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 Jan 2017 Angel
Oskar Erikson
I'll be filed away
Compartmentalised heart
No point asking to stay
i no longer have to play my part
 Jan 2017 Angel
Jude kyrie
The darkness falls gentle from a pallet sky
A look of longing rest in my eye
The church bells sing the holiest blues
Are we to pass like yesterday's news?

I see dark endings oh so crystal clear.
I can hear your goodbye its almost here
Our past is dancing loves last waltz
It's mournful music sways and halts

Truth calls the moment to ignite the light
It's voice whispers between all wrong and right
Whispers are memories than hang on my breath.
Our loves tired and broken now ready for death

Touch lightly this moment with tears in our eyes.
Drown sorrows with music and play our goodbyes.
For hearts have a room where old loves are parked
And the future holds secrets in the darkest of dark.
Thank you Rebecca fr your lovely writing
Jude
 Jan 2017 Angel
Third Eye Candy
what abounds like love in it's infancy ?
a revival of Spring from an infinite well.
as such; love is the Sun. sundering ordinary doubt
as blind-spots boggle from the lightning fell...
what rainbows do when they shout. and all -
the music
that sustains you, blessed; from a realm
as cloudless as a newborn babe. there are stars.
and all the splendor of an ****** life
thrumming the lost chord, to the last song !
a host of ecstasies, tumbling in a waterfall of loose shackles
and open doors. love then, is the mark of a genius design
embedded in the viscera of Eternity. bristling with Time -
and all the majesty of the Flesh. it barks at the moon
and enthralls the latent flames that lay dormant in your soul.
how the world is new, but not innocent
concerns you not in the least.  

and Love is

You.
 Jan 2017 Angel
Wordfreak
A little boy stopped me today,
On my way past an overgrown field.
The one where the peewee teams play football.
He needled me,
"They'll put me in, right?"
And rambled.
"My daddy said he can't come to this game, by he'll come to the next one, won't he?"
He dreamed,
"I wanna be a soldier someday, and help people."
And my heart broke more and more as he kept talking.
Youth and innocence have their place.
So I walked on.

A tired man stopped me today,
Outside of my old high school.
His eyes were full of tears and madness.
"Please, for my sake, don't give in."
He sobbed.
"I don't want to end up this way."
His hands were scarred,
And his eyes scared.
"I want us to be better than this. I wanna be what we meant to end up as."
Age and wisdom aren't always synonymous.
So I walked on.

Past the field,
Past the school,
Past the struggling masses.

I stopped myself today,
On the edge of oblivion.
We're not done talking yet...
 Jan 2017 Angel
Olivia Kent
Missing,
The red.
Something a little like a shiny squirrel.
Once the colour was precious.
Rare.
Glowing.
Proud.
Cherished.
Protected.
Now,
Merely­.
An irksome rodent pest.
Is faded.
Still buzzing.
Skittish,
Scurrying.
Grey.
(C) LIVVI
A loose look at the changing colour of my hair.
Inspired by Matt Chamberlain
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