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Jayce Feb 2019
I checked my net
but all I got was catfish

Conversations opened, and suddenly
the sight of a notification from "Miah"
makes my heart race

Five days pass and I'm tempted to talk about her
but she doesn't exist in the
"real world"
so I twist my tongue inside my mouth
and hide the secret of her beneath it

I cannot jinx what isn't real, or tangible
because it's easy to believe in god but "Miah" is 400 miles away
I've only seen her face pixellated on a screen

The implication is planted that I should know more
Mythical creatures are hard to believe in
and then,
"Miah's" phone number is linked to "Mike's" smiling face at his graduation

I've put my heart online and the viruses ate at it
but here in the
"real world"
I'm just another fool with a net full of catfish
For the Sparrows Nov 2012
I'd rather be in this world
where we share our hearts and stories
Instead I am prisoner to an essay
that is due tomorrow morning

Art history is interesting
It intrigues my hungry mind
But I keep tumbling into blankness
The anxiety is leaving me blind

Please pray that I finish it
and that I get a reasonable grade
If you can give words of encouragement
you will have my night made

you will have my thanks!

I hope I'm not up too late
I hope I have some time for sleep
Good -bye for now hello poetry
I think its time for tea.


Miah~ the weary procrastinator
I think I'll make some chai... it has caffeine.
PS. You are all beautiful.
Miah is the girl I was:
And in a way I envy her.
She only felt artificial pain
That the character creator gave her.

Ben is the one who was my friend,
But who showed his true colors later
When I needed him most, he left me alone
As a character, he was barely even hated.

Connor, well, his story's not told
While I'm still reeling from his counterpart's words
I plan to write it soon, and then
I will spare her no allegorical hurt.
This poem basically says how I wrote a story based on people in my life, but the story was much kinder to the main character than real life ever was.  http://www.serialstoryauthor.blogspot.com/ Read the story here.
Robyn Neymour Feb 2013
Love has no boundaries,
When it comes to you and me,
I’d rather break more limbs together
Than to climb the highest tree,
Without you.

Creativity you are,
In its highest prospective,
You are a ball player,
Somehow love has connected,
In our play time.

I’m sure you remember,
Scratching each other’s back,
We got so tired of each other,
The sunlight would dim,
Until our eyelids showed black.

Your laughter,
A joy it, brings to my soul.
Once it was annoying,
But annoyance turned into,
Memories that would be told.

You are a human being,
I’ve seen you shed a tear,
As your older sibling,
It only pushed me to be stronger,
So that I can show you how much I care.

I believe in you,
Your struggles and your efforts,
To overcome,
You are an inspiration to me,
Remembering you are God’s Son.

Positivity will never fall behind,
In a trail that you blaze,
Your footsteps will be the next mark,
Of the followers,
That you will raise.

It takes two to tango,
You handle us three very well,
You me and Miah,
A bond that no other three,
Will ever share.

So to you my kind-hearted,
Little "Big" brother,
Remember to love,
Because you are the product,
That was sent from above.

Love your “Little” big sister.

© Robyn Neymour
For the Sparrows Nov 2012
The Earth.
A gift. A precious gift.
Why do we treat it so harshly
or rather neglect the Artist?
The world.
It meant for us to cherish. to protect. to change.
The world is yours,
yours to see
yours to smell
yours to taste
yours to hear
yours to touch
Your time on the earth is precious.
Why invest trying to blend into the world,
to become a part of it?
Listen children,
you were born to stand out.
You have wings.
Solid ground beneath your feet
is where you feel comfort.
You've forgotten,
You have wings!
Time is precious,
yet there is a time for everything.
It's up to you to divide
Just remember,
You were born with wings.
You were born to protect. to change. to cherish.
But most of all,
to LOVE.



Miah, daughter of the Artist
Bob B Jun 2022
Uvalde, Texas. Miah Cerrillo,
A child only eleven years old,
Will never forget a day in May
As she watched a horrible scene unfold.

She was in class when a shooter entered
And massacred kids before her eyes.
The weapon that he used was the type
That spews bullets that pulverize.

To save herself, Miah thought fast.
To trick the killer, she tried to pretend
That she was dead, and that she did
By smearing herself with the blood of a friend.

Perhaps her decision saved her life.
She is lucky to still be alive.
But nineteen other children and two
Teachers sadly didn't survive.

What are lawmakers going to do?
Will they be among the ones
Who truly believe deep down in their hearts
That kids are more important than guns?

-by Bob B (6-10-22)
Hakikur Rahman Jan 2021
Waves of water flutters
The Jamuna is inundated
The waves stuck towards
Rahim Miah's house courtyard.

The house is in the river bank
Passes his life by catching fish
Seeing the tide and web
He keeps all of his family in the house.

However, there is heavy fear is his mind
When the house would be washed away by the wave
Yet, he was bound to the chest
Hoping for life.

— The End —