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  Jun 2015 The Broken Poet
Eiliv Advena
Many poems I read seem so sad
The poems fills your eyes with tears
This doesn't mean the poems are bad
But sometimes a poem should be filled with cheer

There is so much beauty to write about
Not just lost love, fears, screams and shouts

A poem can be about
Flowers or trees
A poem can be about
Crystal blue seas

A poem can be about
a ring of smoke
Or a beautiful girl
Or about the beauty
We find in this world
The Broken Poet Jun 2015
I saddle up my horse and imagine you doing the same
I go out to the creek where our names are forever carved into that oak tree
This is the spot where you said you've fallen in love with me
What has happened to that?
Should we have engraved our names a little more gravely?
I put my horse up in the stable
I climb into my Chevy and drive to our part of town
It is past midnight
My heart won't let you go
My body won't forget you
My soul will be forever engraved
With memories of you.
The Broken Poet Jun 2015
People like to treat my heart like sugar
No more than a grain that they throw away
Something that they can't get enough of
Some are in love
Some hate it
My heart is like a big ice cube
It once started whole
But with each play
My heart started to melt and disappear
My heart is like a glass vase
I am filled with roses
You break me and get cut by one of my thorns
You break me and you smell the sweet scent that was once me
My heart is like a bomb
You mess with me and I will go off
If you never touch me I will do you no harm
My heart is a hornet's nest
Poke me with a stick and I will sting you with no end
My heart is a honey suckle
Taste me and I will fill you with sweetness.
I have been begging you to stay here since you landed.
I have seen the hole you've kept hidden,
the sadness that you keep at bay in the daytime.

I have felt the nights devouring you,
Some nights the moon can't tame your sorry's,
when you are too tired  to exist here...
I understand the hardship of placing feet on ground when you wake,
and to not stop moving.
You are still unsure if you will be able to keep going if you pause too long.

No one knows you are lonely,
and sweetie you are far too lovely...
Share yourself with someone.
Give yourself over to being here, feeling something.
Pain and happiness are necessary to sharpen and soften the best parts of you.
The sun will not always rise for you,
but we can pretend.
I'd let you see the world however you want to
if you
stay here.

P.S. Thank you for staying here.
No one knows why, but the ones who love you sighed in relief when they knew you stayed to join the morning.
As did I.
As did I.

-Indigo Morrison
Thank to all who it is for who have chosen to stay here.
The Broken Poet Jun 2015
I am that type of girl
That will stay up late talking on the phone
Holding you until your body stops trembling
If you were to punch me I'd grab you and ask if you were okay
If I were starving and you said you just wanted my food
I'd give it to you and watch you chew it up happily
I would imagine it going through your system
And making your tummy smile
I'd listen to you ramble about your unhappy life
While flashes of my parent's fighting ran through my head
The curse words like penetrating echoes in my mind
I Am That Type Of Girl
That will smile while I dodge the murderous bullets
And watch you cry on your own parade
I have a heavy burden
But I've learned how to carry it
I just don't think about it
It's like an illusion
You can't feel what you don't see
But you like to feel what you don't see
That is why you are always complaining and under the bus
I Am That Type Of Girl
That likes to laugh without a reason
I will sit on the floor with you and hold you while you scream
Like an upchuck from the deep bowels within
I'll tell you everything is alright
When I blame myself for my parent's fighting
I tell you to not bear the cross
I'll bear it for you ontop of the world that I already bear
You don't believe in an afterlife
You can't see anything beyond dirt
I believe in Heaven
I see Angels dancing to the rainbow
You go around the world with your head bowed down
I keep my head held high
You settle for what comes your way
I make my own way
I Am That Type Of Girl
That will smile through anything
That will love your everything
I love with a passion
And hate in vain
Yes, I Am That Type Of Girl.
The Broken Poet Jun 2015
There are so many things that can never be resolved
Where you can never be the same person
Where once hell seemed to be down below
But now you are in the front lines
The devil doesnt wear a turban
The devil isn't American
The devil isn't Muslim
The devil isn't an Atheist
The devil isn't Christian
The devil is war
No one is for the war
But the war is the only way for our freedom
I will not live to see the day
When 'Ole Glory stops flying
This is treason
This is the war
The war is ugly
The war is murderous
The war is hell
The war is haunting
The war is deadly
But freedom is beautiful
We have the strongest weapon; Jesus
The ones that die, live to see his face
The ones that live, die to see his face
The war is many things
It is frightening
It is hell raised
It is hell bound
One does not fight because he loves the war
But because she loves her freedom
Because they both love their country
Without the war
We wouldn't be free
Without the war
We wouldn't be dead
The war will change a man
Into an abusive alcoholic
The war will change a man
Into a peace loving Christian
The war is ugly
The war is deadly
The war is adventurous
The war is loving
The war is the war
Support our troops.
God bless our troops.
The Broken Poet Jun 2015
His hair is curled at the back of his ball cap
Though he tries to hide his eyes
I can still see the smile contained within them
His eyes are a piercing green
That see right through me
His eyelashes are long and thick
Though I can still see those beautifully pained eyes
He is a walking, aching dream
Just a hand away
Oh, curly haired boy
When will you be mine?
I just want to get my hands tangled up in that hair
To feel the little escaping curls
Trying to come out from under his ball cap
I want to lose myself in those emerald eyes
Worth more than diamonds to me
I want to know every secret that lies behind his heart
I want to know his future
And maybe if I am lucky to be a part of it
Oh, curly haired boy
You will only ever exist in a poem
But in every single poem you are mine
You are just a kiss away
An arm away
A curl away
Oh, curly haired boy.
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