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scrambledegg
i try to feel but i can't how many times you want me to stand by the window and look to the sky and wonder how are you how beautiful your face is how much i loved you how many times you wanted me to wrap myself in the red quilt and wonder how much you meant to me
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Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 7:49 AM UTC
how many times
As ravishing as ever, sparkling she seems Wrapped in the most vibrant piece of silk, Gives fire to my dreams. Lies at the corner of my room Distant from everything else, Encloses an insight to the brightest of worlds. She resembles a flower With hues that are exquisite; There lies, the most precious, the glorious volume of literature i possess.
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Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
my possession
Such is the beauty of rainfall, How it descends with a sound so dulcet, How it transcends a feeling so euphoric And such dazzle it exhibits Like one, no one would dare to neglect. But it makes me upset How chaps romanticize rain, They are fooled so much by the affection of their beloved For they do not realize The way it washes away the pain. Little raindrops fall on my body Fusing with my skin; Oh, how they tell me to live When they speak to me and tell me to Nourish, and give life to my surroundings. One may wonder that how The rain makes me feel such way. They fail to realize that the downpour For me, is just a reflection of the ideal life I perceive.
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 5:48 AM UTC
the rain.
I wander in search of a pseudonym A name which no one can recognize I lay on the floor feeling prim Of all the things I despise I wish to search for a new individuality Something new to look forward to I think that I have lost my quality And there’s nothing left in me I am short of syllables to utter And tired of my reality So I wander in the search of a pseudonym- A name which no one can recognize
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 5:47 AM UTC
in search of a pseudonym
The nights bring with it a gloomy solace. The stars ornament the sky And represent the beauty of our woes. The moon flaunts itself As he exhibits hope in the darkest times. The sky at dusk is a melodrama, Mixing emotions with the color of blue And with regret from all days past. The fidgety mind idles in a startled hue Resting all sentiments aghast; Oh, do not perceive that I call the night An epoch of the wretched. It may just be what I heed For this is the time, When the strongest seek consolation, The hustlers drowse, And the content pray, For the morrow.
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Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 7:45 AM UTC
the night.