Is this for real, or am I watching a vivid dream? This is a question I ask myself a lot. It seems like I am still a child trapped in adult reality.
Sadia Hakim
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You can almost follow my patterns until you can’t
Self sabotaging never was your plan
I’m player two driving off that cliff
just trying to find her next adrenaline hit
Dip dipping into this chaos
Catch me in oblivion
I got no destination,
Just got too many questions,
I no longer wait on reactions
I wanna commit the infractions
Is this all my life has amounted to?
Losing and finding myself time and time again,
Tormentin’ numbin’, humdrum monotony
-Mariana
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In the Park
My Father smiles,
runs across the park,
lifts me up
and twirls me around.
I hold on tight
as the curls swing
away from my face.
Look, he says,
pointing to the crescent moon—
I made that for you.
Pg 92 of my poetry book The Moon Taught Me 🌙
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It started as a beautiful bond,
But ended like a deserted land.
That once warm smiles that fills each others heart,
Turned into a sad and mournful piece of art.
Made that 'us against the world' covenant,
And do things that the other half can't.
Play together,
Partners forever.
Long hours of nonsense talking,
To others it seems boring, to them it is entertaining.
Dreamed of eternal camaraderie,
Yet the bond started to get weary.
Then something happened to them,
Unexpected and painful end had came,
The once thought to be forever,
Had gone lost and officially over.
Danielle Marino
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Delilah's Song . . #love #intimacy #connection #eyes #poem #poetsofinstagram #instagrampoetry #poems #poemsofinstagram #instapoetry #writer #writersofinstagram #poetrylovers #write #read #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetryisnotdead #poetryofinstagram #poetryporn #poetryofig #poetrygram #poetrysociety #poetrylovers #poetrycommunityofinstagram #poetryisart #poetrylover #PoetryOfTheDay #poetrybyme #poetrylife #poetrydaily
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#peacenotwar #IndiePoetryPlease #redbookswexford #redbookspublishing #wexfordbohemian #wexfordartscentre #wexfordwriters #manshedpoetry #manshedpoetrybitsandbobspodcast #anchorfmpodcasts #Spotify #listentopoetry #spokenwordpoetry #poetryisart #poetsofinstagram #poertycommunity (at Wexford, Ireland) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm9FKVUMF7N/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Dancing
Their walls started a movement.
Back then We didn’t move
[packed closets
of colorful costumes
for tomorrow night]
From confined spaces
We coveted freedom
They moved.
Glass crashing
a counterculture
the unnatural erosion of stone walls-
of bile and false prophets.
Nightsticks of hatred and disgust
Bruising our precious hope
Now we move-
We dance at clubs in life
and in death-
we move with our Pulse and the
times, and on the
right side of history.
Freedom is Expensive.
A constant toll:
- in looks
- in hushed tones
- in forced visibility
But for those
49 dead
Freedom cost everything.
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A woman was a girl, and a boy, she gave her heart to.
A man was a boy, and a girl, he gave his heart to.
She held his heart for years and years, but never held his hand.
He holds her heart still, but wonders how long he can.
She claims the timing was never right for her to be with him.
He claims he always loved her and oh what could've been.
Her thoughts of him always stay in her head, even with another man in her bed.
His head is filled with thoughts of her every day, but with his wife he must stay.
She wonders how her life would have turned out with him, she smiles and believes that he is her whim.
He wonders how it would feel to hold her, how soft is her skin, oh how the thought of her caused him to grin.
She believes she should be with him and he should be with her, but now it feels too late and with that she must endure.
He wishes things were different and if he could go back in time, he would change the entire world just to call her "mine".
《 Orginial poem by me / edited pics by me 》
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