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roman-soanco
roman-soanco
Hugged by heavy air My sofa became a place of peace Outside? I tried going there Became scared of the forest midst the trees
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May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC
Fog
little citrus seed that grows and glows i shine my light on you . . . farewell lemon tree forgive me please for taking us to bed
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Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
Our Garden
Merely a scratch. Don't go looking for a bruising, A festering wound or any of that. Everything happened so fast, Yet don't go thinking the pain won't last. I'm only saying, Not thinking or praying, That I'm hurt. Wanting my Mr. Bandaid, To soothe me with his healing hugs.
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Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
Hug
Words Written,   Ascending    In    a   pattern     So   easy   to   see.    And that is why   They will fail To move Me .
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Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
Simplicity
Letters delicately carved in paper                              thrown away            describing who I am                                        always wanted to be                              themselves            formed by pure chaos lingering in my fingers                                                I yearn to control            define me                       you                       us                               forever
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Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
Mind
A man once sailed across the sea to find undiscovered selves dug deep down inside. His kin has bailed, now returned home no more pictures on his shelves. Here to die alone. A man will sail no more.
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Journey
Mountains had fallen, decades had passed, for him all have bowed. Now on top of it all, he can only look down to resist the dreadful calling of the void.
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 7:16 PM UTC
Stars
When the roads become tangled, allow yourself to tread the dark. Indulge in its fragile serenity but never feel alone. As, you know, where no one sees, love still shines the brightest.
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Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 6:37 PM UTC
Lantern
The bridge on which he stood could be walked not more than two ways they said. "Lies" he claimed as he jumped off, hurdling towards the greyish hue of concrete reflected in his now not so far faded pupils.
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Bridge
Is a poem written, to be never read, actually written? Ofcourse he said: as for poems aren't   falling trees in desolate forests
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May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
Thoughts