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Cassia Jun 2018
Pause for a moment
A moment in true
I know who you are
And these words are for you

Now take a deep breath
Listen closely to me
Look into my words
And tell me what you see

I know you won't stop
You'll read with a glance
What you do not know
Is my heart's in your hands

Within my soft words
The poems I write
Is a piece of my mind
Only now in the light

The stories I tell
May not be my own
But they are still there
Whether real or unknown

I warn you, my friend
That the key to my mind
Is through what I write
And what I let you find.
Shea Nov 2018
I walk with a straggle,
The chains become tighter with
Every step.
You see, this is my reason for
Giving up.

"You hold the key
to your own shackles"

I can set myself free,
With what ambition,
when my hands are tied?
What's the point of changing
When I've lied
For them to Believe I'm fine?

They say you can change,
They say it's possible to Believe
In something other than pain.
For this, I won't give up.
For this, I'll keep going
Until my hands don't reach
As low as my shackles hang.
ryn Nov 2014
/   \
I|   \
I|   /
  I|   . >
   I|     \
    I|      /  
   I|      >
  I|     >
   I|     .\
      I|        .>
•you found
a **key
that wasn't yours
•brazenly opening and entering
boarded doors•pardon this intrusion,
i do so unwillingly•although i only
have myself                 to blame for
not treading this path,
Lovelyn Eyo Jul 11
There are many keys to a door
Without the keys
you can't secure-keep
Or open to great possibilities
You're yet to reach
Do your best in the present
To get the key of the future

Education is Key
to the door of a great future
The basic necessity that bridges the gap between the poor and rich
I may not be rich today
But with this key
I will be rich someday
invest wisely in education
Don't let this precious gift
Be a deprivation
For with it we'd be
Key-Leaders of the future
Education- my pride:
is the KEY

We all need this key: tis A right and THE right
Gabriel burnS Nov 2018
Ash outside
Sparks - encased
Just deny
If the world peeks
Through the keyhole

For it was meant for
It was meant for One

Whose eyes unlock the door 'cross the threshold
Mystic904 Oct 2017
Ye won't comprehend what I mean
Unless acquire the eyes to have seen
Emotions by their true image
Do you know what I mean?

Once harnessed power to play with emotions
Impossible seems revival, work no potions
When crawl back half alive
Anaesthetised images, walking drunk motions

That deep sorrow, sadness and pain
The efforts and struggles all in vain
Isn't what you cry for and say?
Ask thyself,
Who drove you into that lane

Pitch dark corners of thoughts arouse the feel
Four stanzas including this one's just half meal
Clouds of this kind circle forever
Pressing the haunting words, in time I'll heal
Presence of happiness none sees, a pity
As we surmise, there does exist a Deity
For a reason, all this emerged
In everything, there might be something pretty
Once gripped that strange feel in the prayers
Shall form over body, invisible protective layers
Addition in tons, not kilos
Of sagacity, on each climb of the stairs
Life devoid of expectations isn't the option
The mindset's worthy enough for adoption
Great expectations pave dirtiest of roads
Too precious to be displayed up for auction
On Him can we lean and must firmly believe
Direct contact's the medicine for mind's relief
Affordable yet unaffordable jewels await
For the closest beings in His regard to receive

F.A teeri
Lovelyn Eyo Jul 30
Depression sneaks into my sight
You can Unsneak it with a fight
Let out this negative entity
With your will-might
Don't permit its suppression
Tis an oppression
you must kick out
Let it flow only out
And never to flow in
To give it a rout
I stand with you
For the collection
of its recollection
Put your mind under
Lock and key
Only positivity can open

Specially for Eva and all dear ones out there, staying positive is a choice you can pick, **
Purcy Flaherty Feb 2018
Have a little slice of key lime pie; get down on your knees and get real high,
'cause mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie!

Spank step, toe hop, cramp-shuffle, paddle and roll;
Mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie.

Dig deep, riff-walk, clunk-click, scuff those feet;
Mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie!

Soft shoe or metal tap on the heel or toe, get your shoes on honey here we go!

