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 Jan 2021 Johnny's Brother
D Cole
Words are forged from the fire of the soul,

Brought to life by streams of emotions

bursting from the heart

In harmony they dance, telling the

different pieces of art painted by the

writer.
When you write, different words
Seem ,in one accord, to come together
As though attempting to
fulfill a puzzle of mystery
And when you're done
These words tell tales from
Hidden places with in us,
Saying not a word.
Her and higher education:

Those narrow walls

That building
with too many stares

All the talk about climbing
up the flagpole

Just to see
what goes up

And what comes down

It was so much easier
when they just wanted

To carry her books
Note: The placement of stares, and not stairs, is intentional. It is not a typo.
Over and over
backtracking is heartbreaking
like broken vinyls
getting you was
a cup of tea
holding onto you,
misery for me.

when you imagined
I'd go down on my knee
my first instinct,
was just to flee.

oh, can it be?
your voice is calling me
will you finally
set my soul free?
It's just your voices against mine.
 Dec 2020 Johnny's Brother
Crow
Oh my Love
Let us Lovingly Love
Our Lovely Love

And with our Lovingness
Our Lovicity will
Love the Love of Lovers

Love only Love
And the Love of Love
Loveraciously

With Loving Loveliness
And Lovitude Lovability Lovishness Lovaroni Loviquity

          Lovectomy

                  Lovelishment

                            Love……….

                                     Love……………...

                                             Love…………………………..

Where was I?
I sometimes suffer from what some consider an odd sense of humor
Even when you have no one by your side you will always have yourself.
Do not allow someone's negativity to affect your inner peace...filter out the unnecessary stuff.
 Dec 2020 Johnny's Brother
Crow
Place all my memories in a row
From old to fresh and new
There is one certain thing I know
From first to last they’ll be of you

From newborn cry to fading light
Each reflection which breaks through
Burns in mind's eye with image bright
And remembrance of you

To search the halls of Mnemosyne
To seek what there is true
From moonlit night to sun washed day
Each thought I find will be of you

Should I on life’s love reminisce
And choose each echo to pursue
All of my muse would come to this
My one pure dream has been of you
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