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 Dec 2019
Corrinne Shadow
When I was small
I wrote a song.
It was as wild
As it was long.

I did not know
How to write words
And so I sang
With the morning birds.

Now I am grown,
I am depressed.
I write long things
Just to impress.

I do not sing,
I only sigh.
When I was small
I was alive.
 Dec 2019
B J Truax
Different stories
Different endings
Different paths
Different roads
Different outcomes
Different beginnings
Different pages turning
Different / Same?
 Dec 2019
B J Truax
Darkness rolled in at the middle
of the day.
Destruction soon followed and all
  She could do was pray.
Time to rebuild all that was lost-
Emotions ran high to keep it together no  
    matter the cost.
Dreams maybe shattered, the perfect
    family is gone-
She wondered if any of it was real or was
   She just the pawn?
 Dec 2019
B J Truax
She was a throw away girl.
The one that was used.
She was a throw away girl.
So many times abused.
She was a throw away girl.
 Dec 2019
Moses Michael N
Frantic for the freedom he long wished,
His poor pure soul, shrouded in the mysteries of dreams,
In his search for a world free of all that troubles,
His soul could find rest only in sleep,
There he could dream his dreams, of a land of peace and joy,
Free of wars and suffering that shrinks the heart of many,
The pure heart can tell of the truth he speaks,
In his real world, many a heart go broken with no remedy,
Happiness and laughter left in agony,
Loneliness and depression, looming,
An unwelcome visitor of the time,
Many around describe nothing but misery,
But in his dream he dreamed, all is fair,
A world free of men with full stores, but little heart to lend to him at the door,
What will become of all this human misery?
Come, let's go to sleep, so he said to him that cries,
So we can dream dreams, sweet dreams of freedom,
Welcome to the new age, with beaming lights that sparkle joy around,
The beautiful world of like minds, free of fake smiles,
With musics that strengthens and stirs the weak,
It is his dream world, free of earths miseries.

The wind, sifting its soft feathering fingers through his window,
The thunder, muffing even his most rancid reflections,
The waves, cleansing his soul of the darkness which terrifies,
The time is here once more,
The dim light of the moon, piercing through his window,
It is the dream world, so lovely and so beautiful,
A place free from earths miseries and worries that hurts,
It is a land of a far away strand.
The frivolous dreams he once possessed, away away it fades,
In his dreams he dreamed, the world is fair, free of uncaring folks,
The beauty therein, craving in him an never ending thought,
The lovely waters that flows, with beautiful water hyacinths,
The birds that chants in the woods, with beautiful flowers that blossoms,
The lovely night creatures that sings, with the moon giving its light,
The heavenly planetary bodies, in their kinds shining all around,
The wonderful sea creatures, in the deep leaping and swimming with joy,
The heart knows it, it is better in his dreams,
The happiness he long wish, in his dream world he could find,
A place free of earth's miseries.
Moses Michael N
Written by
Moses Michael N
(35/M/Nigeria)  
— The End —
 Dec 2019
Moses Michael N
Though they are not rich as they could be,
They are both as happy as they should be,
Many in the riches of this age, are lost in the maze of sadness,
In their little store, life has never been this lovely,
Upon this scene of joy, their soul long for eternity in their garden of peace,
Thousand upon their much, yet still craving,
They little have, yet seek no more,
The miseries of life, trodden under foot,
The look on their face, speaks thousand words,
The joy in their heart, flowing like many rivers of waters,
With songs that could tell their bond,
That melodious song that stills the soul,
And purge it of the worries beyond.
Though many a times, life throws the hardest of stones,
Yet their soul is as calm as the still-waters,
In their hearts, the future beams with sparkling light,
The stones are thrown to hurt and make afraid,
Deep down the inner mind, they could tell of the deceit beyond,
Their soul could not be shrouded by the hunt of past errors,
Neither can it shrink in the despair of the dark age,
Though the looming woes that betide many,
Hovering so strong, seeking the weak to trap,
They couldn't be held with such cruel chase,
Their heart is ever strong, with thousand courage,
To stand and to win, with look into a beaming morrow,
The case is simple, and the matter clear,
Their hope is built on nothing else,
The Maker alone could make all things beautiful,
Many a word can't tell the sweetness of the song in their hearts,
It is ever resounding, distilling in everything around,
It is the joy of living, the joy of the Maker,
Not of gold, not of diamond, nor of other precious stones,
And like the gathering of the birds in the woods,
Singing and playing with deepest joy, with every single sound,
Spreading the message of hope and love in every note,
Their last message is simple,
Both with enthusiastic sound, could say,
The future is bright, do not worry.
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