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 Jul 2017 Mike Marshall
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my mother
 Jul 2017 Mike Marshall
m
at age 10,
my mother pointed
At the small birth mark
On my left knee and said,
"Someone's going to love
You for that one day."

At age 16,
I told her that a boy,
One far away,
Told me I was unloveable.
"He couldn't be more wrong,"
She promised.

At age 19,
She picked up my prescription,
And cried,
"I don't want you
To get your heart broken,
Mary." She sobbed.

The empty encouragements mean nothing,
When a daughter has decided
That the need to be tragically beautiful,
Is more important than the need
To be exceptionally loved.
i wrote this in 5 minutes I know it's stupid enjoy
I'm lost in a world of my own design
Withered and ravaged with pain

Locked inside my own mind
Soiled and torn..and stained

Unable to breathe, unable to cope
In a place I was born too late

Afraid of what may happen to me
Of what will be my fate

Memories tear away at my soul
Like claws of a demons hand

The little child inside of me
Withers away like sand

Into myself deeper I crawl
Hiding my eyes to the truth

The little child inside of me
Was taken in my youth

The tattered shreds that once were her
Are tear stained, ***** and gray

There is no hope of finding her
She was victim to the prey

Inside the prison walls of my soul
I throw away the key

For when they tore away the child
They destroyed me

June 17, 2017
I put elbows on the apron of my window,
my head is gently leaned on my right palm,
i am breathing in a soft, cooled breeze,
it makes me feel comfortably numb.

I hear tender singing from my neighbors yard,
and a dog barking somewhere far far away,
i ran trough these fields when i was just a child,
with many friends that left in search of their own way.

I sit here catching the last few sun-beams,
before they dive behind the hill,
i will go on a walk with my old man,
talking about my childhood thrills.
 Jun 2017 Mike Marshall
Mary-Eliz
I see you there
suspended for a time
between the shadow
and the light.

You look pale
but peaceful,
in a dream state.

I rest awhile,
a shallow sleep,

then I awake

knowing…

without words
my mind whispers

it’s time

I gently wipe your lips,
brush a stray hair
from your forehead.
It’s all I know to do.

Then I sing
a cherished lullaby
hoping you hear me
hoping it wraps you in love
as my arms wrapped
around you
as a child.

I hold your hand,
kiss your forehead.
In that instant I see
and feel all you’ve been
all that is you

tiny wrinkled infant
delightful, smiling six-month old
curious toddler
proud school age
struggling teen
loving adult

realizing
we're losing all of these,
all that you've been
all that is you

then

I feel your spirit leave…

for that brief moment
I’m overcome with a calm
I can’t describe.

A gift rare and precious –

as I was there
when you entered the world
I was with you
when you left.
     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        

"The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough."  
Rabinadrath Tagore
We lost our son to a brain tumor. He fought bravely and determinedly for seven years, enduring two surgeries, radiation, Gamma knife "surgery", chemotherapy and clinical trials. He never lost his sunny smile or determination. He only let go when he knew it was time, slipping into unconsciousness shortly after his two brothers (his best friends) arrived to say goodbye. He remained in that suspended state for two days. On the third day the four of us gathered for dinner and shared thoughts about him and our life with him. We cried, we laughed, we shared memories. Later that night he let go. I will always believe, being the caring and generous person he was, that he heard us talking and knew that, as hard as it would be, we would be okay.
Tell me about your heart.
Tell me about your struggles, your pain.
How you dug yourself out of hell
and overcame through the greatest odds.
Show me your love,
your compassion, your kindness.
Show me by deed, love for your fellow man.
A meal for a neighbor, or a man on the corner.
A coat for a stranger in the cold.
A warm bed for a friend who has none.
Bleed with me over the injustices in this world.
Your passion over wrong,
and your fight for what is right.
Show me your soul, and I will be yours for life.
Demons line the hallway
Filed in one by one
Waiting for their solace
In the setting sun
When the clock strikes midnight
And the angels go to bed
Then it is their playtime
The time to take the dead
The ones who are all alone
And lost to their own pain
Welcome them with open arms
To enter their waiting veins
Take away the anguish
Of life as it has become
Take away my memory
Of a lost and broken home
Take away the fear in me
So I may lay my head
Upon this concrete I call home
And the cardboard of my bed
Let me forget that I once served
This country long ago
Just like they have forgotten me
As soon as I came home
Demons take me now I pray
Give me peace for a time
Quiet the longing of my soul
And the noises in my mind
Give me dreams of a happier place
As you take away my soul
Let me drift away in peace
And let me wake no more

June 11, 2017
 Jun 2017 Mike Marshall
Dr Zik
I am fed-up of being dweller of enclosed walls
There should be no limits of start and stop
As air is to breathe and beauty is to love
So call me as I am waiting eagerly
To come towards You
In no time to eternity
O' My Lord!
Dr ZIK Poetry
two butterflies flit,
on a vast green lawn searching-
no flower at sight.
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