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Shawn Adams Apr 2016
She hides
Underneath
The blackness
Of the spaces in between
Galaxies
I await her
On hopeless knees
Whispered forgotten truths
Escape the prison of my doubt
Shackled to these memories of you
I cannot disavow
There's no time for a crime
Like this tonight
I drive
In no direction
Ignoring your reflection
In the rear view mirror
And I ponder lonely
As I drive away this
Fading daylight
Who am I to say
You're worthy of
Such affairs
I'm going nowhere
Staying there
Shouldn't leave you melting
No confession
No crime
We are posessions
We are destined
To rot in time
A plot
Unresponsive
A godless life
I stopped and called you and lied
It's just that easy
For emotions to die
  Apr 2016 Shawn Adams
ThePoet
Who are we to say
that a love is not to be?
That a love does not belong
and can never be set free?

Who are we to think
that a kind is not our people?
That a kind is far beneath us
and will never be as equal?

Who are we to feel
that a face can look unusual?
That a face must be a canvas
and be painted to be beautiful?

Who are we to judge?
To say love is prohibited?
To think below of others?  
To feel minds can be limited?

©
Shawn Adams Apr 2016
I wake up slow
Clenched jaw
Face muscles don't respond
When I tell them to smile
What will I do when this goes wrong
What will I say
When they realize
I don't belong
Shawn Adams Apr 2016
I shredded my notebooks
Or burned them
I wrapped the past
In plastic
For your protection
It's better to keep such things
Inside
You were right about
What I write about
Too real
Too hard to read
Or to ugly to see
To think about
Those words
Crawled out of place
From my mind
To my hand
To your face
I have no meadows
Or gardens to show you
In here it's never Autumn
The lights are all out
The nights are attacked with regret
Sleep is my escape
Shawn Adams Apr 2016
I thought I might have been dying
And then some good news
I'm not
Now if I can only figure out
How to live
I'm a factory worker
Yeah
I should have listened
To my sister
A dropout
Keeping droplets
Disgraced in a jar
Can't replace all these scars
So they're on display
Disguised as an art
Shawn Adams Apr 2016
Born Words
The white skin of this
Newly acquired messenger
Fresh and waiting for the ink
Of my needle
Vibrates on subatomic level
As I tattoo new verses
I ache like the old man
Collection of heartbreak
Inviting beaten bones
Along this singular path
Of dissolution
I'm awaited
Crowded
Needed and exposed
A quite life
Where the sounds in my head
Are becoming harder, louder
By each syllable of thought
I struggle to deprogram
It must be done to grow
To live
To breathe air that doesn't burn
To hear clearly that voice
That is not
Unlike my own

— The End —