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Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
The truck, it is brown.
Her uniform, it is tan.
I find it oh so ****, when she rolls up in that van.
She's one of a kind.
Not many can hack it.
I fell in love with the way she handled my package.
Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
Always.
A lie.
Today.
A lie.
Now.
A lie.
You.
A lie.
Forever was your broken promise.
Love.
A lie.
Hate.
A lie.
Pain.
A lie.
Happy.
A lie.
Peace.
A lie.
Forever was your broken promise.
Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
I could fall apart and you won't know.
I can shed tears and you won't hear a single sound.
I could be strong so you won't know I'm weak.
I can break and you won't see.
I could tear myself to pieces and you won't know.
I can tell you how I feel but you won't get it.
I could say I'm alright and you'll believe me.
I can be there for you but you won't be there for me.
I could fall to pieces and you wouldn't see.
Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
A blank piece of paper
I can write, draw, do anything
a note, a letter, a story
I start to have a vision
I'll write a little message
Send it out to sea
As the bottle floats away
I hope that someone finds it
Two days later a call for me
Someone found my message
They said they opened the bottle
But the paper was folded In a heart
And the ink was running off
And as my vision ended
I was sad to think
That every heart will bleed
But now I know
My message in a bottle will be
A Paper Heart Bleeds Ink
Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
It's you I think about when I'm lying here awake. It's you that makes me laugh and cry. It's you that makes me feel happy and sad. It is you that I love and you that I want to be with forever.

It's you that annoys me and that entertains me. It's you that I talk to and that I ignore. It's you that I care about and do t give a **** about. It's you that I cry over and cry for.

You are in my head and I never want you to leave. It's you that I want to hold me and make things better each and every day. It's you that I want and need.

It's just you. And that is enough for me.
Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
I could write a sappy poem,
I could sing you a stupid song
I could tell you how I feel,
From the bottom of my heart.
But none of it's unique,
And I can't seem to think,
of how to tell you just perfectly.
That I love you.
Those are 8 letters, three words.
But I can't seem to find a better way to say it.
I wish I could tell you that you make my heart pound,
my head spin and my hands shake,
You give me butterflies, and I love it.
No, it's not some mistake,
I know exactly who you are.
I know how I feel and what i want.
We've fought and cried,
laughed and smiled.
For only just over a year,
it feels like 1000 miles
I can't believe where we are
How did we get this far?
We started as friends.
And you laughed because i couldn't spell that.
You have my heart now.
And I want to let you know,
That I could write a sappy poem,
or sing a stupid song,
I could tell you how I feel,
from the bottom of my heart.
But none of it's unique,
and I can't seem to think,
Of how to tell you just perfectly
That I love you.
Samantha Robbins Feb 2013
I wonder if her lips trembled when she was told.
Did tears run down her face or was she just silent?
My life was ended before I got to see her.
Leaving was the hardest thing to do.
Hadn’t it been our birthday that day?
I was on my way to see her.
The first year passed and I wondered if she was okay.
I bet she walked around with a smile.
She was always stronger than me.
When I left I didn’t know if she’d miss me.
I was a broken person, always leaning on her.
She was always there for me when I needed comfort.
In the second year, did she stop coming to my grave?
When I left, did she finally break?
I wanted to watch over her and keep her safe.
Does she hate our birthday now?
I would if things had been the other way around.
I would not be able to celebrate.
Three years pass and I wonder if she’d forgotten my face.
I stopped counting the days long ago but I know she still does.
I wish I could say sorry because I didn’t want to leave.
Three more minutes and my life may not have gone away.
The car would of gone by and the road would have been clear.
When four years pass will she be able to talk about me again?
Will a smile cross her face when she thinks of me?
When I left, I didn’t think it’d be this way.
Does she think I meant to leave?
Persona Poem in the view of a friend of mine that died.
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