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Bekah Halle May 28
I dedicate my days
to worshipping You
And writing sun-filled,
son-fuelled poetry.
To the One who gave me life again and gives me new life each morning, Amen.
  May 27 Bekah Halle
Mark Bell
Me
Sitting on a branch
High upon a tree
I am wondering
Upon my own
Sexuality.
Am I going to
Be pigeon holed
Why can’t I
Just be me.
Problem is not me
It’s ******* society.
  May 27 Bekah Halle
Jeremy Betts
Have you ever said,
Even internally,
"I AM FUUCKING DYING!"
Wanting it to be true but it never comes
So you find that you're innocently lying
What it this?
Deaths missed kiss?
Life mocking my last wish?
Am I not allowed some kind of bliss?
Common questions
That have passed through many a mind and uncountable lips
But ask for the answer
And find emotion rear an ugly head creating an eclipse

©2025
Bekah Halle May 26
Under the cover of darkness,
I plucked that rose from its bush.
I spied it two days ago,
even snapped a photo of its lush
Foliage.
I feel guilty now,
But is that because, I stole it stealth
Or is that because it now droops, lifeless?!
  May 25 Bekah Halle
Maria
And she just wanted a little sunshine
Among this obscence malodorous mud.
She just wanted to hide in sun rays
From this dirtiness, from this crud.

And she just wanted to be joyful.
She wanted to laugh but not in hysterics,
That rippling laughter would wink with a smile.
She wanted a gladness, and no mysteries.

She also wanted a lot of snow,
So white, so huge, with snow banks!
But you found nothing better than damage all!
Aren’t you people? There’s nothing sacred!

And she just wanted a little happiness.
You were so stingy, and she would have shared.
She didn’t have grunge for you, she didn’t have meanness…
At the beginning… Look, what you’ve achieved that!  

Look, what you’ve turned the angel into.
She walks without the sun through the mud.
She’s lost, but she isn’t humiliated.
Why have you done all that to her, my God?!

All that she wanted was little sunshine,
A little warmth and simple happiness.
And you thought that it was ****** and silly.
You tore her soul to pieces! You’re merciless!

Torn to shreads, appalled and pained,
She still walks because she’s alive.
And you keep on spill all with mud,
Without seeing her, burn up and deprive.
This poem is filled with pain. It's an autobiographical story. I remembered it today because I need the strength that I had then, that pulled me through and helped me to move on...
Thank you very much for reading it! 🙏💖
Bekah Halle May 25
Poetry
May seem a solitary
Pursuit.

But,

In every
Poet
There is a myriad
Of multiple memories,
Classic characters
Distorted demons
Vying to be released beyond the vault.

To take root

In your minds and hearts

Forever a part of you,

And me.
Do you agree??
Bekah Halle May 25
Hey there,
Look at me!
Mixin it with the "big boys"
of Helloooooo Poetry.

I may be old[ER] in-age,
Grey and less slender,
Pumping out words
Like bullets with no gender.

But I hope,
The war I wage
Is of love and peace,
not one's re-locking the cage.

How do we use our platform
For things that matter?
Ego-crucifixion;
Liberation and not just idle chatter?!
Genuine question - creativity in all its forms does bring liberation, I just hope not narcissism.
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