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andrew-foster
When i lose all hope i pick up your wooden gloss and i make you understand and the sound of your understanding it makes me relax the soft vibrations ringing in my ear telling me it's ok to fear the sound of your strings it helps me to feel it helps me to decipher what feelings are real i just kneel and cry and strum and you understand i wanna be done so you ease my heart and clear my mind and you let me play you as i cry you don't push me away you always talk back and the sound of your talking it makes me relax
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Apr 9, 2011
Apr 9, 2011 at 7:37 PM UTC
Understanding
Eb and Flow See my rhythms and poems Have no motion no flow Sometimes they Eb But even that happens real slow The motion is there I Just don’t wanna let it go If I add it you’d know That I cared to grow And learn, discern I won’t say anymore Except for this I took a piece of bliss Put it in my back pocket Sat down and smashed it Took it out then I dropped it My language saw me Decided I should stop it So I brushed it off Told everyone that I lost it Truth is that I crossed it Didn’t earn the ability Says who? Says Me. So I took and I tossed it Whats left I don’t know No language Sometime I Eb But even that happens slow
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Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 10:39 AM UTC
Eb & Flow
Warm tones of sound and light Illuminate what they call plight Fantasies of men wrapped in suits in flight Nightmares of suits who profit from the fight Illusions now They fight somehow Sweat above the brow Illusions now
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Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 12:37 PM UTC
Minds of Men
One last, One last, One last Breath unto the death I live again, i win again, i sin again I'm drownin yet again In a swamp of human thought Caught What i sought Was eternal, now I'm eternally living this inferno So called life I deserve less strife For every wrong i made right When i held back didn't fight Bringing these eyes into the light Hopelessness Get undressed And ***** by a cultures Impressions of the few people greater than you.
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Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 8:40 AM UTC
One Last
There’s an uncertainty in the shadows hanging over me There’s a masterpiece in the failed attempts ahead of me But will I get there before I die? No support…that is gone to my dismay So who is there…if in the ground my body lay Who is there when I achieve The Masterpiece ahead me Ultimately it's not me
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Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 12:33 PM UTC
Not Very Good