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ottaross May 2014
I will lay on the short grass
Nobody will see me
Vanilla-cream-pink against a thousand shades of green.
Insects encounter the mountain,
Such little things but with a power
To shrink large woes with their meanderings.

I will let the grass grow around me.
Tendrils writhe beneath my back
To search and plead for sun.
But turn white, bleached of chlorophyll.
Immovable and arbitrary, I am the barrier.
We share a common bond as his victim.

Others numerous soon rest their heads upon the soil,
Their hair grows down into the ground,
Weaving loops around roots and between stones,
And into cracks in the bedrock
******* at the moisture there
Until the trees, the grass and I
Turn brown, brittle and dry.
Dark Jewel May 2014
Julie,

I can not be there with you now,
But you'll always feel me near, my dear.
Look deep into your heart and soul.
Let the love around you forever grow.
Turning sixteen is such a big milestone,
Always know you're never alone.

Grandma Kirby

Thank you..
My sweet one..
I will always remember you,
Grandma..
Grandma.. I miss you so much, it makes me tear up just to type this poem.. Thank you for being there for me to the end.. I am sorry I could not say goodbye on your final day.. Requiescat en Pace my dear, sweet, grandma..
Colette May 2014
We say that we should take care of Mother Nature,
yet we destroy it in every hauntingly way possible.

We say that we shouldn't judge others by how they look,
yet we call them names and make them feel insecure.

We say that we should be nice towards others and to treat others with equality,
yet we backstab people behind their backs.

We say that we should love ourselves more as we love others,
yet we carry the scars that are like our clothes we wear daily.

We say that we should be thankful of what we have,
yet we take advantage of every kindness given at an open door.

We say that we should educate the future generations,
yet we are the ones to poison their mind with all inhumane acts.

We say that we should go back to things before technology were everyone's life,
yet we are attached and no one seems to leave their gadgets and making oral conversations.

We say that we should make a big difference,
yet we are so backtracked of what our surrounding seems to be.
Brynn Louise May 2014
He's the yo-yo man
He reels the girls in
Throws them back out
Then yanks them right back in
He's got one for each hand
He's the yo-yo man
Soon a string breaks
And the girl goes a-flying
Until she hits the floor
But he don't break a sweat
He don't bat an eye
Because he's got replacements
He's the yo-yo man
All his toys are cheap
And easily breakable
He's the yo-yo man
He's a little out dated
A little bit quirky
And the tricks get old real fast
He's the yo-yo man
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
I chose this path
No, no one else did just me
No one else did
So why do I want to blame it on them
I told myself I wouldn't cry
I told myself I shouldn't lie
I told myself these but, I do this anyway
I like to break the boundaries
Skipping stones across a forbidden lake
But I wouldn't listen to myself when I said stop
I grasped my memories; nothing else then I stormed out that door
I want you to believe it was your fault
I wanted you to hate yourself for it
To come to me before I left this door or....
at least to regret it all
But, I couldn't even be honest with myself until it was over.
I wanted so bad
To have some way of knowing you weren't just going to forget
forget about me
But I lied to myself we were never a "we"
It took me forever to realize
You didn't even care
much less remember me
So I take my memories, my blames, tears,and lies and will disappear before your very eyes.
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
People diein' on the streets.
****** puddles at our feets.

But we could be a family.
We could be a whole.
We could be together.
But no one could be cold.

If we could live on an island,
no hate,
no guns,
no war.
We'd look back and wonder,
what was it all for?

People diein' on the streets.
****** puddles at our feets.

Gangs,
tempts,
nudes,
exempts.

We sit at desk,
eating or eaten.
we laughed at or laughing.
beating or bleedin'.

We know the truth, but call it cruel.
The cruel one is we, the blind fool.

People diein' on the streets
****** puddles at our feets.

Who shot the most guns?
Who then killed them all?
Who didn't mind a casualty?
Who could be responsible?

"Not me!" we cry,
"I'm a good soul."
But even if we declined,
can I be told where they go?
No one WANTS to die. For someone to do it, there will be an opponent. A THREAT.    That's what this poem is about.
SM Feb 2014
We write to reach out
to anyone
who is close enough
to read the words
that spill from our minds
Trying
without gain
for those that stop
to make them see
to make them stay
If only long enough to feel again
but as is the way of things
they linger for just a moment
then continue on their way
as the world stops for no one
and surely not for the troubled writer
lost in isolation
and ever searching
for a friend
Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
He bit the curb.
Does that make you disturbed?
She laughed at tears.
Does that deepen your fears?
They don't know when to stop.
There's no stop signs in this town.
If it's you, life's sad.
But if it's them they shouldn't make a sound.
Some don't fit in,
and they just can't help it,
no matter where they been.
I guess no one really developed it.

Whom I kiddin?
Some people are fake,
on the outside their only,
the character they make.

"Who wants to run like me?
Who wants to get away?
I look around,
but they all seem A-okay."
Well if he judged you,
He'd seem to be just fine.
But you'd never guess,
He's scared of being left behind.
If she beat you and spit in your face,
you'd figure she was spoiled,
but her life was just so misplaced.

Why do they have to smile?
Why do they have to drown?
Why do they have to go away,
after smashing into cold, hard ground?

I'd say you need a lesson,
but you've probably had one too.
Stop being arrogant,
if there's one thing that you do.

They've seen the grey clouds,
and you've seen the rain.
And surprisingly we've all gone insane.
So why drive us mad?
Why call us bad?
Make us sad?
What have I done?
Nothing,
but yet I'm being pushed.
Off my feet, off the swings, off the air, off the edge.
By you, by them, by me, by life?
I'm going to stand here,
and proclaim to the skies.
"For once, let this life be mine!"
"And please vanish the outer lies!"
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Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
I want to run.
Be free.
Be the little girl they see in me,
but plot-twist happen frequently,
opening your eyes to things you didn't see.
Burning the cheerful into your mind.
If only I didn't once leave that behind.
If I could return to those naive, fun days.
But fun was out and sad was in,
so I figured "well okay."
I dived right in,
singeing my skin,
turning me to the pit.
I was told,
"don't follow your instincts",
so I guess this is what I get.
Now I sit alone,
a pitiful lump of coal,
as a dog without bone,
or soccer ball with no goal.
I'm heading to "God knows where"
on a train called "Oopsy Days,"
and when I arrive,
they will all be amazed.
For I am the writer
who will give them a story,
for I am a lighter,
and my flame gives me glory.
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