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Charlie Hudson May 2015
Hello.
One word.
Two syllables.

A knife through the air of silence.
An enemy of loneliness.
The word itself could bring hope to the hopless.
A smile to the smileless.
A friend to the friendless.

Hello.
A simple word could lead to million things,
it can bring you joy,
love,
heartbreak,
but it could also make you fall
                                                   *a

                                                       p
                                                          *­
a
                                                            ­r

                                                            ­   t

Rip you to shreds.
Tear your heart out.
Leave tears streaming down your face.
For hello is a undecided thing;
Nor friend or enemy.

It's just hello.

A word,
the beginning of a story.
Charlie Hudson May 2015
The sun wept for the moon,
but the moon did all but try.
And come every noon,
the sun would die.

Her light burning out,
like a candle.
but the moon would glout,
for him to mishandle
such a beauty was a sight
for sore eyes.

The clouds would cover her light
but her cries,
could never be heard above her madness.
Her face contorted,
her eyes pools of vastness.

— The End —