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i frequent the bars
       dumpsters
and graveyards
       i like the graveyards
best
        you cant beat the
conversation
 Jan 2016 kailasha
Poetic T
She expelled them all, floating like lifeless
Baubles hanging in airless light.

They glimmered in frozen shimmers,
Silence blessed her being.

A woman scorned, cleansed of ants crawling
Upon her being, now healing once more.
its only a matter of time before she get fed up with our immaturity and expels us.
 Jan 2016 kailasha
Joe Cole
In the gloomy winter months reading this one always cheers me up so I decided to repost it*

You Should Believe

You should believe in magic and the world of make believe
Of dragons who spout gold dust instead of fire when the sneeze
Of little folk wearing soft green hats with long white beards and such
Well you should believe in all those things because by magic you are touched
That tinkling noise in dead of night that has no earthly cause
That is the magic in the air and that magic is all yours
Believe in witches, black cats, cauldrons on fires bright
Believe in knights from ancient times in armour gleaming bright
Think about the moon dust making diamonds in the sky
Think about the magic surrounding you and I
 Jan 2016 kailasha
Chloe Zafonte
I don't want to be the cause of someone else's distress, when in reality I'm an even bigger mess.
 Jan 2016 kailasha
mysterious
I do not know what poetry means.
But when I look hard enough, I see it everywhere.
 Jan 2016 kailasha
mysterious
I need somebody to right my wrongs.

Because I can only write my wrongs.
 Jan 2016 kailasha
devante moore
At the crossroads
I made a deal with her
That If she saved me
I would give my life to her daily
She would become my prescription pills
As the deal was sealed
Taming my pain
As others were slain
In the sacrifice of her name
Poetic justice she exclaimed
She was beauty
A living symphony  
And I plague with devotion
To show I'm faithful and capable
I don't stop until my fingers bleed
She doesn't need anyone else but me
Writing scriptures
Until she had her fill
A slave to the pages
To satisfy her nonexistent cravings
I'd scribe to her till my dying days
Without her I'd go insane
She's all I have left
Poetry
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