Poems from MARs
1 A.M. thoughts cascading down my mind, causing me to forget my bearings, my sanity, and my time.
To proud to tell my family, too lonely to...
POUNDING POUNDING
The thoughts want in,
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-
POUNDING POUNDING
They will be my end,
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-
POUNDING POUNDING
They want to control my functions...
She didn't know why
Her anti-suicide talks
Wouldn't work on her.
I realized, as the world before me was bathed in yellow and orange sunlight,
that I have been cold.
It is warm and homey and yet, I am cold...
Poetry is art.
A way to release your mind.
And haikus are cool.