcretePoet Jan 2021
okay;
now i see,

now i see
how this
place works.

it's not about;
the 'poetry'
you see
but rather,

behind
how many
other 'poets'
you lurk.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
A-n apple a day may keep the doctor away
but never
B-ite off more than you can chew.

C-aught with your hand in the cookie jar
whether you eat it or not you're
D-amned if you do and ****** if you don't.

E-very rose has its thorns
and it hurts
F-or crying out loud.

G-et back up on the horse
even if the
H-andwriting is on the wall.

I- wasn't born yesterday
but today a
J-ourney of a thousand miles begins with the first step

K-now it like the back of my hand
but I will still be sure to
L-eave no stone unturned

M-ake no bones about it
it's so true that
N-ice guys finish last

O-nce in a blue moon
you need to
P-ay the piper

Q-uicker than a New York minute
it may begin
R-aining cats and dogs

S-wim with the sharks
or
T-ake the easy way out

U-phill battles
give us that
V-ariety as the spice of life

W-aiting for the dust to settle
I plan on utilizing
X-ray vision

Y-ou lost me
because you
Z-igged when you should have zagged.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️👷🏿‍♂️
96 · Jan 2020
are you ready?
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
the heaven's rain turned into funeral black -

the earth opened up beneath our feet -

the winds shared whispers of imminent death -

the rain ignores the fire in the sky above -

the abundant smell of iron wafts -

the sight of flowing scarlet red is everywhere -

the trumpets heard are sonic booms -

there is no place to run -

the souls of evil greedily pull at me below my feet -

the feathers of angels brush past my nose -

the time has ceased, weightless i become -

the end is here -

are you ready ?
96 · Feb 2020
5 word poetry
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
thunderstorms
are
why
i
live
Mmmmm
mmmm
mmm.
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
mentally
and
physically
abused as
a child,

not knowing
what i was
doing wrong
all the
while.

i did
nothing,
nothing
wrong except,

wanting a
relationship
with my
father,
so i
wept.

jealousy
and anger
filled those
around me,

the ones
that were
supposed
to be
looking out
for me.

the middle
child
that misses
his father,

boo hoo
they feel
as their
anger anchors
farther.

a little boy
needs
his dad,

my dad that
they
seemingly
didn't
want me
to have.

instead,
i grew up
with exclaims
like,

"go to room"

"you look
just like
your father
get out of
my sight".

and then,
those same
people
wonder why
i am the
mess that
i am today?

all that
i ever
wanted
was peace
in my life
and inside
my head...

i guess that
my death
will be
my only
way.

if most
only knew
what goes
on inside
my head?

i fight
myself
every day
just to
not
walk with
the dead.
to make it harder, my Dad passed away far too young of lung cancer which makes me hold even more resentment to those that kept me from him.

for the last 2weeks of his life in hospice care in his home, i was his care giver.
i gave him every shot that one could possibly imagine.
but, it was my loving face that he seen last as he drifted away from me one last time....

i am here to hurt no one.
i am here to share whatever love and words that i can.

much love to you all and as my dad would always say :
"ciao ciao for now".
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
i have failed at much in this life

i can't fix or change the past

so,i write poems

each word is a scar,
an open wound

not only my wounds but wounds of others

it hurts to be me

it's painful living in my head at times

i've destroyed myself more than anyone ever could

you - you only see what i allow you to see

beneath that boyish grin is a war

a war that most could never understand

a war that has no victor

a war that has no end

a war that has left me mortally wounded

and hey, i didn't want this war

i never asked for it

it was waged upon me by my own depth

waged upon me by the other me

the me that cries when no one is looking

like i said, most could never understand

i wake up every single day in a fog of war

i wake up every single day just trying to win one battle at a time

i understand that this war can never be won

but i still fight

i fight to provide a boyish grin when i win a day's battle

enjoy those days with me

please don't be an enemy of war

the enemy already has the numbers on me
95 · Feb 2021
I wrote this a while back
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
"because - she is her"



i love her because
  she is frail
yet,
    mighty like a
mooring against
  a hurricane's wind.

i love her because
  she can finish
my unspoken
sentences with an
exclamation point
  at the end.

i love her because
  she is beautiful
yet,
   never acts as if
she were.

i love her because
  she's a simple woman so faithful, honest
   and pure.

i love her because
   after church,
she's
  my sauce on
    an afternoon autumn's sunday.

i love her because
  she's
the one that i want
  by my side
as the sun begins to fade.

i love her because
  heh...
    they don't make
many of her.

  i love her because....
i am her drink,
  and she is -

the straw that stirs.
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