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Chloe Hunt Aug 2018
Create a picture
Try to not let it burn

“Love covers a multitude of sins”
An amended return

Good vs evil ?
The impurity of love

Wrong vs right ?
The question unending from up above

A tunnel of flowers that were meant to grow

A night full of fireflies that were meant to glow

LOVE
A confusing theater in the round

Pure hate of what has been taken

The meaning of love has been tilted and spun     A
                   D     R
                 N         O
                       U
We have all been through relationships where we ask ourselves, is this right? Are we together at the wrong time? Is this what love is? After a while you forget what love is suppose to be and how great it is suppose to feel.
  Aug 2018 Chloe Hunt
Cynthia
"ADULTS. ARE. IDIOTS!"
Oh, did I strike a nerve?
Well, "sorry!", I guess.
I'll turn around, take a curve.

But wait, did you think
That we would stand by?
Well... You. Are. Wrong.
you aren't always right.

Is this what you think?
That your opinions are true?
Never taking the blame
For all the wrongs that you do.

You think you are everything.
You are mighty, in your eyes
You think you rule the world
And you see us as mice.

But you never take action,
Shunning those who do!
You create all these problems.
And leave us to solve them for you.

You fit us in a box,
And tie us with ropes,
You show us your desired future
And tell us they're our hopes.

Well guess what, adults
We can think too.
And when you see us fly,
You'll know what we can do.

We will all fight together.
And we will see you leave.
Mark my words dear adults,
We're not as simple, as you want us to be.
An important note to take is that "Adults" is only used to address the irresponsible, pride-filled grownups of our generation who are also very close minded. It is absolutely NOT addressing matured people who actually care about others. (Sorry if this poem offended you. But if you're a nice person, this is NOT addressed to you as I mentioned before but I gotta make this clear)
  Aug 2018 Chloe Hunt
Orange Rose
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
Chloe Hunt Jul 2018
I stopped writing
I stopped writing when my heart stopped beating
You left with so many unanswered questions
You left me here without you
Packed a bag and left
Left our memories
Left the feeling of our souls touching
You left me
And I left my heart on that road where you said goodbye
Chloe Hunt Jun 2018
I know this moment isn’t going to last
soon these words will become apart of the past
So play with my hair as if you had the whole world in your hands
Kiss my neck as if this tan was  forever
As if the summer didn’t feel like it would end tomorrow
Tell me you love me as if it was a love that would never end
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