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 Apr 2018 Esther
CA Smith
Brick
        By
            Brick
A house is built
Hour
        By
            Hour
The house becomes a home
Day
        By
            Day
The home turns into memories
Year
        By
            Year
The memories turn into people
Century
        By
            Century
The people turn into stories
Story
        By
            Story
Stories turn into legends
Legend
        After
            Legend
History is changed
Piece
        By
            Piece
Lives are changed
Person
        By
            Person
Love is spread
One Love
        After
            Another
Bricks are purchased
That build houses
That turn into homes
That create memories
That turn into people
That turn into stories
That turn into legends
That change history
And it all started with
Just. One. Brick.
Sometimes it's tough when you are just laying bricks to see the end picture, but it makes a difference in the end! It can be so easy at times to feel like we aren't doing enough to help others or to grow ourselves, but one ripple affects the entire pond.
 Apr 2018 Esther
Mister Granger
I know why the caged bird sings.

It's not because his song
is as vibrant
as his feathers, that he plucks away
each day because he doesn't
feel beautiful.

It's not because of the majesty
that exist in the freedom
of being able to spread his wings
though he knows
he'll never rise to the occasion.

He sings because he believes
that this cage
was made for a king
because he has never tasted
freedom with a side order of skies.

He's never flown past the sun
on a cool morning
or hung with the moon
on a warm night.

He's only ever known
the comfort of a prison
that his thoughts have
become accustomed
to calling home.

He would never venture
beyond the "welcome" mat
because what's beyond the threshold
holds no promise
the way these bars and metal locks do.

He sings because he knows
that no one is listening
so if he makes a mistake
he doesn't have to live with the regret
or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note.

The caged bird
never believes that he's caged
because behind these walls
he's safe
and he prefers it this way.

I know why the caged bird sings.
A twist on a title by one of my favorite authors...
 Apr 2018 Esther
Sabrina Whitley
how can i save someone else
when i cannot save myself
how can i live
when i'm dead inside
how can i give up
when i'm a survivor
how can this be
how can i feel so alone
when there's so many people beside me
 Apr 2018 Esther
Alexei
Hold those thoughts forever and be brave,
Give me peace for a minute: the words I knew back then,
Let me take them to my grave.

When you are not here, darling, to grief I am no more than a slave.
But I had to do this even then:
Hold those thoughts forever and be brave.

Each night I daydream asking you, "What's left of us to save?"
In my mind, I see, we are broken men.
Let me take them to my grave.

Though I shine light into all of me, the shadows in my mind never behave;
Strangers tell me again and again:
Hold those thoughts forever and be brave.

Once mourning has consumed me completely, swept me up in a monstrous wave,
All the tears I've shed, all past my pen:
Let me take them to my grave.

Because the path that we walk will never now be what I crave,
Dear Memory, never tell me these words again:
"Hold those thoughts forever and be brave."
Let me take them to my grave.
Depression in 19 lines.
 Apr 2018 Esther
chiharu
i want to
have a cliché
love story.

i want to
fall in love
with someone

who will
kiss me in
the rain,

just to break
up with me
the next day.

i want to
move on
to someone

who i couldnt
care for less ;
and then i

repeat.
repeat.
repeat.

i think i
have fallen
in love.

but its not
cliché,
and no one

understands
that love
is love.
 Apr 2018 Esther
Marty
Mascara
 Apr 2018 Esther
Marty
Can love be judged?

Can love be weighed?

If so judge the mascara that
Has been washed away.

Or

Weigh the lipstick that has been
Wasted with another's lips.
 Apr 2018 Esther
Akira Chinen
Death stops by to remind us
how beautifully fragile life is
and with her
you have gone away
and yet you are still here
in the quite moments
between my heart beat
and the silent space
between the tears falling
and I can still feel the warmth
of your laughter
and still hear the comfort
of your voice
I know not where you have gone
or if we will meet again
so what luck it was
what a privilege it has been
to have had you in it
my beautiful friend
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