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amy-denison
amy-denison
American Will I ever finish a poem? Probably not.
My anxiety is eating me alive, Scraping out every little morsel it can find. And there's nothing to ease the pain, That I feel in my ever-eroding brain.
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
):
It seems to me That life is full of guarantees, Dreams bound to come true And the promise of another morning's dew I know of many lovely things Such as the gift of a lover's ring, A white dress made of lace And the smile on a future child's face
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Hope
I used to pick up a pen Or start typing away And tell of all the secrets I had been dying to say But the words won't flow They just never sound right Everything is stuck I can't win this fight
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 8:05 PM UTC
Writer's Block
I once wrote a poem Of a girl that I knew But I no longer feel the same So take this poem to be true This girl that I know Acts blonder than her hair She likes to put on a show And got caught shoplifting at Claire's She surrounds herself with guys And Miley Cyrus magazines She has the prettiest eyes And would die for a benzodiazepine She hates her size, and her thighs But she really just can't see It's in vain that she tries Because she is nothing but perfect to me I've never felt better Than with this girl that I know She's cuter than an Irish Red and White Setter Hannah, I love you
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
The Girl (Revised)
The hardest thing to handle It seems Is that the things which bring me solace Don't come naturally to me I waste my days away Waiting patiently For a habit or a hobby That will instantly set me free I sit and I stir with anxiety And I hope faithfully But I have found nothing And nothing will find me
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
Faithfully
I get this feeling every time I pass over a bridge That I could just float on down And swim all the way to Madrid Or how about what I feel when I see a train That I could just leave all my renown And ride all the way to Ukraine Let's not forget the feeling of having a plan To leave this piece of **** town And run away, even to Iran
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Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 7:38 PM UTC
The places I could go...
My fingers are calloused From the strings of my guitar Just as my mind is filled with malice From all of these scars My heart is weighed down From the numerous burdens My physiognomy forever a frown From all of the exertion
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
And I'm tired now
I find myself to be easily entertained Yet I could fall asleep At the sound of your name
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
Oh, What a Bore
I see how other people feel I watch how they act And I can't help but notice That I'm not like that I don't smile I hardly laugh I get so nervous I can't even talk I look like a ***** I feel so insecure I was easily forgotten I am nothing yet But I have a friend And I have a future I'm working on it I know I can do it
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Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
Nothing Yet
there is a tone in the air I breathe it in deep and say a quick prayer so that I might fall asleep there is a noise in my ear that is constantly humming filling me with a fear to which I am succumbing there is a thought in my head of what happens in the sea as tears are being shed as my weaknesses call to me
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Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
the thought of the sea