Death to the poet who opened our eyes
The silvery tongue that outed our lies
Death to the poet who pulled the disguise
And made all the sleepers arise
The lion of lines
The writer of right
The one whose letters carry more bite
Than the... – by BC Byron | 1,228 Views added 1 year ago
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Sprouted through a narrow channel,
Squeezed along the way.
Thirsty, withered, rooted shallow,
Reaching for the day.
Pushing upward,
No retreat,
A weed grown through concrete.
Now above the solid ground,
Triumph won through pain,
Exposed... – by B.C. Byron | 80 Views added 1 year ago
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I saw a foggy figure
That was swimming in the wind.
The air was pushing back on him
And ripping at the skin.
So bent beneath the heavy rain
That hammered on his thought,
He'd lost himself in storminess
And shiny days forgot.
He was digging... – by B.C. Byron | 93 Views added 1 year ago
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Mushrooms are considerate,
I've never heard one cuss.
I've never heard one raise its voice,
Or make unpleasant fuss.
They'll never interrupt you
When you're trying to make a point.
They won't mock your opinions,
Or get noses out of joint.
... – by B.C. Byron | 46 Views added 9 months ago
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The leaves are brightest before they fall,
Their colors change with age.
To only live a year in all
Seems such a paltry wage.
But time is paid them evenly,
The same each generation.
Our seasons change erratically
Before the separation.
A... – by B.C. Byron | 47 Views added 1 year ago
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The Moon saw itself on the face of a drowsy lake and said,
"I'm powerful."
The lake shimmered in amazement at the Moon's greatness.
Recognizing a watery surface,
the Moon panicked and thought,
"I'm drowning."
A woman looked closely at... – by B.C. Byron | 58 Views added 1 year ago
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I think I have the Covid,
And a nasty Monkey Flu,
With a little touch of leprosy,
And mumps and measles too.
This horrible contagious mix,
Disease-y virus stew,
Is keeping me from work today,
That's why I'm calling you.
It's rare,
But... – by B.C. Byron | 49 Views added 1 year ago
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Dust of the moon, gray and dry.
It lacks cohesion and so do I.
If there were wind,
the sands would scatter -
lost to space, its precious matter.
The moon is braced against a breeze
that never comes to its life of ease.
While here on Earth,
... – by B.C. Byron | 45 Views added 1 year ago
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A little drop of sunlight
In a lake of lonely night,
A little drop of comfort
To a mind that's wound up tight,
A little drop of water
In a throat that's feeling dry,
A little dripping teardrop
From an eye that needs a cry.
A drop into your... – by B.C. Byron | 46 Views added 1 year ago
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Done got caught by the grammar police.
They throwed me in the jail.
Been poemin' my words all wrongly,
Made folks moan and wail.
I says my piece just how I please,
Don't care if people disagrees.
To all them poem referees
I says,
Go stuff... – by BC Byron | 29 Views added 1 year ago
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