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Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
Don't worry,
Be happy.
Always stay strong!
Hang in there baby,
Keep holding on.


Never let go.
I'll never put anything above you!
I want you to know,
I will always love you.
Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
I've never felt more alone
In a room full of people,
The pain is worse
Than the pierce of a needle.

No one here knows
The sadness I feel,
****,
Even I sometimes wonder
If it's even real.

Every moment,
Every hour,
Every week,
Of every year,
My head head is filled with worry
While my cheeks are stained with tears.

There isn't a day,
Where I don't cry,
As I wonder,
Why?
Why do I uave to feel this way
Inside?

Why don't others
Have this emptiness within?
Does anyone else
Ever want to let it win?

To just be gone forever,
And be absent from the beauty of violence,
To just give in,
And live in a world of silence.
Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
Birth,
Struggle,
Self-resentment,
Death.

No retakes,
No do-overs,
No second chances.

We either try our best,
Or do our worst.
As long as we leave a legacy,
We don't care.

And that's the problem.
We want everyone to remember us.
And for what?
At some point,
There will be no one left to remeber.

Someday the earth will be silent,
the city streets
vacant,
The pastures,
Empty.

Quite frankly,
I don't see the reason fot it all.
We spend our entire lives
Trying to ptove to strangers,
That we are worth remembering.

You're family remembering you,
That's one thing.
An entire planet of other people
You've never met a day in your life,
And every generation after,
Is something else entirely.

Let's be honest,
Everyone has had an,
"I'm going to do my worst"  moment,
In hopes of gaining even a second
In ths spotlight.

And why?
So a bunch of people,
Who in ten years,
won't even remember you ever existed,
Can notice you?

Someone please,
Explain to me the purpose of a legacy.
Explain why it's important strangers know you existed.

Explain to me,
Why life is an endless cycle of nothingness,
Of birth,
Struggle,
Self-resentment,
And Death.
Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
Fate.
Who believes,
In the idea
Of fate?

Who believes,
That at some point
Our free will was stripped of us,
Or did we ever have it at all?

What if,
When God created everything, he said
"Let them believe they have choice!
Let them think their will is their own!


Allow them to assume they can
Think on their own,
Make decisions on their own,
Do anything on their own!
Their story has been prewritten.


You,
Fate,
Shall decide how everything goes."

And yet,
Some people aslo believe
In free will.
How?

How can you believe in free will,
The idea that we can live
However we choose,
But you also think
That our lives were planned out for us?
That we have no choice,
That everything is meant to happen?

Now I ask you this,
You reading this,
Was that Fate,
Or choice?
Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
In a world
Where color is non-existant
And people are long gone,
There is a man.

He may not be old,
But he is wise
For he saw the end of a world
Of chaos,
And the birth of an Era of silence.
He being the only exception.

For him very day is the same.
A walk along the beach,
Unable to enjoy the colors.
Intent staring at a box of crayons,
As he tries to distinguish a difference
Between violet and purple.

Color,
Like man,
Has been extinct for decades now.
And the world is submerged in a sea of
Black and white.
Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
Blood like fire,
Veins like ice
I've been around this bend
Once or twice.

I know how it is,
We both let go
We do what we can
To not let it show.

I'll cry for a day,
Maybe two or three
Wondering why
We couldn't be.

My feelings will be messy,
Jumbled,
Tossed,
In the end I will wander
Broken and lost.
Lillie Townsend Nov 2018
I stand in the middle of the room
Watching the whole world
Go round without me.

I wait for someone to notice
The eerie figure in the corner of the room
But no one does.

It is as if I am the looking glass,
and the hooded man is Alice.
He looks at me, but doesn't see me.
He sees through me.

As if I am invisible.
I scan my surroundings.
A waiter is coming towards me,
He holds a tray
Filled with chalices of liquid forgetfulness.

I reach for one,
But my hand glides right through the tray,
And the man walks through me.

I look down,
And there I see
A crimson stain
That extends the length of my gown.

I flick my gaze to the corner of the room,
But he is no longer waiting for me there,
He is right in front of me
Whispering words of comfort

As I  cross over
Into a higher world
Of gold and clouds.

— The End —