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weary-traveler
weary-traveler
Decisions, decisions Like a ticking clock Decisions, decisions When ever will it stop? Pinwheeling, pinwheeling From my ear to ear Pinwheeling, pinwheeling Which one to choose? Oh dear! If I choose the one, I may lose myself. If I choose the other, I may lose everyone.
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Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 1:16 AM UTC
Anxiety
Bustle All the city hustle Clang Watch the high rise train Smile politely Returns a hat tipped slightly March along To the pavement song See the sights From the top floor heights Fun-house reflections In the Bean, deceptions Stars at night Made by buildings' light Sleep's almost done, Time for more fun!
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
Chicago
Sometimes I feel alone and I want to die And I want to die, but this poem doesn't rhyme And if this poem doesn't rhyme then why do I try 'Cause if I try then maybe I won't want to die. And that's how you make a poem rhyme.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
Poetry Therapy
Life is an ocean, Leading nowhere but to some vast horizon No one can touch. And all the while, we go through peaks and valleys... But if we're really honest, We are riding the valleys, Waiting for that next cycle, Waiting until the next great fall, When we reach a valley again.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Oceans
I don't know if you know how tired I am Tired of putting on the face of someone who's Not crazy Not terrified Not overwhelmed By the waves crashing overhead My ears are ringing from how deep below the surface I am My lungs are burning from holding my breath every moment My tongue has teeth marks in it My heart beats doggedly against its scars And all the while, everyone stares at my drowning; tells me to stop struggling and just swim, ****** But they've forgotten that I never finished swim lessons from all the times I broke my arm growing up. They've forgotten, but me? I remember.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
If I could sleep for a thousand years, I would
Thomas O'Reilly was not a fool, Nor was he depressed or teased at school. In fact, he was nobody, a no one at all, Which is why he thought it nice to take a large fall... So they'd know who he was, a real person now, One who could choose how he left his mark on the town. He thought death romantic and noble and right, He thought it each day, morning, noon, and night. What Thomas O'Reilly didn't know was, however, When you're dead, you don't know if you were thought clever Or nice or smart or worthy of greatness; All you know is your version of your own self-hateness. The greatness is in you, hiding somewhere, It has a small voice, because like you, it is scared. But if you find it's location, it is sure to come out, Then loving it will make it scream and shout. So don't be like Thomas, and live for today; Find out what it is that makes you okay, Try something, everything, anything new, There's a greatness in everyone, yes, EVEN YOU!
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
Thomas O'Reilly
Thinking of the canvas clouds, How they shield my eyes from the sun's sharp dagger; And turn their backs against the windy stagger. It's as if I were boat on wind-swept seas, Tilting with the tide, Listing from side to side. And my canvas clouds are there, Holding me upright so I do not fall, They love me, without a word at all.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Sailing
I have a best friend He's not like any other His hair is Red White His nose is Red Big His eyes are Amber Fire Where he once was Stoic, Now he's Silly Once was Guarded Now is Guarding Once was Careful Now is Carefree Once was Stressed Now is Strong Always patient Always forgiving Always trusting Always kind at heart My best friend.
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
My best friend
I am a Queen Cut from paper Folded however you want me; The creases show your wavering. I am a Queen Colored in gold Left blank my heart for you; Which you forgot to draw. I am a Queen Who could blow with any breeze; Glue my feet to wood So that I can never leave you. I am a Queen In a wax palace Which melts with your touch; But your flame can destroy me. I am a Queen Giving Paper Orders To Paper People who know of no better; Who you place before me. I am a Queen Sitting on my throne of cardboard, Reigning over all; Except you who manipulates me. I am a Queen Only two-dimensional, But just as malleable As you would like me to be.
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
Queen
Winter is a time for just God and me. When others complain of the snow, God reminds me that he made the snow just for me: Pure. White. Innocence. Rebirth. The silence of a cold winter day - the silence is for me, one who hates noise. The blowing wind is God's proclamation that He loves me; I can feel it down to my Hair billowing, down to my Bones. It sends Chills up my spine. Do You remember when I was 10 years old and I took my Hat off in the wind just so I could feel you, and I lay in Your Snow arms for hours, listening to the Deer rustling through the dead trees? The clouds turned silver as the sun sank in the hazy sky, but still I couldn't go inside; didn't want to end Our time. Even now, when the slush melts to puddles and the air begins to feel warm, I find I can't wait for Snow again.
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
My Secret