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Baking, broiling, blindingly bright, blistering sun,The kabob that is my body searing, skeweredOver scorching, sweltering, sizzling sand.Deceptively blue skies devoid of any deliverance,
No sleep. No water. Dry mouth seems to be the onluy taste available. No reach or want for what is close. Only hardships are available. Thee isn't much around in this deserted place we call home.
Head down in a book, Hiding my braces, Fearing they may look, Always so abrasive. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Head high like a rook, Not afraid of their gazes, Have them by the hook,
It's rumbling below One blastoff from volcano Hot things, land, above So hot to cook a chicken Or burn everything in path
I can take the heat. The rays of sun never fail to slow me down and lighten my head I lie in wait for the heat to form a pillow under my head and a blanket over my body
You love my purfume I can tell By the way you close your eyes I trigered something Wrapping your hands around My small frame fits perfectly You grip me tighter so I dont slip
Sitting by the pool, I squinted my eyes at the torrid back yard, my lawn chair slightly separated from the others. My glass of iced tea sat within reach, ready to rescue an overheated and dried out tongue.
Unbearable heat sometimes way too much for me i love the winter
I am tired. Tired of holding my tongue at the thoughts my mind shouts. What do I want to do? Who do I want to be? How will I make money? I do not know. And I am tired.
its the grass burrs stickig to your sock its the way the water looks wen you skip a rock. its the water glistening when the sun hits just right. its how it looks even prettier reflecting th moon night.
"Mama, it's another drought," she said
I prize my gift from the sun, the smooth ebony blanket that trails in my path. It bears the token of my progress, like a toll booth of past endowments, always full of unanswered prayer.
Cages thrown deep into the Hudson The fishermen smoke stogies on the pier I fear- that I might get sick for the air is thick with the stench of smoke and chum It stabs at my nostrils on my morning run
The landscape is barren The wind blown is warm Some bathe in the sunlight Some burn with its scorn Some lie there in waiting With unquenchable thirst Except the water is gone
Screw the people who break us down so much, that we become senseless and open If that’s an opportunity, damn, love, just consider me your token Let’s strip the truth of all its beauty
Everyone is sun burnt and extremely tired, But we have to make sure the next act is on fire. Yes, they are just performers on stage, Simply letting go of their built up rage.
The hot sun beats down on my neck this sticky sweet popsicle heat. My destination is still blocks away My mouth and nose are dry and my shirt clings to me with sweat. I can see the park now
Crush. Eyes met. Smiles are stolen. Her laugh is adored. They fnally build the courage. They talk and make a date. Then on that date night they kiss. A single date then turns into many moments.
I am fire Blind rage attacking a blank page I started as a small flame Campers slowly added branches, paper, and pollution I became too large to contain I am fire
Tonight is encroaching Right above the yellow sunlight Take me to your moment Of revelation in this moon light I want to demonize the wind Finish the mystery within
We exist only behind the words we speak. Standing at this distance, we forever reach. We swallow the affinity because we know deep down it can never be. We put the dreams to rest and embrace the reality we live in.
The drone of fans awakes you from your sleep And light sneaks in around your windowsill. The chill of night the new day will not keep, Yet work must start where all the blades are still.
There once was a boy who stood out from the rest The girls and guys both all knew he was the best He was 6 foot 3, hit his head on ceiling fans And his flawless skin was a natural golden tan