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Hot chocolate no longer tastes like chocolate

Tea gets me as drunk as wine

I get about as high on cigarettes as I would rosmerry or thyme

The clocks in my house have stopped ticking

Though I never stop to check

There's a litter of stray kittens, outside my door, on the front step

Although time has stopped passing
And the gods have fallen asleep

I still find myself laughing
That I've wept to much to weep
Ive had a few people wonder
Its limbo
You laugh
Angels weep out of jealousy
Devils have no single conspiracy
Demons dancing in harmony
Men hearts go broken with no remedy
Women eyes tearing continuously
Violins break out of envy terribly
Composers have no more creativity
Music plays with no melody
Silence starts listening joyfully
Happiness laughters left in agony
Beautiful words describe nothing but misery
Tulip flowers become colorless shamefully
Believers lose their faith immediately
Infidels drop their convictions instantly
Hearts start beating rapidly
Lungs oxygenating quickly
Living ones laying listening carefully
The dead come back miraculously
You Laugh. Version 1.
Why do we weep,
When one day upon the
soil we will be, placed
Our grief
upon the shoulders of time and memories, traced
By the ones who still
Breathe

Why do we weep,
When one day we will be buried in the earthen ground, deep
Hearing our cries, none but Earth

But yet,
Why do we attack her sacred soil, so fiercely
With no thought of the day,
When He will place us at the mercy of her walls,
Of gravel and dirt?

Then, we must weep.
08.08.2018
Peter Balkus May 3
It's 3 a.m.
and I can't sleep.
Much louder than in a daytime
at night willows weep.
Sara Kellie Jul 24
Promise me, my flesh you'll place
'neath a fledgling willow tree.
And as it grows toward blue sky,
It's in its grace you'll hear me cry.
Laden with the heaviest fears,
resembling, reflecting
my darkest years.

A fragile bone was once my arm,
so likened to the willows charm.
It's branches delicate,
could ne'er do harm.
It's soft and fluffy hand like bud,
encased in skin, the willow's wood.

Hold its hand at branches end.
My message, a vibration,
to you I'll send.
Until the death of said willow tree,
reminding you . . . . .
. . . . . . always of me.

Poetry by Kaydee.
The tired and deathly willow tree with stories to tell of debutantes, swinging
before entering ****.
Weep no more my child
I can see your eyes worn out with wailing
Your heart bursting with argony
And an exhaustion of hopelessness dwelling upon you

Weep no more my child
For I knew upon my death
You would be shattered within
Floating in a river of unanswered questions
Crashed by waves of regret and sorrow
Looking for a way to make it all stop
Perhaps hope to wake up
And realize it was just another dreadful nightmare

Weep no more my child
There is nothing more you could have done
To stop the jaws of death
From claiming my life
For my time had come
But I depart with overwhelming joy and satisfaction
Knowing you were there up to the very end

Weep no more my child
For I made sure you could stand on your own
Am confident the strong person I've groomed you to be
Can face the tides and storms of this world
And the morals I've instilled in you
Will see you through all things

Weep no more my child
For you're not abondoned
Even though they now consider you an orphan
For through your character and every aspect of your life
Am visible to those who can't see me
And within your heart
I'll forever live
What a beautiful place to stay!

Weep no more my child
In you am alive
I feel my blood running through your veins
My strength radiant in your muscles
I see my courage in everything you do
And in your reflection I see myself

So weep no more my child
For am still here within your own self.
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2013
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank ***!
English Jam Apr 2
This desolate road seems forever long
And my worn feet will carry me through the ruin
All alone, but if you had heard my song
You might just understand why I’m doing
Maybe I’m the strongest person of us all
Maybe you’re used to me being alone
But that doesn’t mean that when I take a fall
I can survive, live on my own

Noticing someone else’s suffering is hard
Wrapped up in your troubles, with an aching heart
But if you open your eyes, you’ll see a man apart
If you can call me a man, I guess

Walking round with an unchanged expression
Ducking and keeping away from the deed
You might think it’s all to get attention
And you’re right, but that’s what I need
I knew a group of people whom my heart held dear
I loved them, and I love them still
But they weren’t there for me in my time of fear
Now I’m not gonna bend my will

How many days of quiet can I keep?
How many hours can I lay and dream?
How long can I hide away and weep?
Before you realise I’m not at best

So it’s time to say fare thee well
Don’t know where I’m strolling in my daze to
Just gonna follow my path down the well
See if it’s someplace new
So I’ve thought it through and through again
No pleading will make me change my head
Maybe, before, if I had a friend
But now, it’s too late to hear what I’ve said

The love I have for you will always burn
But my back’s to you, and I’ll always turn
If you haven’t figured it out, you’ll never learn
I want a hug, but I’m drowning in my sleepiness
Essentially a suicide note in the form of Bob Dylan style poetry. "Don't think twice, it's alright!"
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