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STOLEN HANDS – Promote Yourself

handsxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sunday Evening…
All ready I’ve
Suffered enough
Of this
Incurable
Hopeless rage.
I sit
To try and write it out
My feelings flowing
From blood
To words
On this unforgiving page.

See I once
Held hands
That i
Stole
While i plotted lives
With a cold hearted
Grace.
Now my hands
Lie
Only to my
Own skin
The punishment
I deserve
There is no longer
Solace in a
Beautiful face.

I betrayed
My own
Beating innocence
It is now
A cold dead tomb
In which i am burdened
By its weight
With dark skies
And overdue consequences
Time has finally caught on
The price of lies
I’ve discovered
Is beauty
Returning
As hate.

Gabriel Denver

Escape – Promote Yourself

gunxxxxxxx
She watched her oppressor
Every move he made was important to her
As she planned her escape, his demise
Freedom, finally, from the emptiness in her eyes.
Drunk on lust and whiskey, he attacked
She bore the pain and performed the unthinkable acts.
No longer afraid,
She attacked him as he stumbled away.
His anger erupted, the vicious swings came
Without fear, she picks up his gun – takes aim
Bullets pierced the night and his blood rained.
He was dead in an instant,
But she paused only to wipe off her fingerprints.
She walked away from that place
Renewed hope, and for the first time in years, a smile on her face.

Thank you for this opportunity. For the last few years, all of my poems have been written, and put on my hard-drive, never to be seen by anyone but me. I realize now, that although protecting myself from critique, I was also violating the basics of being a writer – we write for ourselves, but we also write for others.

Sincerely,
Trysh L Thompson

Drums – Promote Yourself

drumsxxxxxxxxxxx

I prayed for grey
that the sun would go away
i prayed for rain.
I prayed for cold, i prayed for snow
housebound, to be alone.

mean it or not, plea or prayer
i prayed for strength – i prayed for fresh air.
i lesson to teach: how to forgive
a lesson not learned – a lesson believed.

unanswered words, were given to me
the only truth – which it could give
answer beyond, does not exist…

(shouting) silent and blood on my tips
rips on my fingers, sheets torn to bitts.
(chaos) inside lies peace
but inside is the one place i cannot reach.

I prayed for a storm
i prayed for the sounds
electricity, fire, water, clouds

shut my eyes, so hear the drums
playing loud where used to be the sun.

Katerina Fondi.

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