2016: EB POETS EXERCISE LXVII

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Theme:

Lost, the mirror could not read me
Tired eyes and emptiness like a glass they filled me
Out on a search for the girl I once was
Found something better, found you and me-Hybrid
Let one fruit fall to ripen the other
These hearts must break for love to recover
Give for wisdom unsought 
An end; a less taut- Leon
I needed to find myself, needed to be alive.
But around every corner was a stray smile, a lending hand.
An open door,a please stay a while.
And in those moments I knew I didn’t have to look too far away.-Joy
In an anger race,stumbled on luck
Very close to regret,breakthrough emerged
Fell,into an open door,didn’t knock 
All these,Bangwan never planned- Bangwan
I’ve seen me in my casket
No, not like that. In one of my many nightmares.
Expensive suits, bowtie and sleek Italian shoes
Weirdly, it felt like a calm sea tinged blue by the clouds overhead – Tee2emm
Sold myself short when I said stuff like ‘would I ever get mines?’ 
until just mere glimpse turned into a shell shocked, open mouthed stare
what seemed so surreal, unbelievably traded places with my reality,
as I saw a bag of money laying in front of me..- Fifteey
Full of benevolence,
Intense fervor, love never found,
Bout, sulking in self pity,
Ending in a serendipitous joy.-Hijab gurl
Our parting, the bite of a hundred adders.
Our grief, the loss of fallen Angels.
Your resurrection bloomed a thousand hibiscus.
My ascension; the eternal stab of devotion.- OracLe
Accolades of the colored candle resting on the sleeve of my beating chest,
eluding the barren intentions of my third eye gazing at that buried chess.
What’s the part of this crown made with the blood of an orphaned cry?
Why is this home cold, with winds that makes me dry? – Ruddapoet
Within a scoop of empty dreams 
She finds unfolding  streams 
Even with eyes wide shut, 
Her  many streams flow to an ocean…AP
Crazy busy lost but can’t be attained. 
Kept margins with errors
Found when not searching
Your good luck charm I became.  Hypermind
I snap in line to yearn coincidence
As though pinching omen to 
Grace my ladder of hopes
That bath this fire.-MALA

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