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My inner child like ways

I Chased that beautiful firefly and
Just when I thought it was in reach
I lifted my hand with excitement
To hold it
But I tripped and fell
Down that cliff

Beautiful things can be deadly
Jane Dec 2018
Dust, in the air
unseen impurity.

The spectrum of humanity, good and bad.
Black and white.

Being submerged in the black feels unnatural, unlike me.

I'm calling on my star for something unattainable,
pushed under the carpet.

It's presence sparkled when I saw a child laughing at the sky.  


To wear blue, and feel serene,
To wear yellow, and feel joy,
To wear pink, and feel love,
To wear purple, and feel life.

I used to wear Innocence.

I dress differently now,

I wear emerald green, and feel anxious,
I wear a cloudy grey, and feel impersonal.
I wear stained white, and feel everything
I wear only black, and feel nothing.

I wear sin now.

I'm all the things I once wished upon a star not to be.
Kimberley Jan 2018
4"2 with the voice of an angel
he couldn't be more than ten
the only thing he ever stole was the hearts of those around him

a week later,
his body drains of blood
a mother's cry echoes around the town
her innocent baby
why'd they **** her innocent baby?
he was only nine.

a mother's cry echoes around the world
her baby's gone
blood drains from his body
one shot to the head
several to the torso
why'd they **** her baby?
he was only coming from school.

a shaken up officer stands to the left
Caucasian and worried
a grieving community to the right
African-American and terrified

straight A's and a bright future at seventeen
a future no-one could foresee
both labeled thugs
at 9 and 17

because of the skin they keep.
Kim Essary Oct 2018
So sweet and young at the age of ten, yet endured more loss and and hurt than most ever will.
So many things about your precious life have been stripped that it doesn't seem real .
Four years ago when we first met I had no idea that you would become so very special to me.
Your Daddy was doing his very best raising his little girl but there was so much he didn't see.
You needed a woman in your life to teach you certain things.
The progress that you have made has left me more than proud of you.
You have transformed into a beautiful young lady and make A's and B's too.
But a tragedy has entered your already broken life as God called you Daddy home.
Now I don't get to see you, they've taken you away from everything and everyone you have ever known.
My heart hurts so bad , I want to hold you and tell you everything is going to be alright .
I've grown so close to you, it's like I can feel you crying in your new bed at night.
I miss you my little Luhoo and love you more than you know.
I never dreamed I wouldn't be in your life to watch you as you grow.
We use to look up at the clouds and tell each other what we see.
I may not be there with you baby girl but Everytime you look at the clouds now please think of me.
A child that has touched my heart and made so much progress in her life her daddy was killed in a motorcycle wreck I was the only thing besides him she knew and now she's been taken away from me. My heart hurts so bad for her
Marilyn Heavens Oct 2018
A silhouette in darkness
strolling through a street.
A lonely man, a lonely soul,
who wonders where he goes?
Heading home no doubt
or maybe he’s a lout.
Walking into mischief,
or just a ticket tout
No one could ever know
what lies within his brain?
Or is he just a guiltless man,
or someone gone insane.
Whatever he may be,
whoever he may be.
His world is just as normal
As he or she or thee.
He walks upon a crowded street
but lonely is his soul.
Passing by without a thought
a world he used to know.
But now that world has changed,
and he is so alone.
He walks beneath a blackness
of shadows from the past.
A past of joyful times,
a past of blissful kinds,
a past of smiles,
a past of tears,
but most of all a past of fears.
This lonely shadow heading home,
Innocent and free.
His work is done, its time for fun.
Gone from shadow into sun.
He walks across a crowded street
with one thing on his mind.
His wife, his strife his daily life
cuts through his soul just like a knife.
Now that's what this mans all about
he is no lout or ticket tout!
He’s just a soul we do not see
Or maybe just an entity
CJ Feb 10
of unspoken sadness
hidden between each page

of loneliness
present after every line

full of desperation
only adding to the fire

of harsh insults
only repeated in each line

An unpublished book
only hidden among the
weak and innocent...
The only book, I would always read...
jeffrey conyers Sep 2018
So, he's a cheater.
So he's wealthy.
What's so strange to admit to many?
Women not all innocent in these scandals.

You cry Me-too or Me-three and it still is various takes on the matter.

Whether it's the comedian
The movie mogul.
Or the reddish clown of the United States.

In all situation, we notice some took money to quiet them into silence.

Now, they claiming this and claiming that.

But like many say in silence or around select friends.
Women, not all innocent in these matters.

Some people do anything for money.
And then we spin the tale before the press that goes into instant judgment.

Now, what kind of *** that a fool would pay 130, 000 most men can't state?
Some guys would tell her to call the Wahington Post, New York Time, and any other paper.

