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ForgottenRhymes Jan 2019
As I lay there, beneath the stars and the moonlit sky, chasing after my train of thought.

I wonder, do others think as I?

Have your thoughts ever drifted off to where the stars go at night?  Or maybe contemplated your life on a different planet? Or perhaps imagined what it would be like if time stood still just for a day.

I wonder, are there others who share the same thoughts as I?

Have you thought of riding the waves or hugging a tree? Have you thought of swaying your hips to beat of a gypsie's drum? Or imagined marching towards a sunrise?

I wonder, have you ever thought like me?

Have you turned pages of Plato's philosophies seeking truth? Or imagined what the world would be like if we were united? Have you contemplated Earth's greatest mysteries?

I wonder, do you think like me?

Do you wake up believing in as many as 6 impossible things before breakfast?
ForgottenRhymes Oct 2018
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Tell me the tale of she who was crowned
The fairest of them all,

Were her eyes blue, brown or green?
Was she blonde or brunette?
Was she slender or athletic?

Tell me mirror what made her fair
So that maybe I may be fair as well.
Tell me the tale of the fairest of them all,

Was it her glowing skin?
Was it her heart shaped lips?
Was it her pearly white smile?

Tell me mirror what made her fair?
So that maybe I may be fair as well.
Tell me what does she possess that I do not.

"What defines beauty, cannot be seen or touched for true beauty is only felt"
Was all the mirror replied.
No tale was spun and no answers were spoken.
We look for beauty in the most materialistic ways never understanding what it the word really means.
ForgottenRhymes Sep 2018
The words I lace together, beat to the sound of a melody only a few would understand.
To many they make no sense, a waste of perfectly good words.
But that is the beauty of my artform.
It defies all laws of structure and logic, demanding one of its own.
A secret language only the mad would comprehend and the sane try to decipher.
ForgottenRhymes Sep 2018
Tell me not how the sun sets,
Tell me how he rises,
Tell ne not how a flower dies,
Tell me how she blossoms,
Tell me not where the stars disappear,
Tell me how dance alongside the moon,
Tell me not how the moon changes,
Tell me how each night she finds the courage to outshine the darkness,
Tell me not how they died,
But how they lived.
ForgottenRhymes Jul 2018
She chose the light,
Chose to be seen.
But lately all others seem to do is look
And all fail to see.

They have failed to
See the shadow
Behind her smile
The sorrowful cry
Behind her laughter
The empty void  
Behind her eyes

Her heart is composed of fragments
Barely holding its self together
She has given her self
Away for all to admire
For all to judge.
And now she is left with nothing
But a shadow mirror of who she used to be.

You see.
They all look
And all fail to see.
She chose the light
Yet she lives in the dark.
ForgottenRhymes Jun 2018
How to describe this feeling ?
What name does it go by?
Does it even have a name?

The answers to my questions
Remain unanswered
But with absolute certainty I can tell you this

I never want to let this feeling go
I'm on this insane rollercoaster of happiness
And I never want to not have this feeling

Cloud 9 seems like childs play
Sky high is where I'm at
It's like being in love only a thousand times better

The sun and the stars are all in one frame
Both shining at their brightest
Someone tell me what this feeling is !

I take that back.
No one tell me.
No one utter a word.

For if I was to categorise this feeling
It would be sure to escape me
No one tell me.

Let me drown in this moment
In this feeling that is like no other
Allow me this one pleasure.

No need to name the feeling.
Just watch on by as I sink in it.
Grant me this one request.
ForgottenRhymes Jun 2018
She sings a broken tune,
An old song that many know.
A song of loss, pain and death,
Many don't understand her.
They don't understand,
The long low sway
Of her black soul.

She sings to forget,
The father she lost,
The brother who has abandoned her,
The sister who knows despises her
And the mother who knows no love.
She sings to forget.

She now understand,
Why every morning,
At first light the black bird
Sings her tune.
For nothing is worse than remembering pain.
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