THE HEART by Susan Byrnes

I saw cruelty and hate and my heart grew heavy I felt trapped and so dark I could not escape I found a way to blot out the world and dove in deep it was another dark web and gave no relief I wanted to leave I wanted to stay my heart did not know…

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CHANGE by Adrienne Parks

There are so many things we take for granted. That we will wake up the next morning. Our mothers and fathers will too. The newspaper will be in the driveway where thrown. The mail will be pushed through the slit in the door by three pm. The internet connectivity bill will come this month. There…

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INNOCENCE TAKEN by Rosella Gómez

When I was a child innocent in life he came to bring me angry strife my little hands reached up for mom a childs plight oh what a bomb with words of truth to hit her hard and then become her child bard from any light to cleanse my soul to becoming the worst of…

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WORDS By Fiona Goodwin

There was a time when there were no words We roamed the Earth nevertheless communicating We watched each other’s faces Saw truth and lies in our eyes Now we have words, Lots of them. My heart is the author of my words Unless of course I’ve drunk too much coffee eaten too much cake. (Or…

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SURRENDER by Tenzin Saveon

Some days having cancer makes me want to cry, not the loud wailing cry,but a quiet „“just hold me whilst I cry“ kind of weep… where we ebb and flow with the gentle emotion,today is one of those days. So I am wishing my beautiful, beloved’s arms were holding me. and we were on a…

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BURIED IN FLAMES By Kristi Kirby

Buried in flames and ashes after the fiery combustion of my burning heart I rise above the flames. I soar through the fire elements below me scaling higher and higher. I rise with fast moving speed, evolving, changing, finding the lost woman inside me. I feel the negative weight lifted and lightness emerges in my heart. Light…

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UNKNOWN Sent in by Rhona Ceccato

”Every minute someone leaves this world behind. We are all in “the line” without knowing it. We never know how many people are before us. We can not move to the back of the line. We can not step out of the line. We can not avoid the line. So while we wait in line…

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THE FOLK I COLLECT By Beth Haist

My mudra holds a heart That slips away As easy as a sand mandela That detailed impermanence Grain by grain I string together memories Scattered in the hard, tan landscape Twirling, touching the milky greens and paler roseas Edged sea glass Translucent Like the folk I collect

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