Wouldn't any money be paid?
Then we aware this a trait this man has in paying for the pleasure.

Do we feel this level to say the man to blame?
Deals, mainly with many ladies jumping on this "It happened to me too".
And some has the honest truth.

But then you go back to the seventies on one of the accusers.
Club 54 was more than a club for dancing and fun.
It was also a place to venture for joy.

Be at a man house when the spouse not there.
But that neither here or there.
Cause once accused many men can't win.

Even when in her mind she knew what you had planned.

In scriptures, Samson was a complete fooled.
The woman used all kinds of tricks to get the information she needed.
And in the in he came to regret it.
Siena Nov 2018
you flutter your eyelashes
as innocently as a butterfly flutters its wings
and yet you spit your poison
as viciously as a scorpion strikes its tail
you were never innocent and you knew it
Land of the free
words fed intravenuously
like opiates into opened veins
until the lies they tell us become truth

Propaganda filled drips
drown out the screams of the innocent
killed by fear and misdirected hatred
and soldiers fighting "wars" on terror

How then does the aggressor become hero?
while handing out oppression labelled as democracy
liberty  comes encased in the shell of a bullet
and if you resist.........freedom

comes quicker than you wish
Steven Oct 2018
What I visioned was warmed steel winds - brilliant soft glow
crystal Autumn light at the center of the heart
the rush of slow rains pulled away from its quartzed source
to let dance a sacred stray
away from the lucent ****
born herself to those turned monuments in our memory
an echo - the innocent born from the energy of a new Spring  -
quenched of a natural thirst
allowing a climb
like ascending fire dust from logs spent in the night -
Electric light.

What I found was that glow
but distant
the Autumn light absent its blare
The innocent echo dulled
because it was the idea that was the love affair -
not Electric - but Citrine light
like deserts  - magnetic to view yet ambitious to live
The quite crescent of ocean
absent the meld of sunned foamed height  - A liquid soar
or beiged meadows
the slightly felled allure of Sycamore.
Johnny Noiπ Aug 2018
times were so innocent
that there were places w/
names like Paper Dolls,
Pinup World & Centerfolds,
where one could rub flesh
w/ the actual **** stars who
later became performance
artists; art imitating life
imitating **** imitating
art as real ****, real art,
real life, not an imitation
Before Eve turned into...


...or evil tempted Eve.

She and Adam,


played amongst its leaves?

A sage could say they were the same,
parts of some degree,

Say so as they will about the double-tree?
For life and knowledge go


..which wife and husband weave.
Traditional rhyme.

All myth is based on observable celestial phenomena. As language has progressed and mankind has become more complex they take on a more modern character from each successive cultural interpretation. The original man was earth and the sun/sky was his consort.

Husband provides life, Wife provides knowledge.
Emily Jul 2018
I got a little older,
learned a lesson or two,
like how loving someone
could never be as poetic
as I wanted it to.
like how nothing
could ever be as poetic
as I want it to.
how can I accept
that the miracle of love
isn’t really a miracle at all?
how can I wrap myself
in someone’s arms
when I know
that there isn’t any sort
of poetic loving involved.
how do I unlearn
the romantic thoughts
that taught me
about the fireworks,
the butterflies,
and the fluttering fingers
in the dark.
and accept that
maybe kissing
won’t be as spiritual as I thought.
maybe it’s really just a mouth on mine.
how do I unlearn my innocent heart
who lulled me into a false sense of hope
for a lover who would call
the way my body moves
a lover who would feel
the poetry
in every word
I spoke in the dark.
We were two little children
with the sun on our skin,
playing ***** in the water,
innocent of sin.

Acting out our stories,
our games were all in fun,
playing ***** in the water
by the seashore in the sun.

We played at being heroes,
villains, crooks and thieves,
Peter Pan and Tinkerbell,
pirates on the seas!

Suddenly I'm longing
to find you once again,
to see if you remember.
Do you remember when?

Our eyes danced together,
how imaginations flew!
I've never been so happy
as when I played with you.

We were two little children
with the sun on our skin,
playing ***** in the water,
innocent of sin.
For Sue.
Copyright 2011 by Michael S. Simpson. All rights reserved.
Ilunga Mutombo May 2018
If a busy gun takes lives
Then silent leaders do worse
They burn lives, hang knuses on the innocent
Voice your pain or get blessed with a curse
Blood shed Schools
We elected fools
Wrong leaders to lead us
Pushing useless agenda’s
While feeding us propaganda
Halls covered red
thousands of innocent people killed
At the expense of gun reform laws
Watching news with dropped jaws
We sit in silence
while the voiceless die for peace
ArielMarriel Aug 2018
Why does poetry haunt me?
What does it want from me?
It lurks in the corners of my head.
It hides under the bed.

