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There lived a man, a crooked man
Who bore his life upon his back
It took a toll and weighed him down
As he trudged along the track

He'd resigned to his fate as the day grew late
Ignoring his unwelcomed guest
He had spoken no words as he continued on
Till he decided to stop and rest

But his health was failing and his feet were aching
His destination no one could know
He crumbled to his knees in the setting sun
As daylight lost its glow

He knew that dusk was skirting so near
He knew that night would come to shroud
And soon he would be overwhelmed
By shadows that would come to crowd

He curled into his lanky self
He cowered in shame and fear
For all the things he tried to leave behind
Crouched now in the dark so near

He trembled and quivered
No one could hear him cry
He whimpered and grovelled
Knowing that there was where he'd die

Know this man, the crooked man
Who then had given up on hope
He shivered and sobbed knowing full well
That he'd reached the end of his rope
Part 3 of 6
Grey reminds no added age hums
Our maturity with young ones
Nothing is in colour of hair
Reverence be your wear
Neither Black nay grey, let us join
Nevermore to become a stray
Shooting stars sweep across the night sky.
You seem so fascinated by the stars
she whispered.
I think they are more fascinated by me.
I answered
I once thought stars were made
of magic and could grant the wishes of lovers
here on earth.
But they are not
All they are made of is broken wishes
and sad promises.
Wishes never granted regardless
of all the love in my heart
Which is your favorite star she asked?
i point to the brightest star in the heavens
"that one the brightest star in the night sky."
it is full of all my unanswered wishes
They are all about you.
Doesn't that make you a star.
",,  :  '
,  ° .. '' , °..
. ;   . ." ,, ° '',, .  - ,,
because dust motes appear
in the light
means they are also
in

darkness


SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/24/2016
an observation about
light, consciousness
and the
subconscious

°
I told her I'd never fallen in love
with an alien before

She gave me an odd glance

And then I told her she was out of this world

She chuckled and smiled

And at that moment
it became evident

*Her lips don't even have to touch mine for me to get lost in them
Ink
Scratching for quite some time
on this blank white page,
my emotions flow
shine and glow
till the emptiness
imbibes my thoughts
like raindrops after a **drought.
I love fountain ink pens :)
Imaginary butterflies that danced around my head in a halo,
Flowers and twigs and leaves
That stuck out of my hair
And little kisses from the sun
That people called freckles.

Hands that were powerful enough
To open doors that turned into portals.

Eyes that saw fairies and magical things.

Ears that heard talking trees.

I was a kid
Idealistic and dreamy as could be.

Then I grew up
And somehow the stars were dimmer.
Summer didn't smell like adventure
And winters snow was just ice
And no longer glitter.

Swings didn't make me fly
And slides weren't a dragons tail.
I was just a girl that believed in things that weren't ever real.
With a heart that beats still,
Wishing to believe that it'd all come true
But more than anything
I just wish that sometimes
I could age back.
Maybe only for a little while
Maybe forever.
Just wish I hadn't thrown my imagination down the hatch.
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