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shanelle-benson
American No-nonsense girl with opinions and ideas.
Another plane went down today in the Atlantic Nine miles off shore Eight black cars sped by my window Not a single of them yours Seven men brushed past me today I turned momentarily, only to be denied Six calls from friends and your family All wondering where you're at Five minutes of crying Standing in the shower alone Four of them spent staring at the wall The cracks mesmerizing this close Three children died in that crash A little girl, two little boys Two mothers as well One holding on to her son, tightly One man died along with them A man I knew so well Zero of you came home to me All of you lost to death.
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Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
Nine
It’s true what they say, about war It’s the rich who start it, those that suffer being the poor We work our butts off from day to day Only to spill a little more blood, for you to stay in the good old USA. I personally have no time, for this pointless violence All I ask of you is a simple minute of silence! You know that fleeting minute, when no one’s in pain? But then again, we don’t really know how to play that game. No screaming, no yelling, no playing, no fighting, Try to run away from it all, just like I did. You won’t get far, trust me on that, They’ll pull you back in, dragging you on your back. Let’s put away the guns and accusations please, Maybe it’s time we pay a little respect to the world we've made! The world’s not ours for the taking that’s for sure, But we’re the USA, so we’ll make it our goal anyway! In the end, it’s not the battles you’ve triumphantly won Not the people you’ve killed, or those you’ve over run. It’s the times you’ve fallen, and gotten right back up, It’s the one’s you’ve lost and successfully over come.
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Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 9:03 AM UTC
War
The pain was now his existence, as he settled there to breathe, No mortal would stop him from sinking beneath. Too weak to get up and fight, too strong to try again, To settle here and die, or to close his eyes and leave with them. He had killed so many, and still kept his name, The blood flowed beneath him, making him insane. Ever weary with his own life, and glad they were that he came, Now they suffer below him, at the pain he would not claim. Now he feels dense, for the hellish screams he unleashed, As he walks away, leaving the men he killed to bleed. He smiles at the night, knowing he is alive, Hoping in the end, the darkness will suffocate him from inside
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Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 9:03 AM UTC
Hope - Misleading
Folded, unfolded, folded…. I will never have the choice of coming undone Crashing, burning, and this relentless yearning I have the privilege of seeing it all from within Never stopping, never slowing, Never breathing, never showing I will no longer pretend, I will no longer look away I am here to show you that I am going to stay. Creased, uncreased, creased…. I am scared, frightened, and alone Weak, no direction, no place to run to No place to call home No red slippers to tap away with No yellow bricks to follow I have no map, no compass, and no sense And I'll face the fact that I will be lost in shadow. Bent, unbent, bent…. I will do the right thing, some how Knowing this, as I do, helps in the end Makes it all clear, makes me mend Always raining, never calm Always screaming, never sleeping I am no longer human, no longer whole Always weak, never strong Always right, never wrong…
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Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 9:00 AM UTC
Creased