It whispers in the night so I can’t sleep.
It torments, taunts and creeps.

It used to be so innocent.
But not anymore.

I fear poetry is becoming
something I abhor.
**** you, poetry.
G2 Dec 2018
Cultivated feelings,
and falling tears.
already passed 140 days,
and I’m counting daily.
Don’t know why?,
But, it feels like,
You are pulling me silently.

Your presence is my strength;
And, I am weak minus you.
Want to live and die with you.
Waiting for you my Love
No more second guess.
Innocent soul and you.
Cné May 2017
shadows in the morning mist
phantoms in the fog
echoes in the murky light
that bounce around the bog.

from the chasms in my mind
where darker creatures dwell.
i looked into the deep abyss
and caught a glimpse of ****.

where winged angels fear to tread,
my dreams in twisted pose
descend with me to Hades' realm
where nothing ever grows.

except the fear i keep within
which never seems to sleep.
and this will grow in leaps and bounds
as lower down I creep.

but faith will rescue all despair.  
the morning mist will rise.
the sun will drive the demons back
to darkness where they thrive.

the angels take me in their arms
and raise me from the grave.
the darkest places close again
and trees, in breezes wave.

dark though dreams can often be,
the dawn will ever rise.
i wear faith like armor
and see through his disguise.

the Devil, ever vigilant,
invades when i am weak.
even if i'm innocent,
my fall he'll always seek.
Inspired by Traveler and Temporal Fugue
She Writes Sep 2018
Should I believe in a higher power
That I can not touch, see, or feel?
That lets innocent people be broken
Then worship him to heal

Should I trust that he is the reason
That I live every day
If I need a miracle
Drop down on my knees and pray

I don’t know how I feel
Or what I should believe
My god had forsaken me
Left me feeling naive

I want to trust
That he has purpose for me
From this indecision
I long to be free

Is blind faith a sign
Of strength or weakness
This indecision
Leaves me sleepless
sian 7d
in your arms a haven for my soul
your heartbeat, my lullaby
you whispered in my ear
sweetheart you are ethereal
heartbreakingly beautiful
So you touched
Pyrrha Jul 2018
I want
To fall in love with someones smile
To swoon under their gaze
To become dizzy with their touch

I want
To crave someone like an addiction
To nestle up to their warmth
To get an adrenaline rush from their scent

I want
To hold them and never let go
To tell them how much I love them everyday
To keep discovering them like it's my personal quest

I want
To give them my heart
To love them for all that they are
To keep them from the tainted world

I want
But what can I do with these contaminated hands?
How dare I try to hold them close with these hands of mine flowing thick with lies?
To tell them sweet nothings with my corrupted tongue?

My love
Is like a wildfire
Sudden, quick, and innocent
Without my permission my little spark turned into a flame
And consumed everything that contained a letter in your name

My love
Is like a wildfire
Untamed, ephemeral, and dangerous
It destroys all it touches,
Breaking barriers, burning bridges
It envelopes everyone in its warmth leaving no option but to run or turn to ash

Beware of my wildfire love
You cannot leave unscathed
I leave a scar

Beware of my wildfire, love
Because I'll burn enough for us both
I'll keep you warm on cold nights and dry on rainy days
I will set your heart ablaze and love you with all the force of my wildfire

Beware of my love,
It can't be forgotten nor replaced
This is the first time posting a poem on here as I am a new member, I hope whoever stumbles upon my work enjoys and relates!
Johannes Coetzee Sep 2016
I love the way you wrap your eyes around me
Your kitten eyes, snow white smile and innocent face
I love the way you and I hold hands and talk for hours
Our deep empty stares; ending with passionate kisses
I love it when you call me baby
Your eyes must be a reflection of your love for me
It seems to be the only thing linking your heart to me
I love the way you and I make love
So passionate
I love the way you appear in my dreams; bringing about light into my dreams
You and I
Just you and I
Like lovers do
Hussein Dekmak Sep 2018
I remodeled my home,
by ridding it of old furniture made of
dark and malice thoughts and redecorated
with thoughts of joy and inspiration.

I decorated the empty ceilings
with a full moon and some shinning stars,
I took down the draping’s that once covered the windows, and watched from my living room as the new dawn embraced the sunshine.

In my garden, I built a house for the melody birds to sing their songs,
And constructed a temple for prayer from my tears and sorrows,
I planted an olive tree in memory of the innocent souls,  decorated it
with some tulips, roses, and jasmine flowers for the anthem of love.

Hussein Dekmak
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