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Irish I like to write haikus. Usually about things I don't like. Sometimes, I also write other non-haiku-type-stuff. Only sometimes.
Hold the smoke in your hands; Eat the love that the others feed you; hold your children in your poison arms; You know you've got something to live for. Feel the heat warm your fingers; Let the sadness pierce your soul; But just pretend that you're happy; Like you've got something to live for. Touch the burner on the stove; Let the pain just resonate; Cause in your head You cannot see; A single thing to live for. Close your eyes and go to sleep; Pick your poison steal your breath; Eat your heart out on this decay; You were right, what's there to live for?
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Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 5:26 AM UTC
lanmò
Broken foot leftover fish and chips Friend who I should talk to more tried to commit suicide And I don't care as much as I should Because it's ******* Christmas But there's no mistletoe. All I see are broken people Living out their technicolor lives With their eyes closed.
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Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 5:07 AM UTC
Excavate
The best advice I've ever gotten Is to view yourself as an equal. Everyone Even the ones who seem perfect. They've got the same Everything. They share your problems. Your heartaches, your pains Are theirs. We are too wrapped up in ourselves To notice everyone else Bleeding. The same way we are. But if you take a second, And step out of your own pain and misery, You will realize. We're all the same at heart.
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Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 7:01 PM UTC
~
This is not a love poem, I don't even know your name. You might as well be a figment of my overactive brain. I don't know where you're going when I pass you on the stairs. But I know there isn't any place I'd rather be than there. You have great taste in music Yeah, you're really good at art. Although I do not know you, You've stolen all my heart. And there is only one thing That I know to be true; You will never notice me, the way I notice you.
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Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 6:55 PM UTC
Not a Love Poem
Oh, three- in- the- morning, how you snuck up on me, so craftily. I don't want to go to sleep. I'm having too much fun. I set the clocks back to twelve; just to see if maybe it will turn back time So I can finish my videogame before the alarm goes off in the morning.
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Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 12:59 AM UTC
Ode to 3 A.M.