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Julie Mullins Jun 2018
Blank pages
Stare at me,
Breathing,
Waving like
Ocean waves.

Rocking to every word
Tilting its boat.
Like sailors lost
To the stormy sea,
Some pages stay
Blank,
Because sometimes
The adventure ends
Before its barely begun.
Mana Jun 2018
I want to paint the walls
With my dancing feet
Splash melodies
Of syncopated movement
-my heartbeat.

I feel color in my sway
Hues combine as the motion fades away.
An indistinguishable color remains.
Me.
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
Everyone I am surrounded by believes
There is someone up above
I cannot and will not believe
In a god that has shown no love

Where was he when I needed a friend to hug?
I have spent countless hours in prayer
Not once have I heard or seen
A sign to signal he was there

I have wailed out to him in agony
Pain reflected in loud cry
Waited for an answer
Silence was my only reply

I have thanked him for the good things
Worshipped him singing songs
Asked to cleanse me of my sins
Forgive me for my wrongs

What have I got in return
Nothing that i have seen so far
So how come i am the only one
Who sees you, what you truly are?

False figment of imagination
You were invented by a book
Sold to humans who were too foolish
To bother with a second glance or look

They say God loves each one of his children
Its clear he only loves a portion
He despises all homosexuals
And every girl who has had an abortion

It seems every Christian I meet
Forces conservative agenda on me
Shove beliefs down my throat
I hate Christianity!

Answers I seek cannot be found there
Not in search of some holier light
Moral compass I stand behind is sound
Hesitation is what I am hoping to incite

The word of god is abused as a weapon
A tool to inflict suffering, pain
It is an excuse to use, torment and wound
When they do it for personal gain

Religion filled with hypocrites
Sinners playing the part of saints
This short list I have compiled
The start of many complaints

Bible's presence found in hotel rooms and court hearings
The "good" books appearance is why my arguement rages
Old testament, new testamant, it doesn't really matter
It's all simply words on ancient pages
Yes I am an athiest
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
On a wooden shelf textbook waits
Harboring facts, knowledge, dates
Each year summer brings needed rest
After each final, each test.

But summer is gone and school has begun
So away with freedom, the warmth of the sun
To a teenage girl, textbook goes
What horrors await? Textbook doesn't know.

Hurled in a locker, metal slams
Smothered by a shirt that says "Go Rams!"
Shoved in a backpack, do not suffocate?
Can't miss the school bus, hurry, don't be late!

Scribbled and doodled on, "It tickles!" It screams
But teenage girl doesn't realize silence is not what it seems
Spilled soda burns; acid sweet
Bubbling suffering unimaginable heat

Left on a desk, a window so close
Pages now stick, it is so gross
With its strength the textbook flies
It has just commited suicide.
An old one I wrote for school in 10th grade
Gracie Knoll Apr 2018
Have you ever noticed that friendships are like books?

A new Friend is like a well acclaimed  book that you just can't put down, as you wait to see if it is really all it was cracked up to be.

An old Friend is that trustworthy favourite with bent pages and peeling cover that you turn back to year after year.

A good Friend is the book that always brings a smile to your face, making the hard, dull parts of life seem worth living.

A best friends is that one book that you can inexplicably never part with. It's less exciting, less acclaimed, less popular than the other books on your shelf. But no matter how hard you try, you can never replace that well thumbed treasure with the newer, flashier releases everyone else seems so taken with.

My heart is a library full of well thumbed or ignored stories that fill the pages of my daily existence.

Even the forgotten titles of friendships past fill an essential part of my being.

Without them I would be an empty page.
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
The thought beetle.


There is a little thought beetle deep within my mind;
He is going around, searching for a rhyme.
He digs out my unconscious thoughts
And helps me to write another line.
When his work is done, he hibernates
And I sit back and smile.  


The ladybird flutters around inside my head;
She is in search of the pages, I haven't written yet.
She zips and darts, flitting from here to there;
She is always in a hurry and she is a nervous wreck.  


The worm is just turning another corner, in my brain's maze;
He's having a look around, to see if there's anything I need to say.
Anything I forgot to mention; he will find what needs to be said.
The slowly moving worm is lazy, but he is useful in his own way,


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
witchy woman Mar 2018
I could never tell you
exactly what's going on inside my head,
so I'll write instead.
Drown my thoughts in paper & lead.
Keep my hands alive,
and my expression dead.
Meghan Mar 2018
There is nothing more
satisfying
when you came to read
books of your
memories
and returning it to the
bookshelf of your
mind
Poetic T Mar 2018
The reminders we set on life calendar,
        to show why we live for this moment.
As if we were unaware.We may forget
                       this is the moment to live,
      not the forget me not's.
        That a lights gone out,
being our own,
          and the days we counted on are bare.

We set reminders to ourselves to make sure
                               that everyday is precious.
That we awaken day-today knowing its a page
that turns on the calendar of our existence.

"Remember we are only pages,
                      and everyday they turn or were empty
,
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