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Bhill Aug 2020
who belonged to this heart
beating all alone
alone in the middle of a crowd
was it a he or she
how can you tell when striped of all protection
all coverings gone and naked among the masses
we can tell that this heart is alone
invite the heart to join in and welcome its independence
we all need
we all need to belong

Brian Hill - 2020 # 229
Who?
annh Aug 2020
Lost in the empty crowd,
Searching for your eyes,
Questing for sweet recognition,
A face to call home.

‘In spite of its romantic frisson, the position of muse is very vague and largely thankless for the muse herself.’
- Katie Roiphe, In Praise of Messy Lives
Kanika Chugh Jun 2020
Brushes of Golden spark,
Igniting enigmatic eyes….
Bringing out the beauty inside out.

Often they say “you’re beautiful”,
Seldom they mean…
Invariably unfailingly they match beauty inside and out.

Capricious souls, always on lookout
Claiming to love roses with thorns…
Petrified with inside beauty if blown out.

Malignant steps attempting to curb the blaze
Demanding normality…
For they dread the glowing light shining out

It’s time to oppose the crowd
Leaving those hollow soothings unanswered…
Use that helpless wonder for the fears to break out.

As the sun sets to rest
Glorious reality checking in…
Take that burning desire to shine from inside and out.
Riley Jun 2020
Numbed & dumbed
Into a void of oblivion
So far beyond the grasp of reality
My face is not my face but a doormat

Numbed & dumbed
A skull left to frighten
Watching you dance through little mirrors stuck in the eye socket
Peering, admiring
But who, admires who more?

But the skeleton, oh he stares, stares right back at you
With eyes crooning and booing
And me boohooing
The crowds tough
I’m looking for your face in the crowd
It always seems like I saw you
I cherish the memories and my dreams
The only things left me by you.

I follow your voice inside my head
It judges, it laughs, it whispers
The things I forgave
But need to forget
In order to take my life back
From you.
Moomin Apr 2020
Some people lead, and decide what we need, they are sure and decisive and proud
Others tag along, in a compliant throng, they have to be part of the crowd
But there are those who are staid, because they are afraid, of the prospect of being despised
And so they withdraw, behind a safe door, and live in the shade all their lives    

She's alone and so tense, when school days commence, enduring the chaos she sees
The object of jest, ignored by the best, chosen last in the sporting decrees
She knows she's no belle and the spots really tell, as she stoops low to appear less tall
They see freckles and glass, they see a clumsy outcast, and an unfashionable scruff at the ball

Yet, away from the crowd, she sings sweetly and loud, tends animals in her kind way
She is loyal and wise, and does not despise, those less fortunate and in dismay
She is zealous and funny, and her smile always sunny, and her failings she does not try to hide
And if they cared to pry, and look into her eyes, they would see she is beautiful inside

There was another young girl, whose flame was unfurled, when she became woman at first
From pain of the past, to smashed looking glass, and the thought of a small breasted curse
With the world she contended, those she loved, she offended, till their love was exhausted and spent
Once lost from its sight, she could not do right, and spiralled, and twisted and bent

Yet, some could recall, when she was still small, and eager and funny and sweet,
when she used to run, to please everyone, and joyfully cuddle and greet
For this girl was true, and genuine through, and barren of pretense and pride
Yet most could not see, that, always was she, so innocent and beautiful inside    

This lad is not strong, and he has never belonged, to a gang or a club or a team
For stammer and blush, are easily crushed, by the boys who are considered the cream  
No sport and no game, no President's name, but the task of retrieving the ball
Dismissed and derided, by those that decided, that a man should be seven feet tall

But his mind is a place, where wonders take place, and brilliance comes to the fore
Pouring out words, and music unfurled, which causes the spirit to soar
When he sings, he's not slow, and his closest ones know, that his rare gift cannot be denied                
Though hidden away from the world's selfish gaze, his voice is so beautiful inside

And another is she, a mother of three, who's fleeting love has long disappeared
Yet the blame she will take, and guilt she can't shake, as she pauses her dreams for some years
Mistakes, she has made, and her children will pay, and gratitude she is denied
And she must run with the crowd, and pretend she is proud, when she really is dying inside

Had they known her, before sadness occurred, they would have seen trust and a friend
Unselfish and wise, swift to empathize, and never would her principles bend  
For she would have shone, a rare companion, one that would stand by their side
Through danger and despair, she'd always be there, because she is so beautiful inside  

He now lives alone, since his beloved passed on, taking with her his passion and pride
He still rises at dawn, though his work is long gone, and his home is so cluttered inside    
He dreads stepping out, where the young taunters shout, of his baldness, his stoop and his skin
In a world that thinks age, is a lonely dark cage, where you go when you're ready to give in

Yet stored in his mind, is a library in kind, that holds so much wisdom and lore
He found joy, and true love, searched for God up above, knowing peace, yet enduring a war
A father, a son, a hero when young, supporting the poor and the tired
Once loved and adored, by many who saw, the man who is beautiful inside

When we think of our friends, and what drew us to them, was it their job, their hobbies, their smile?
Or the music they chose, their hair or their clothes, or was it something we could not define?
Because we need to be sure, it was something more pure, something worth the investment of you
Cos, Good looks don't mean kind, and pretty fades with time, but loyalty will always hold true

For a good sense of fashion doesn't breed compassion, and a hot date can often cause burns
Bravado is fleeting, and self-confidence self defeating, and sarcasm often returns
Do we want fun, and affairs on the run, or are we really looking for more?
If not, then dig deep, and be ready to weep, for calamity stands at your door

For, when all's said and done, we fear being alone, and we fight for the souls that we choose
Whether kindness or cruel, the wise or the fool, with them we will win or we lose
And hope  settles down, and wanders around, searching for one who'll be kind
So don't settle for less, but administer this test, and see if they are beautiful inside
In loving memory of my sweet niece, Toni, who took her own life
Velvel Ben David Apr 2020
He handed out love
Like it was an object
In a gift-wrapped box
With gift receipt taped on
After few times use
They went to the store
They got a full refund
He never got back
What he freely gave

I’m still young
He thought
I’m just enjoying life
He thought
I really care about those women
He thought
I’m being honest about my feelings
He thought
I’ll find the right one this way
He thought
Twenty-eight women later

He was more degraded
Than ever before
The number wasn’t impressive
He certainly wasn’t proud
He’d rather it roll back
To zero or maybe one or two
At the most. Only those few
First cuts who left their mark
Were still on his mind from
Time to time or all the time
Depending on how honest
He was on that particular day
He’s a suicide case
He feels sick to his stomach
Unsteady, faint, vertigo
He falls - falls - has fallen
He feels a hand at his neck
His chest tight like a rope
Was wrapped around it
Tied to a pick up truck
And drove forwards at full speed
Clutching him ever tighter
His breath sapped from his lungs
“I only want to be a better man
A better man than I am
To live and not to fear
To thrive on happiness
Not fall into the same old trap
Of mortal hungers”
These words loop in his head
Like a broken record
Light fades from his eyes
A ringing floods his ears
Like the dial-tone of an old phone
Left hanging on the cord
When a call is long over
The choice is his to try again
His alone
Either to live on
- or -
To die a lump on the stone cold floor
He starts to cry
He’s full of fear
- but -
No one’s half as anxious as the crowd
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