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Hunger to Survive

The lion lays quietly atop an overhanging hill.

He waits, watches in the vain fervor that his prey

Will come to him in deadly night like a diet pill

That will stop his hunger and permit his teeth to stay

Sharp, glistening white, creating a shiver of fear

Of their ferocity and ability to tear apart an arm,

Or important extremities that flash their spear

Of speed trying to outrun the King.

The atmosphere of fear is so authentic

That i can feel the lion’s eyes shifting silently,

Watching guardedly, waiting patiently to pounce happily

On his unsuspecting prey.

His jaws are cave like

In their imposing strength and bite force.

Never fear the lion, for you know he attacks

To survive not for pleasure.

Fear those who appear like sheep, but are

More serpent or fox, for their poisons

Attack the soul and destroy lives as if doing a favor.

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Life’s Escape

The indomitable spirit of creativity rises into the mist to freeze;

Statue like, afraid to step out of bounds and create waves.

Upheavals are the bane and blood of lives decimated by the breese

That brings about change, destroying the habit that flays,

Suppresses, and binds your imagination in boxes and trays.

Unfurl the wisps of ingenuity, let them skyrocket

Into a plane of your creation, where equality, being just,

Open minded, and a visionary that’s avant-gardist;

Help lift your spirit into an escape that is not destitute

In its vibrancy, brilliancy of color, mood, race, and emotive

In its design, constructing your humanity in its skeleton,

Building its bones and structure with strength of emotion

That flutters its purpose and sinks into your sedidentary heart.

Reviving its passionate will that bombards your seclusion

With friendship, family, fascination, and a frenzy for life.

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Illusion of Trust

Illusion of Trust I’m Glutton for punishment

I’ve trusted before, and there was such disappointment.

I will trust again and recall its simplicity,

Knowing its extreme complexity,

And the consequences of another violation:

Distress, disillusionment, broken, not bones

Rather the serene heart, naive and doting,

That tries to compensate for the disconsolating

Desire to reject the atrocities visited upon me

Playing the role of one who accepts, but the wound

Festers, thrives in hate rather than acceptance,

Decimating your certitude in yourself and your mask.

The disguise you wear to play a variety of roles

That society imposes, from child, to friend,

To colleague, to competitor, to family, to enemy.

Few, so few, actually know and accept you,

That there are times when you feel that your life is a play.

A Shakesperean tragedy that ends with heartache.

What then, I ask? Trust, shattered!

What is annihilated in seconds, minutes, hours,

Takes years to rebuild, cement, and strengthen.

Never lose hope in trusting others,

For then they win the fray, leaving you fragmented.

Show them, through your play, that hope is endless,

Trust is for the courageous,

Optimism is for those willing to put in a fight,

And faith in yourself constructs your theater

In which your own rules fly!