Tastes so good, tastes so neat,
it’s a sweet and salty treat!
'cause mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie!
The oral tap dance

Song link below:
Kiahlee Jan 2018
Your the reason I stay up at night,
and look up at the stars that shine so bright.
I wonder if your sitting up in bed thinking of me too,
I wish I could read your mind, I wish I knew.
I wish you would hold me tight,
as we walk under the moonlight.
I wish I could wear your sweatshirt,
and hold your heart so it don't hurt.
I know I'd love you till the end,
and I would be your best friend.
I would never leave you behind,
and you'd always have a place in my mind.
Someday I will tell you how much you mean to me,
but till then I will keep my feelings under Lock and Key.
To my amazing crush
This key to my heart
is meant to be
a cherished gift-
not one thought of
as a simple possession!
Within your hand-
I'll give you my only key
to open a lifetime
full of dreams
and mystery!
Are you ready to take
this key to my heart?
Are you willing to be
the keeper of my key?
If you accept this key-
all I'd ask of you,
is to hold it close to
your heart and
never let it go...


COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
Lo, the waxing moon  
eyeing on heaven
ups a notch high.
The higher it goes
pulls the tides more
down on the sea
the crescent moon sways.

It bows down and prays
as it sails towards
the locked away
heaven far, far away.
The sea spilling billow
floats the key
to the tucked away ally way!
still hurt
still mad
still shattered

on some level

but I know
none of that matters
under the blazing light
of hearts flung into the fire

and at the end
of this precious life
what's going to count
is how well we stood

with starched spines
back to the black winds
whipping eager at our
worn, forlorn ears
and said


to pain and fear
running the show

and got up
- ever up -

and unlocked
our fractured citadels
with key at center:

compassion -

the bridge to
Linus Stevenson Jun 2018
Let me tell you a story
Listen and learn
There was a Shepherd, a good Shepherd
Kind and loving, courageous and strong
He had 100 sheep
and the sheep loved the Shepherd
And so when one sheep wandered
The good Shepherd left the 99
And went after the one

And you might think you know this story
But I'm afraid it's not what you think
Because I am not the one...

I am one of the 99 left behind
Waiting for the Sheppard to return
Trapped by the walls of this fence
The posts and wooden planks
That contain us
Being lead by the very sheep that are
We walk in circles around the pen
Around and around... circles
Eating up the food we have
We begin to eat each other
And as demented as that sounds
It's true
Biting and gnawing
Bleeding and bruising
We turn to other sheep for nourishment
For truth... for guidance
But we are sheep all the same
Another one of the 99 left behind

Sheep is what we are
Be careful not to tater your fur
Careful not to tear or cut
To show the underneath
The skin that doesn't flatter but
Burns with the red of your hate
Your pride... Your sin

When will the Sheppard return
And open the fence
Lead to new grass
and water

There are sheep I've never seen before
Black sheep.
have you seen black sheep?
Yes sheep with spots but these sheep
They are black from head to toe
Their snouts are long and
they have sharp teeth
Strange that they have not hooves but paws
Appearing as wolves wearing sheeps clothing
They are mending the fence
The fence! It's broken!
Suddenly we realize we are not safe
Quickly, grab your hammer and nails!
Let us work with these black sheep...
to mend... the fence... around... us

Who built this fence?
Was it the Sheppard?
Cloudy as my memories be of the man
with the scars in his hands and side
This does not resemble his work
Who... built... these... walls?
These bars... This cell
With no key and a steeple?
Oh God, who built these walls?
No it wasn't the sheppard.
The walls he built had doors
And windows to let the light in
No... We have built these walls
The 99 left behind were not left...
We left.

We left the fence! The pasture!
The place of love and safety.

We are not the 99 left behind but the one
We are the one who wandered and strayed
And seeing that we were in territory unsafe
We built walls without doors
that trapped us inside... in darkness

Find us
Break down
These walls
Rebuild them
With windows
To let the Light in
hsyclara Jan 25
Movie credits descend and sink
to the bottom of the tv screen;
Admire the time travel of a blink,
repositioned on the bed, not keen

Expired pills; motivating my pulse
Hands shifting; trying to keep up
and end this life which by day gets worse
Free this defunct soul and succumb

And in that moment,
the silent tear that doesn't cease formation;
i have surrendered, time is in halt
The sadness salt, in a state of reconstitution,

But death wasn't part of the victory
She was another night of bedridden dreary
Pre-measured mentality
part anxiety
part agony;
retaining me as an emissary
to unearth my mystery

where do my nightmares trail?
who fogs my thoughts at night?
who tallies off my breaths?

