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Patrick McCombs Nov 2016
Poets are assassins
Words wound and ****
Cut open arteries
Spilling life blood
Sharpening and refining words  
Honing them to a killing edge

Poets are sorcerers
Words; their incantation
Grammar; their arcane ritual
Sentences turn into spells
Transforming you into someone else
Teleporting you to a distant place

Few poets are prophets
Gifted and cursed with visions
Vessels to be filled
Conduits waiting for lightning to strike

Poets are codebreakers
Deciphering life's enigmas
Translating experiences into words
Skilled technicians
Finding the right words
For exactly the right moments
Liquid Gold Mar 2019
Decorated, renovated.
Look at the beauty that God created.
But the truth is that it's so underrated.
Constantly slated.
Feeling sedated as I wander outside, looking at the moon and the stars at night.

Flora and fauna can co-exist, but that notion is frequently dismissed.
People are in their heads instead of taking in their surroundings.
Clay muddies the water and leaves us all floundering.

Dividing opinions multiply around the world but to me it doesn't add up.
How much less stress it is to realise we're blessed.
Unfortunately, I must acquiesce to the fact that we're lost in the wilderness.
Corrupt governments and run down countries.
Bootleg products being sold on Gumtree.

What a shame.
But the game is the game.
We need codebreakers to break the code to the safe.
We need warriors who are unbelievably brave.
Courageous enough to realise they may end up in a grave for opposing the status quo and refusing to be a slave to the system.

Hold up, wait, listen.
Do you hear the door?
It's the ambulance and the Feds.
They've clocked that their patients don't wanna take their meds.
And the inmates are digging escape routes under their beds.

They've come to drag their captives back to their dens to continue making profit out of them in the tens of millions and billions.
They're aiming for the trillions.
These money hungry crooks don't even care about civilians.

It's sounds like doom and gloom.
But it's not all out of our control.
We can appreciate the bloom if we look deep with in our soul.
Take some time to look inside and you will find your perfect role to play in this game called life.

We can all do it if we strive.
It gives us a reason to be alive.
A road you can travel down with your wife.
Nuggets of wisdom you can feed to your children, so they don't wander like pilgrims, but work towards a fairytale life like Rumpelstiltskin.
First poem/written piece. Be a savage in the comments if you must, wanna know my weaknesses.
Whatever never seems
in real life or in dreams,
it
always means
something.

Deciphering
the life we're living
is one for the
codebreakers

don't think God made us
to wither away
without adding something
to every day.

Belief is neither here nor there
but paradoxically
belief is everywhere.

I'm going to bed
I wanted to go fishin'
but we don't always
get what we want
do we?

— The End —