It's a Metaphor! (I'm not good at titles)

A seemingly infinte amount of books line shelves old and new

You can't possibly read them all, but shouldn't settle for just a few

The cover is a starting point for weeding through the masses
Even though its what the author wants you to see, not necessarily what is past it

Some books have lost their covers too

Taken apart by readers that came before you

Whether the cover is hard or soft

The pages it protects, holds the truths that you've sought

Your world could be warped by the words of one page

You could flip through a thousand and find they had nothing to say

There's no guarantee of what you will find

But I urge you keep looking, and yes it takes time

For if you've found a story that never gets old

You can read it each night and new love still unfolds

Then you already know there's nothing better you can do

Than looking for that book that was written just for you

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A hundred years ago, a shivering maiden watched the snow

Every flake unique they said, but she knew they weren’t different

Cold, wet and insignificant each with a little secret

And no matter the form

it will all become one with the rest of them


She caught a single flake in her pale cold hands

And as it melted, she could no longer tell


If it was ever there in the first place

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Within my majestic eyes, there's a sea of darkness


Shrouded with mystery, a solitary ocean


Rippling waves of intense emotions.


Soft as a blanket yet sharp as blades.


Pursuing passions, through dominance and dynamicity.


These eyes, ablaze with burning intensity


Passion, romance and intimacy with of hint of jealousy.


Tread on my tail lightly, never feed me lies,


Your facades that are transparent to me


Because I'll peel back layer upon layer of you


Because my personality presents itself in various shades,


True colours aren't hard to release from their cage and I'll see right through


I'm a beautiful ocean of secrets


The representation of a water sign


But only those who can handle me,


Can swim exclusively.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem for all the Scorpios out there :) written by a Scorpio, describing how she is herself.

There is no Obligation

There is no obligation.

No urge, no restraint, no frustration.

A weak chain that in the wind may blow,

A strong and sturdy, heavy chain, no.

There is no choice,

No choice to be made.

No need to rejoice,

No suffering forbade.


For us to make meet, there are no ends,

For I see no obligation there, my friends.

Author's Notes/Comments: 



Well, here's a good way to end this after I've pushed aside a thought from my mind:


With a sword.


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Some Cavern

This place is full of downers
Sad, smelly, flimsy frowners.
Tell me something, and tell it true,
Is it not as hard for me, as it is for you?
Depression, compression
Man it stings!
It crumbles, it dries,
And other things.
How are you and we to be all downers?
Man, wasting all these hours.
Can't we stop and smell the flowers?
Shut our mouths or reach from our ugly bowers?
I'm thinking maybe I should leave this place,
And this grey, and lost, and raggedy race.
Find some other place, to replace.
Then who would be a nutcase?
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Parade of Despair

Through the wet and rainy streets,
Cloaked in the liar's contacts. and bloody sheets
You know not of where you go,
But the blood you walk over and sew.

In this time, you believe you are okay,
Okay with murder that goes throughout the day
Through the homeless cries and terror
It's not your life or your own error

What's another's heart to hold in your hand mean?
If it doesn't give you the satisfaction and the attention of a queen?
Maybe somewhere, within your sickest dreams
Perhaps piercing the thickness, you can hear humanity screams
and in some part of your mind you care,
Or fail again, laughing maniacally as the blood drips in cold despair

Somehow, their commotion to you is entertaining
The bickering and troubles all the more sustaining
and yet somewhere, deep down, you realize it's not right.
But the sickness blinds you again, back again in the fright

Morality is like your brother, inside your mind, telling you it's wrong
But your voice cries out more louder, constantly crying, "But do I belong?"
and the shadow creeps in control of your hands and strikes again,
Like an old friend you've parted with that was poison, comes back attempting to explain

They say you are fine and you will be okay.
Like you say, except you are actually mentally astray
As the hand of sickness inside your mind plans out the next move
In reality you are empty, she says you have nothing to prove

The disgusting woman that is called society
Bringing forth what you tell others is anxiety
She holds you tight, like a incoherent mother
Whispering to you as she smothers you "There is no other"

Somehow throughout all that you have, depression calls,
Your father, comes to tell you "Despite the beautiful colors, you live within empty walls"
You cry for them to stop speaking
But they stop for none, they continue their horrid shrieking

As you fall to the ground, you try to escape by sleeping,
But it's only for a few hours, and time is weeping
You try to deny the things that you have mean and done
You salute to the cracked, and broken blurred skies of failure, and with it a black sun
Forever bringing a slanted shadow, that was once you, pleading "Bring me back, this wasn't really fun"

You yearn for something deep down, but without purpose for some reason
and your faces change again and again, like the months and the season
You know not anymore of what the world means to you
Forever alone you will be, cursed, trapped in your built igloo.

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*Broken Wings*

Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins

As the land beneath me disappears 
And all that is left is space 
I start to ask myself if anyone really cares 
I cant help but to beat myself at my own race

Its not that the pain 
Hurts deep inside 
Its not because I'm just ordinary and plain 
I mean i have nothing sinful to hide

I just would like people to see 
That i need healing 
From all the memories that haunt behind me 
From someone loving i just want to experience that tender feeling
I don't want to remain as i be 
I want to start in "believing"

I want to know how to fly 
Escape these Broken wings 
That i have had for so long 
No more tears i want to cry 
I want to be happy and strong 
I want to enjoy the bird as she sings

I want to get through the past 
Be able to look onto the future 
I want a love that will last 
I don't want to feel the pain of a broken wing 
I don't want the pain of a broken heart 
I want to move on and be happy again 
My pain full past from it i want to part 
I want this pain to be a "finally ending" thing 
And for God to bring me that angel he's suppose to send 
A everlasting love he's suppose to bring

To protect me as I'm on my way 
To guide me through the dark to the light 
To wake up fresh everyday 
To always be cheery and bright

I no longer want to be bothered by a broken wing 
I want to be free to fly 
I want a silver protecting ring 
I no longer want to cry 
Out loud i want to sing 
I no longer want to Die


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What People?

Just a thought!

Real people, fake people, people of the "third kind"...

They all profess some knowledge point,

Yet, most are lost in their own mind.

Daily life has brought them here,

An escape from ties that bind...

In the end, all have wasted breath

to leave this world behind'

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Just a dose of reality"Tongue Out


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People Elsewhere Being Murdered By Our Tax Dollars



People Elsewhere Being Murdered By Our Tax Dollars 


user img

People around the world

are being murdered

by our tax dollars

not as thrown stones


turned into guns

and bombs and drones.

-saiom shriver-

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