So yes, those pills;
those expired ******* pills
did not give me the answer
Instead, i woke up to another whisper
September Roses Jul 2018
A little box
Without a key
You hold an air
Of mystery
To sit and glare
Right up there
Flashing red in front of me

I am the one who fills it
And I fill it with myself
No one would guess what's in you
Sitting up atop my shelf

I have thought of your discovery
The pros
And all the cons
But looking at my history
All candidates are wrong

So I suppose you'll stay a secret
I'll keep you to myself
Painted red,
Flashing dread
Little box on my shelf
Please forget you saw this
Yall feel free to tell me why you guys all like this poem so much. Curious
Logan Robertson Jun 2017
His Key Unlocked Her Door

As the piano man plays her song
The ivories of his eyes dance along
He plays on her keys
The sweetest melodies
Rising onto his pitch her heart twang

Logan Robertson

Oh, the chains of this world
like an earthly hell
Oh, how the envelope me
seeking to bind
in a prison of eternal sorrow and pain.
Oh, how I struggle for the key
to unlock your body and soul.
Oh, a treasure I have long dreamed of
since the days unborn.
Oh, heavenly angel
for you alone I die
and for you I shall live  evermore.
Oh, other men
how they climb their mountain
and swim their deepest seas
and the whole world seek to conquer.
But you alone are my goal
and your heart
worth the hearts of a thousand angels.
Oh, and though I must struggle
till the stars fall from the sky
and the world grow old and die
I  shall not cease
till I hold you in my arms
and your heart is mine
and forever together we are bound.
abby Nov 2017
Too often, when I begin my poems- I turn on the caps lock key. I want the letters to be big and tower above my body so maybe I’ll be able to believe they actually mean something. What I am still learning, is you cannot always start out screaming. You can not always begin with ripping your hair out and spitting out your own tongue, you cannot always start with passion. Sometimes you need to work up to it as if you are riding the gondola just to see the sunset meet the waves. For so long, I believed poetry wasn’t real unless it was uninterrupted. It didn’t truly matter unless it all come out at once, unless you are imagining and rewriting the next line before you even finish the first. Is it even art if you stop halfway to think about what word sounds best?

Well, who’s to say its not?

Art exists for two reasons, to make your audience feel something, and to calm down the rapids within your own veins. Sometimes we choke or we spit or we throw it all up but no matter how it flies out of our paper matte lips, it still fills our lungs the same. You are like the ash I flick off of the burning skyline my cigarette is. I always compared you to an ocean, because I could drown in your eyes, but you are not quite so vast. You are not as important as I make you out to be. (Or at least that’s what I’d like to believe.)

Maybe you are everything, maybe you are the shooting star that rolls by my window just slow enough for me to spot it in the sky. Maybe you are that crack in the sidewalk where the weeds and dandilions took out their latest mortgage. Maybe you are all the things I told myself I would detatch from your name.

I cannot keep these promises to myself no matter how hard I try, two years later and you’re still my biggest influence. There has been a block in my bloodstream since I lifted my fingers from the keyboard, since I let the lightning stop starting fires.
There has been a hold up but if we are putting it all out in the open, I still try to swallow my feelings for you because you liked me best when the fibers of my sweater were caught in my zipper. You liked me best when I had too much cotton in my mouth for me to even breathe.

I’ve been spitting and coughing up poetry since I could speak, I have been substituing and backspacing until I found perfection in my own words, especially considering I couldn’t find anything else about myself even remotely close to perfect.
You are the only thing in this world that’s truly left me speechless.

But the words I never got the chance to say, are growing stale on my tongue.
I call this; rocket ship poetry.
It is like the day after the night of drinking. Of stomach bile and bread eating and promising to a god that only exists once in a while that you will never, ever, drink again.
It is the way you remember an angry middle aged man banging on the door before he burst in, fuming mad that you forgot to turn the lights off.
It is real and it happens so quick sometimes you don’t even see it coming. It is the pink ***** on your window sill from that party where you didn’t even feel drunk.
The time where silver smiles painted your skin to match the depth of your veins. All the flowers you picked out of the ground from their roots.
There is no stopping it when it’s arrived, there is no way to unravel it.
It is a rocket ship because you count down the seconds until take off and before you know it the stars are in your ears and you hit the caps lock key, and it isn’t because you want the letters to mean something, it’s because they mean so much already that you need to raise your voice.
You need to stop using periods and start using commas because after awhile you get tired of being interrupted. You get tired of taking two trips and saying what you want to scream. You just get tired. There is broken glass rattling around inside of you, and sometimes it’ll slash you open from the inside but you are going to be okay.
Sometimes you will get too close to the flame,
but it’s better to get burnt,
then to burn out.
Tyler Skidmore Nov 2018
Times and trial bring the light
To things that happened
Everything that might
I know in my heart I can be
Everything everyone needs me to be
Darling you helped
To open my eyes
Through the time you have set me free
And when I complete
All my tasks and my dreams
Will you
My love
Stay forever with me?
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