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 Nov 2020 Lulu Sarmiento
elaine
you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.
red flags went up everywhere, but i didn’t bother looking
in the winter
death is a white hare

in the summer
it takes the colour of the forest

this hare is rather fearful
it only sits on its hind legs
and looks around
careful not to be spotted

and as old as it is
no one has ever seen it
more than once
 Oct 2020 Lulu Sarmiento
E
The face in the mirror
the look in the eye's
that reflection ain't me it's just a disguise
the fading of hair
the wrinkles that bend
it's just a life story that's told on my skin
this man in the mirror he ain't really me
their's a child inside that want's to be free
that woman of mine you could say she's the same
sometimes in the covers we laugh and play games
but as I get old and my life bears thin
I think of the fun
and think of the friends
so you could say i'm kind of bold
it's just a part of getting old
A poem my dad wrote on his 45th birthday
we all thought it was funny but truth is
I think it was the greatest one he ever wrote
To burn like an ember is of no
worth till one doesn't glow like an
ember.
Imbibing books is far more easier than imbibing humans.
In a wordy battle with trivial dogmatic mentalities , I win by sandwiching my perspectives between my upper lip tubercle and lower lip tubercle.
When people put you down
stay unmoved on your ground
When a thing is over-rated
it tends to be exaggerated
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