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Literature Text
Morning makes the streetlight dim
Casting away all that was grim
Vanquished light begins to disappear
Broken in pieces like a shattered mirror
Dusty store window, neon sign
Stirred hope of something divine
Clear blue city melts in the heat
Mirages of water dance in the street
Undaunted sun beings to fade
Fingers lengthen in the shade
Fountains of water glow red
While a gold sunset hangs overhead
A humid night stifles all sound
Darkness clings to the parched ground
Casting away all that was grim
Vanquished light begins to disappear
Broken in pieces like a shattered mirror
Dusty store window, neon sign
Stirred hope of something divine
Clear blue city melts in the heat
Mirages of water dance in the street
Undaunted sun beings to fade
Fingers lengthen in the shade
Fountains of water glow red
While a gold sunset hangs overhead
A humid night stifles all sound
Darkness clings to the parched ground
Literature
the trees change
soft gray sunset
fluttering limbs like trunks in the breeze
banana leafs shuffle,
a yellow-green wave
dyed with the thought of rain
the blue of cloud and steel holding back
the bowl of blackberries and milk, a teaspoon of sugar
crosshatched where the birch-hairs twine
in overlapping lines scrawled above
the white bodies turn brown
stretched from molten crucible
into blown gestures
faint suggestions to the wind
the upside-down birdcages
unfurl near the brim
their arms splitting and
growing barbs like battle maces
when the leaves carve away
the paper bark shivers,
leafs, electric on the stem
the shadow from the trunk bleeds
and stains the b
Literature
Choices
The pooling of choices
becomes the mouth piece of
decision made into action
and so I have chosen to
choose again and again to go this way
and my path swaying and swerving in the ache
it is engraved to becoming a being with
ever forming integrity and entropy
and so my chosen choice to choose
again and again I made up of these tiny troubles
flittering through me.
Literature
Not Enough
There was just not enough
Not enough time together
Not enough days spent
Not enough hours
If only we knew.
Not enough birthdays enjoyed
Not enough conversations shared
Not enough laughter
Could we have saved you?
Not enough memories created
Not enough hugs embraced
Not enough cuddles
Was I always there?
Not enough dinners burnt
Not enough stories told
Not enough holidays
Did you need us?
Not enough comfort given
Not enough late night insight
Not enough advice
When I need it more than ever.
51.
Not enough.
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I wrote this poem when I was 16.
© 2009 - 2024 Dementium
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