Annie Carmichael

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On Greenore Street resident of house 19
Tones of home across the miles
Burred roots
Boned skeletons
Flesh History
Records family
Annie, an Irish girl
Long since passed

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Microchip

techno-tithe
Following the maniacs of society
On the grounds of technology
Their thinking has no options
Following trends of the fashion
These people are all the same
Where is the difference
Don’t tell me that I’m the only one
Who feels the way that I do
Stuck with all the dead beats
Following the pied piper
Like rats brainwashed
Tell me that i am not the only one
That can think for me
I refuse to be
Another trend
Another sold idea
How can they fake it?
Must be hard to notice
When they act like advertisements
In the gardens of complete sameness
Sold their souls to the devil
Sold their minds to the gallows
Dead manikins of society
Don’t tell me that I’m the only one
Who feels the way that I do
Stuck with all the dead beats
Following the pied piper
Like rats brainwashed

The World

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The house of land and dreams
Have its many wanted gestures
We are all but savage distained reckless fools
Responsible for these possible acts of mindlessness
Upon these times I think on shelters dorm
No matter the plan conclude such waste
Time has left forever more for none establishment
People do start to become distracted within societies impediments
What shall become of us all?
In my thoughts as a gift without any words to speak, I do think
These lands and dreams
An idea of sense now bound and hung

RUNNING AWAY IS OKAY — AS LONG AS WE COME BACK

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HASTYWORDS

I asked Rachel to guest post for me and I might have pinched myself a few times when she said yes.  Seriously, this redhead is incredible. She’s not only the author of some very highly ranked and reviewed books on Amazon but she is also a poet.

The fact she is a poet thrills me to the core because I have been told many times that poetry doesn’t sell and yet…it does. Her newest book Broken Places is a brilliant mix of prose and poetry which reached #1 on Amazon’s Hot Releases within its first week of being released. I did not, however, realize any of these wonderful things about Rachel when I asked her to guest post.

I ran across Rachel’s guest post on Stigma Fighters which you can find HERE .  I am drawn to strong women and men who are survivors and who inspire others to be…

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Madeline Hood

th
Here on this earth life is threatened
There was once a young girl whom lost her life
At night it is hard to know her
Changing from moment to moment
Affecting me greatly
Torn with mounting grief
Taken by death
I cry for the young girls lost life
You are no longer here
And I cannot take back what I had seen
Haunting me this night
I cry for the young girls lost life

Gambit

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Gambit
Up late at night
Thinking about the future
Unsure sometimes
Up so late contemplating
The gambit of my yesterdays
Is every thought, and every sound

If I am in the right direction
Why do I always question
Resections I make
Wrong or right
Hate feeling the way I do
Even though I know what I am looking for

Bear with me if you can
With all the hope I’m still lost
Trying to figure out emotion
Wondering if it’s time to die
Under the gun, losing my soul