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Dobby's ideas,

Are more of a glitch.

Flesh memories,

Buried in a snitch.

Life is tough,

And such a heavy fight.

When dark times encircle you,

Remember to Turn on the light.

Weasley twins are strong,

More like human beaters

The world is not divided

Into good people and death eaters.

For in dreams,

We enter a world entirely our own.

Turn to page number

Three hundred and ninety four.

Dumbledore smiled,

Everyone has bad days.

Snape replied,

Always.

The people we love,

Leave us never.

The stories we love best,

Do live in us forever.

Cause the books we truly love,

Right back, they love us.

Draco, Dormiens,

Nunquam, Tittilandus.
For all my fellow Potterheads!
 Dec 2014 Rex Forté
Nathan Cross
I've kept my demons,
In close proximity.
Because, let's be honest,
They're never far away.
I do what I must,
To keep them at bay.
Their constant urge.
The world turns,
From vibrant to gray.

**-N.C.
 Dec 2014 Rex Forté
WickedHope
Some          times
I    want    to    kiss    you
as   much   as   I   want   to   knock
your        teeth        out,
darling.
Supposed to be in the shape of lips. Whatever.
You infuriating intoxication.
 Dec 2014 Rex Forté
Just Melz
He didn't, and that was that.

There's no going back and erasing the past.

Life's too short not to forgive and forget.

Sometimes, there's just no time to justify where everything went wrong.

Time is a battle, a war you won't win, but you gotta push along.

Keep moving forward, you can't change the past or make it come back.

He didn't, she didn't, they didn't. It's time to accept and be okay with that.
The daily for December 6th, by Sean Critchfield titled "Poem By Chance" (check it out, it's amazing), was an exercise using the seventh book on the shelf, the seventh line on the seventh page as the first line, and only seven lines. I hope I did it right.
How's it that you hear
Teardrops rolling down my cheeks
But not when I scream?
Glassy eyes scream louder than raw lungs
Oh, you hurt my friend?
Tsk, it would be a shame if you died.

...you may mysteriously disappear.
YOU WILL MISS YOUR LIMBS WHEN THEY ARE GONE IF YOU HARM MY FRIENDS! :D
Let's break all the tension with the pretense of my presence.
Yes, I'm insensitive--but there's no other incentive others can give--
And while I'm not sure I could prevent it, I swear to no god I'm inventive!

Yes,
My hatred is incessant--ever present--and it's what I hold most sacred.
I'm a naughty narcissist with a nasty list of wasted kisses,
And I won't say that I'll miss 'em, 'cuz I'm the type who never misses.

I'm a hopeless romantic with a new sense of Tantric hope,
It's the antics of a frantic mind, but I'm too calm to cope.
They say I'm a raving, violent--rarely silent--tyrant with a craving
for the obscene,
Though, while I'm mean, I'm rarely seen within a mob or in a scene.

I'll admit I've got a streak, but--if you'd stop to take a peek--
You'd see a Buddhist, not a nudist, who's less a demon than a geek.
I'm oblique and I'm obtuse (do these math puns work for you?) yet I'm rarely never right;
Get my angle? Catch my drift? I might thrash, but, man, I'm thrift!
Hold on shift: I'M SCREAMING NOW!!
Don't know why; don't have a cow!
Remember that? That 90's rap? Look at me then; that piece of crap!
Shot down! Torn up! Shut in! Turned out!
Lips are sealed; inside I'd shout,
'Bout just how bad I wanted out!
Enraged and crazed; cravin' razors; a victim hiding from all saviors!
Turned to the pen to brace for the knife,
Started writin' and saved my life.
It's funny to say my life got better the day I started a suicide letter...

But letters turned to words and those words became whole worlds,
And before my very eyes a whole legacy unfurled!
I was GOD--not just a slob--but a shaper of all things,
And the schemes that I'd been dreaming shifted into scribing,
And I never stopped since then; it's why I'm still alive!

So my insanity became vanity as calamity turned to amity.
Sheer pessimism became untamed narcissism,
But if the mind's a prison then consider me jail broken.
Outspoken, re-awoken; take a moment to let that soak in.
That a boy doubtful of tomorrow could ditch the sorrow,
And become an immortal--though immoral, not totally amoral.

So yea, I've got my faults; I'm a sensory assault,
And while I don't mean to offend I'm just a product of the ends.
Played with fire; I got burned.
Dared to aspire; I was turned.
So I inquire to you sires as I march out of the fires:
You've seen my darkness and know my story--beginning, middle, end--
My name is Nathan Squiers, do you wanna be my friend?
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