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 Oct 2017
J Robert Fallon III
The mistakes we make in life can make us crumble,
two bricks withering down can make the entire building tumble.

No matter how many times you create beauty the pessimist persists,
the mistakes always on the mind never out of the peripheral sights.

The realist looks at both sides and makes symphonies of insights.

Rise above your two mistakes and focus your lens on the beauty around.

This will lead to a building and mind on the most solid ground.
 Oct 2017
SHEROVIN ACROSTIC
On a cold winter morning, in the time before the light.
In flames of death's eternal reign, we ride towards the fight.

When the darkness has fallen down, and the times are tough alright.
The sound of evil laughter falls around the world tonight.

Fighting hard, fighting on for the steel through the wasteland evermore.
The scattered souls will feel the hell, bodies wasted on the shores.

On the blackest plains in hell's domain we watch them as they go.
Through the fire and pain and once again we know.

So now we fly ever free, we're free before the thunderstorm.
On towards the wilderness our quest carries on.

Far beyond the sundown.
Far beyond the moonlight.
Deep inside our hearts and all our souls.

So far away we wait for the day.
For the lives all so wasted and gone.
We feel the pain of a life time lost in a thousand days.
Through the fire and flames we carry on.

As the red day is dawning and the lightning cracks the sky.
They'll raise their hands to the heavens above with resentment in their eyes.

Running back through the mid morning light, there's a burning in my heart.
We're banished from a time in a fallen land, to a life beyond the stars.

In your darkest dreams see to believe  our destiny is time.
And endlessly we'll all be free tonight.
And on the wings of a dream so far beyond reality.
All alone in desperation, now the time has gone.

Lost inside you'll never find.
Lost within my own mind.
Day after day this misery must go on.

So far away we wait for the day.
For the lives all so wasted and gone.
We feel the pain of a life time lost in a thousand days.
Through the fire and flames we carry on.

Now here we stand with their blood on our hands.
We fought so hard, now can we understand.
I'll break the seal of this curse if I possibly can.
For freedom of every man.

So far away we wait for the day.
For the lives all so wasted and gone.
We feel the pain of a lifetime lost in a thousand days.
Through the fire and flames we carry on.
 Oct 2017
Mystic904
Grand edifices, seem pretty nice
Hoarding up money, such a heist
Pockets full, everything to boast
All that luxury, all that toast

Curtains of wealth, over those eyes
Trapped in such a state of vice
Stockpiles of silver and gold
Deal, a sign, everything sold

Wealth in reality, zero a price
Counting em, this year x thrice
Pretending to be above n bold
The stiff heart you couldn't mould

Crawling over body, ants and lice
Scorpions too, it's nothing nice
Shivering with fear and cold
The pain, agony, all foretold

In the grave, horrendous mice
Game's over for the rolling dice
No one to tell, weren't you told
To that paper now grab a hold

May it be Burj khalifa, all those malls
The huge tall towers, everything falls
Sabotag shall suffer those proud walls
(Awaits!)
The vast stage, superior than all halls
 Oct 2017
Thomas
They say it takes years to establish a true friendship,
I have found a true friend,
Or at least I thought I had,

Once they see the invisible man,
Your true nature,
They will abandon you,
Their friendship with you,
Their trust in yopenness,
It will all disappear into the dust,

My friends have discovered the monster that is my cancer,
I have shared everything with them,
Then you have nothing left to share,

Now I am all but a memory,
A regret in the circle of friends.
It’s a poem
 Oct 2017
Valsa George
amid scurrying feet
in the whirling humanity
with divided aims
and sizzling brains
she paused with singularity of purpose

never in a hurry, more at peace
on a park bench, alone
bent and weird, she sat.
when she moved
her bones creaked
on rusty hinges!

ragged in dress, torn in body,
face scourged by Time,
its contours deep like ravines
her withered *******
hanging like nests of tailor birds
hair lying disheveled,
with eyes shrouded in mist
she looked out into the sinking sun,
never dreading the darkness that falls

the park bench was her temporary halt

she sat there every evening
determined to live on,
with the coins habitually dropped
into her outstretched hands
by those sailing past her
unobtrusive self.

like a monument of patience
she sat.
sat, so alone!
 Sep 2017
Born
Be prepared for anything

For loss of lives with no reason
an imposed treason
on your very existence

You'll feel like you are
the blackest or the whitest man on earth
racism shoved down your throat
and the hate keeps coming

Peoples morals will be axed
principles thrown out the window
we'll do anything
to get everything

Tyranny will have allies
Your complains will be put
"under advisement"
for you matter not

then you'll truly know
order, brotherhood and love
was nothing but a speech
and speeches are for campaigning

So I say
you quickly and quietly
Open that can of coke
and drown your emotions on a failing heart
like you've been taught

Or open your eyes
to the deep slumber of disillusionment
you've been subjected to.

And then you'll know
for the sake of peace
you gave up your freedom
 Sep 2017
Poetry First
nibbling on the rainbow the saffron flag
is swaying, bearing
a crooked smiley emoticon these days

sometime ago…
the land beamed with pride
as happy lips of backgrounds varied
in jingles of diversity revelled

but no more, no more today…
scars mar in face of fading acceptance
spirit of songs of oneness being muffled by
voices intimidating, dominant and intolerant

for birds of minorities
dark clouds smear the skies
and fear assails their hearts
to spread their wings too wide to fly

mob lynching awaits if ‘wrong’ meat
found on your plate

and your verses of dissent
could be your gateway to prison
or invite a cold ****** at your door-step
*saffron is the colour of the flag of the right-wing fundamentalists, 'wrong' meat refers to beef that they are opposed to

Free speech and secular values face an increasing threat from the fundamentalist forces. Yesterday, a senior journalist, critical of right-wing extremism was gunned down in Bangalore, India.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/sep/05/indian-journalist-gauri-lankesh-critical-of-hindu-extremists-shot-dead-in-bangalore
 Sep 2017
J Robert Fallon III
I've been on the low.

I've been taking my time,
I feel like I'm out of my mind,
It feels like my life could never be mine.

I don't wanna be alive
and let me tell you why.

All the **** speaking happening and presently occurring, as those same culprits pop up in my head as if I'm memorizing.

I've been praying for somebody to save me, but no one's heroic.
My life doesn't even matter, I know it, I know it...or at least I tell my myself that.

I'm hurting deep down but why can’t I show it?
I never had a place to call my own.
I never had a home, ain't nobody callin' my phone.

Where have you been? Where you at? What's on your mind?
They say every life precious but nobody cares about mine.

I've been on the low.
I've been taking my time.
I feel like I'm out of my mind.
It feels like my life ain't mine.
Who can relate?

-- Alex Wilson, 2017
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