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Rollercoaster Feb 2021
People’s feet are hurting,
dresses and shoes are a size smaller than theirs.
They’re taking chances, and going to dances
and the truer selves are calling for help.

They’re dressed in their nicest,
their inner screams are the quietest.
Under the gleaming smiles,
their broken, imperfect selves are quietly calling for help.

The smoothest white marble floor lies,
in the reflection they seem to be perfect
while they’re numb inside.
Living corpses are calling for help.

They’re breathing slowly,
to cope with the swift dancing.
The masses are strategizing and scheming
on how not to call for help.

All is calm and feelings are suppressed.
Suddenly!
Chandeliers are falling,
glass is on the dance floor
and hoofers are calling for help.
With every move of my mop I am dying. People are stepping on me as they step on the garbage lying on the floor.
Wilder Sep 2020
I'm falling. And if
I tell the world I am down
No one will help me

I suppose it's sad
Tragic. lying on the floor
But surely I fell

Of my own doing
So I must stay here broken
And very lonely
Depression from repressed emotions I guess
Garrett Johnson Sep 2020
Naturally walked.

Even the alacrity in the spots.
Stars the undoing of nervous endeavors.
And pines made of thought thrown asunder.
The globes.
Softly speaking.
And smile fragile.
Then gone.
The spiral orb.
She waits.
In arms.
Tended to in black.
Asked in gloom.
Pillaging mind wasting.
And rest.
In a frantic sooth.


Garrett Johnson
Where'd you go?
many dappled shadows
played on the forest's floor
as light winds did blow
Bhill Jun 2020
suddenly, up out from his hole, the lizard crawled
crawled and wriggled over the dirt searching for it's prey
the prey that would sustain him for the rest of his life
he didn't know that it would be his final meal
he didn't know that behind that cactus stood a roadrunner
a roadrunner, who delights in savory lizard treats right from the desert floor
he had no chance...
the cycle of life circles on as the roadrunner scurries away with the lizard dangling from its beak

Brian Hill - 2020 # 176
The cycle goes on and on...
Serendipity Jun 2020
Freedom
is the feeling you get
when you breathe your first breath
and your ribs
no longer
press into
the floor.
rowdy lee May 2020
I'm dying by hunger
he said
and I remembered about
all these ruined places
and its children
and their mothers
no
you're not dying

you just still don't have enough capacity
to realize
that you don't need a new jacket
and shoes
you own muddy ones in the hallway
and the others you don't like
*******
give me
a better reason

and try
to swallow your dreams
and keep them
in a digestive tract
to the last second
of not giving a ****

as the ones who are trying to fall asleep now
on the pillow of tomorrow's death
Maybe there is a grammar/meaning mistakes in my poems as English is my second language. Glad if you'll warn me. Thank you.
Jaxey Feb 2020
it's up here I can see
just how small we all are
and yet together
we can make for
quite a beautiful view
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