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A girl  
with a
whim here
in front
of him
fit attire
with tass
and string
that pare
the Bordeaux
and made
this wing
fly together
with their
hoard of
rich dark
eaten fudge
a  suit with snide in tasting wine
Em MacKenzie May 2018
I speak inside my brain
and then my heart replies.
I've lived my life as the rain
falling down from the vacant skies.
I told you that I loved you
and truer words were never spoken,
but how much can one person do,
when paradise is broken?

I turn my back on memories
but they still slap me in the face,
the emotions get the best of me
when I'm standing in the wrong place.
I told you that I'd keep you dry
even though I myself was soakin'
but how hard can one person try
when paradise is broken?

The pastel colours were fake,
except the black and white,
I shaded it all for the sake
it was not pleasing to my sight.
In every single dream I drown,
I always give up on that fight,
until I'm buried in the ground
I'll dream that struggle every night.

Heaven is over occupied
they stopped letting just any folk in,
and purgatory is mystified
'cause paradise is broken.

I long for the free birds
with their hazardous flapping wing
and the way they spin their words
into gentle songs we sing.
I told you I was missing my mind
I just could never rope it in,
how much can one person find
when paradise is broken.

The pastel colours were fake,
except for the black and white,
I needed the blue for a lake,
and the red for the ****** fight.
In every dream I'm alone,
I try to change that with all my might,
you spoke aloud in a wrong tone
but atleast the words were right.

Heaven is over occupied
I wish I never had woken,
and Hell is now justified
cause paradise is broken.

You own; each beat from my chest, both lungs and every breath,
what I have and all the rest,
my life until my death.
A quagmire
that Cohen
was an
exempt constitution
and amend
law where
string excess
and total
chaos like
her love
town she
inhibit them
in harm
that enforce
statute when
wax moon
bare ******
a superlative law in just time
(alternately titled random axe of violence)

I calculated an average
     of ~10.16.... deaths per year
of mass school shootings since Columbine,
     a morbid benchmark where,

iGen / Gen Z 1995 - 2012 bore significant hit,
now students require armed guards to learn - veer
really within purportedly "safe places",
     which statistics tracks a unilinear

trend, and justifiably causing
     absolute zero reassurance
     countering alarmist state of mind dust tear
ability to accept rationale

     dismissing greater probability
     prevails lightening will strike loved ones,
     nonetheless share
ring understandable expressing

     rightful salient concerns with school board
     quotidian possibility son(s) and/or daughter(s) rare
lee remain mum at every opportunity,
     how second amendment does not square

with democratic e pluribus unum firmament,
     lieutenant management,
     quintessential reverent tenets
pointing trigger finger of accountability

     at lax gun purchasing rare
lee does emotional uproar demanding
     immediate controls, limitations, restrictions,
     et cetera on firearms scare

the bejesus from stalwart National Rifle Association,
     whence spokesperson doth prepare
convincing rebuttal (lock, stock at barrel) overbear
ring lee outgun legitimate

     parental concerns, now near
daily occurrence hardly cause a flinch glossed
     inducing similar reactions as
     sports home team defeated, sans mere

slightly raised eyebrows while headline news
     when another tragedy gets tacked
     unto the 122 students killed since Columbine
     took the lives of innocent lives 19 plus years ago

which ** hum sacrifice of youth or teachers bare
     lee induce ripple despite an increasing number
     of spent bullets fallout inflicting
     more than 208,000 vulnerable
     impressionable psyches sorrows need a lifetime to air!
I'm left
here in
her wierd
world of
frosty stripes
but a
coup d'etat  
recycle today's
beliefs in
her pumps
and charcoal
stole and
rather than
fine this  
love affair
it changed
the world
SelinaSharday Apr 2018
Dance wit meh naked..
Could I share my inner fragility,
show just how fragile I can be
If you were rich and I poor. would you embrace me at your door.
Would you abandon my empty.
Hold back your sympathy
Be blind to the goods I bring.
Would you, could you, dance wit meh naked.
                                                          ­                          wrapped in,
                                                             ­                            empathy.
                                                        ­                      the state I'm in is a basket of the complicated.
                                                    ­                       my hands appear naked.
Can I hear your music..Will you lend me a cup of stability.
twirl me around in your confidences.. allow me a cup of comfortability.
Parts of me come wrapped in simplicity. Adorned with gifts of invisible charms.
Chased your way by outside storms.
                                                         ­ Oh would You my Dear One..
Be able to take it.
The fact that I appear naked.
                                       Could you still..In fact will you still...
                                                        ­                                                      Dance with me N.A.K.E.D!
N ecessity
A cceptable
k eepable
E ndurable
D iamond .................................................................­.............in the rough.
And know theirs flaws in the both of...u.s
S.A.M 3-18
being open transparent, vulnerable and exposed yielding flaws and all.. void of the material the financial the quality is deep within your soul.
Andrew Ewen Mar 2018
I am a firm believer that beauty on the inside, is more important than beauty on the outside.
I don't just want to see your bare body, I want to see you bare your soul.
I don't just want to have ***, I want to make love.
I want you to feel comfortable and to talk to me about anything and everything.
I want us to feel safe in each others arms and forget about our worries.

I hope to make you feel confident about your own insecurities.
To show you how special I think you truly are.
I want our hearts to race when we see each other and our eyes to sparkle.
I want you to look into my eyes, so you can see how much I love you.
Am I asking too much, or is that exactly what love should feel like?

When we go through rough waters, I want us to be each others anchor.
Knowing that our love and support for each other, can get us through anything.
You may be beautiful on the outside, but it's the compassion in your heart and the beauty in your soul, that makes me want to spend my life with you.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
Oh! Let me be you.
Who walks with a sun in your pocket
for every rainy day.
Who stood at crossroads
and decided which road shouldn’t exist.
Let me be you for a day.
So that I am not the one
who hides in hollow words,
who makes her bed on the dreams of others.
Let me be you,
so that I can put out my hand
always with the confidence
knowing that the love I ask
shall be given.

But what is this that I feel?
Why my hands shake?
Why my heart cries?

Is it because
the one who is breaking the wall
with bare bleeding hands
has the same pain, same fear
as the one who is hiding behind that wall.
Is it because
this love, this life
leaves no one without scar.
lonelybagel Feb 2018
I hope you don't mind,
This only almost rhymes –
These things I meant to say –
It's more fitting this way.
We were never in sync,
On two different wavelengths.

But I held back so much,
Briefly felt and left untouched:
Like how you made me feel
Like lowering my shield
And laying my heart bare
To entrust in your care.

But they rapidly passed;
Those warm feelings fled fast,
For you chased them away –
It would have just delayed
The inevitable pain,
Ignited more destructive flames.

Still, I got burned away
Despite what I didn't say.
Silverflame Jan 2018
darkening seashore
a golden, bare halo flies
betrayed by the knife
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