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 Sep 2019 Dagen Kipling
Merinda
It's sunday morning
Doing nothing is kinda boring
Pouring rhymes inside my brain
Writing line from the pain
Feeling ache through my vein
 Sep 2019 Dagen Kipling
dabble
We both loved him
He made her his wife
And made me a poet
cherry red lipstick sips
at the glass of bubbly moscato,
while sitting on the terrace
of her home in Venice,
in a pink silk robe with
black lingerie underneath

feeling the hot mediterranean
sun on her olive skin made her
feel alive, as the day went on
she reads poetry while still
pouring herself another
glass of wine
every now and again,

as the sun
begins to set, she sees her favorite
thing; la luna, the moon. she’s fascinated
by the stars and the moon of the night sky
she writes her own poetry wishing she was
apart of the night sky

Buonanotte amore mio
she whispers to the moon
every night before heading to sleep
I wish I were in Italy right now
Golden soul
worth tons of gold,
cristaled eyes
filled with hope.

The love you brought,
has fullfilled this home
of pure innocence,
and unforgettable joy.
i told you
to be happy
even if thats not with me
i told you
you deserve the best
even if thats not me
i told you
i love you more
and i guess i was right
//if she makes you that happy, go get her, darling.\\ ill never forget the poetry i wrote for you; ill never forget how your curls felt; ill never forget your lips on mine; ill never forget the color of your eyes. thanks for loving me while you could,, i know its draining. this is for you, e.❤️
Can you please stop it?
Your love is too much for me.
It just ruins me.
 Jun 2018 Dagen Kipling
Kayla
Look me in the eyes
Tell me you didn't
That you did not love
That you never loved me
Look me in the eyes
And give me the stone cold truth
Look me in the eyes
Fuzzy orb so small and sweet
      Plump succubus plucked by hand
      Orange pink and yellow treat
      To fulfill a hungers toothsome demand  
                          
Demeter's gift, O' how ripe
      Put the flesh between my teeth
      Ears delighted with phoebe's pipe
      Lounged lazily listening in edens wreath

Juice streaming down my face
       Junes comfort, worth more than gold
       Sleep coming to make its dreamy embrace
       Hammock sway, as I slowly cross the threshold
Nothing like laying in the hammock, book in hand with a sweet treat, letting mothers poets drift you off to a slumber.
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