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Diana Morales Poem
Dedicated to my dearest youngest sister,
Happy Birthday Lucy (May 31)
Age of novice years,
a glow of purity along
with a smile of innocence,
born with a tiny frame yet
exuded an ultimate
presence.
A light like no other,
tremendous capability,
but how so?
In a sky of darkness,
you are a tiny dot of
bright light surrounded
by ones of a larger
proportion that casts
a shadow over your
glow,
Yet you maintain
that simple overlooked
shine of yours as
it continues to grow.
Amongst the great
you become steadfast,
releasing
the wisdom gifted
to you.
A nightlight in
the shadows you
become, bringing
comfort,
a tiny dot,
the biggest heart,
The Youngest Light.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Lord knows the Devil
I encountered. Hidden
hypocrisy swayed naivety I
exuded. Smiling with grace but
crossing betrayal behind your
back while holding my hand with
the other. Delicate melodies of grace strumming
along inconspicuous quos while feeding
me with Eden’s fruit hung in God’s hand.
Mirages of desolated oases surrounded you,
A pity fool I became at your wits playing
me instead. Awakened clarity
in one bite-filled rage,
thank you bold face
snake. Now, I live
my life in
gratitude.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
People ask
as they wonder,
what holds
you? Is it
fear? Is it
doubt? Is it
distrust? or is it
all or
neither?
A flower is brought
into this world amidst
chaos
unknowingly
what it may
encounter yet
it remains
pure.
Confined by
discourtesy
trickled by
irregularities
lured by
fallacies yet
stands still as
nature's
gift
as it
shimmers
brightly.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Crazy how past
days weighs
heavily on each
raindrop passing
by, as a train
token in the abyss,
it sinks deeper
subconsciously,
i reminisce,
careful thoughts
glide over ice,
paradise is not
enough to suffice
the wreckage
that ensued under
the night sky,
mind afloat
in the flood of
broken hopes,
staying above
not wanting
to drown,
gazing upward,
it persists,
clenching it's fists
it insists
to seek
help through
the mist,
as raindrops
carry time shops
to swap eternity
when it stops.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Flames that ignites
bright red at its core,
ravenous hunger linger
overwhelmed by its
hot desire and through
the night it burns,
its visible heat scorches
the skin of its next victim,
leaving a mark of sole
ownership, it kisses
endearingly seducing
in enchantment,
torturous feeling reigns
in a field of thrones caused
by a leakage of subtle
attraction,
a rose in its prime curves
and twists along these
spikes being
tormented,
suffocated,
coddled violently,
but its beautiful sight continues
to call the
Master of Silver Tongue,
Eyes of Lust and Passion
sways its prey shackling
its heart for a moment
of pleasure.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Graciousness forms
the apparel of the meek,
tempered in blistering
hues of aura crafted
with the breath of
exhaustion sinking
deep into the soul
of the soulless,
there it wanders
with eyes open wide,
a pop of life silenced
by its surroundings,
forsaken lands filled
with despotic nature,
crucified
their interior along
with their exterior,
proceeding cautiously
as it gravitates
toward the center,
connecting humble
origins placing
the palm of its heart onto
forced separation,
the wind wraps
around creating
sanctuary healing
the wounded descent
of sacrifice,
predetermined
by its antecedents,
a child born
through ashes into
the world's callous
ever ruling
appeal.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Outside the trees are called
by the Autumn’s breeze.
The door isn’t perfectly shut
as the leaves seep through
the uneven cracks.
The whistling tune from
Nature’s broken karaoke
machine finds its way under
the door. Slowly the shadows
become dimmer as the morning
sun sets in and the birds begin
to chirp as the crickets causes
a ruckus enough to wake
the subconscious mind from
sleeping internally.
The couch as always hard
as a stone bruising my arms
and legs as I flail finding rest,
but consistently remains
courteous as my only true
companion who knows
me and my heart, becoming
a good friend. The bells
chime, the cars honk,
the sounds of the people
marching to and from
their next destination.
As I step outside with
my messy hair, bad breath,
blurry vision, I take a glance
and the air greets me,
another daybreak awaits.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Loitering around at the expense
of my parents back,
I too wish to be at the resemblance
of hardworking thumbs,
those same fingers that sewed
the futile grounds back home,
my mother’s yuca farm,
my father's dying crops,
dance taking their final
waltz with the tumble-
weeds in direction
where my ancestors
sleep while their bones
continue
to prosper,
their voices evoke
within the breeze
that had asked
for generational appeal
to the heavens that took
their last breath,
“My body crisp
at the sight of the sun,
my mind wavers as my heart
knows endless
bounties of weeds,
twisting,
turning,
suffocating,
all of life beneath
our breaths,
Yet The Night is upon us,
offering eternal rest as
mercy has finally reached
it's limits, a new vision
begins alongside
the Golden
thread of Youth,
a soul that marked
a beginning and now
an end.”
All that's left withered
away as each ancestor
departs,
my parents left their grounds,
the vibrancy of life dried
up leaving no generations
behind,
My Youth became
their bodies and my life
framed forever in each
era of my ancestors.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Laying down wondering
where did you go after
visiting my dreams
from time to time?
A regular guest you became,
Now I see you less and
less leaving my memories
in such an emotional
distraught,
as you left a feeling
I thought I would never have,
a desire unknown,
a burning sensation leaving
me trembling whenever
I fall asleep
dreaming hoping
to see you but terrified
to awake in our gardens with-
out you,
your lasting impression heightens
this tension made by your
breath,
voice,
smile,
and eyes,
a reflection in every flower
I pass by,
as I get closer to the end
of this path,
I slowly step off
this carousel,
despite your absence in our
short lived encounters,
I await your return breathing
in the last gift you left,
silently I yearn on my own
behalf..
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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Diana Morales Poem
Expectations brings
about self deprecations,
sometimes I wonder if
the thoughts running
through my head are
my own or somebody
else’s?
The world lives
in constant turmoil,
waves crashing,
tides swerving in
and out from open-
ended beaches,
abysmal delays of
the lighthouse directory,
guided by supplemental
shocks of lightening
rays trajectory.
I stand firmly in front
of the baseless sandcastle,
a fragile foundation of
past voices from lurking
shadows who slowly
poisoned its interior,
lack of motivation,
wandering in between
spaces incoherently,
my mind in anxiety help-
lessly what I could
not understand,
the words stare back
at me in silence gradually
suppressing the last
bit of life found closing
in underneath,
time holds on as
it falls into deep
sleep.
Copyright © Diana Morales | Year Posted 2025
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