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Amanda Woolley Jul 2016
Two wounded healers finally able to see,

he removed his blindfold same time as me.

Shot down, scarred and battle weary

still able to march on fearlessly.


Chasewater showed an answer we didn't expect,

and showed us a purpose we won't forget.

The purpose we didn't see, the one we couldn't believe,

awakened from the moment all hope began to leave.


We thought the night held a different surprise,

didn't realise it would open our eyes.

Call it an awakening, two heros come alive,

not given what we want but what we needed to survive

We have realised who we are to each other

and have learnt now that we are more than sister and brother



We are the angel on each others shoulder whispering keep going on

we are the crutch holding up one another keeping our friend strong

We are the sword and the shield, the key to the door

both of us defeated? Nevermore
Fell in love with my friend camping by a lake called chasewater. We used to call each other brother and sister to try to marginalise our feelings for each other.
Michael John Aug 2018
ii


lunch


iii

over lunch i chewed
with my few remaning
while glancing in the mirror

and i saw myself
for the first time
as i truly am

and somethings
slid into place
i think they call it

an epithany
i have been trying
of late

through various discipline
and just catching
dissapearing

but memories one
would imagine lost
have come

to explain and
raise further
questions

in my pursuit
of me ..in
knowing oneself
there is taboo

but what to do
but in my reflection
just for a moment..

recognition
Rachel Oct 2013
My brother has forgotten
The way ivy grows on fences
And trees.
Let me show you the way ivy grows.

You have to start small,
Smaller then a humming bird,
Pretend your here with me.
You wont see me if your passing by,
Im behind a ten foot fence.
I heard the gas pedal excelerate.
If your listening now.
You have to yank the thin vines
Until there's a basket ball court.
Yank the vines until you see
The dump behind the fence you
Always wanted to know what was
So private.  
It was a rusty wheel barrel next to a
Dead lawnmower.  
The years are a epithany like the lost baseballs.
Be the green monster that makes us forget.
Let the ivy hide what it hides.
But, one day you and I will have to loose our
Grip on the house we used to call home.
Michael John Nov 5
woke
opening eyes
we have epithany

when you left me
i realised but
only too late..

— The End —