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Ofetn,
I spel wordz,
Awefully wong.
This one goes out to all the typos I've ever made. Some stayed that way.
Cars
Are
Where
All
The
Bad
Things
Are
Brought
To
Light

Always
So­mething
Life-changing
To say

Always
End
Up
Crying

I
Fear
Stepping
Into
Cars
Now

I
Can't­
Leave
Them
Going fishing in my drafts

"I need to talk to you about something"

(This note was written by the key to your couches brain)
So, this isn't really a poem,
More of just a post.
I'm looking for 300 poets,
New or old,
To write a line.
For a 300 poet poem.
I have one so far,
I'm in need of 299 more.
I don't know if people read my edits to these, but I just wanted to you you all know, you're in such harmony with fellow poets, you're rhyming. :)
Also, feel free to submit more than one line!
I think it'd be a cool thing to try out. Let me know if you guys are interested.
If you would like to participate, write up a line for the poem and email it to me at hardisonabbott@gmail.com. Make sure to include your name or pen name in the email that way I can credit you. I will arrange the lines in a way that makes sense to read.
Thanks guys.
Name of the poem is pending if you guys have ideas let me know, please forward this to anyone who you'd think would be interested, I want to make this a real thing.
It’s not the big things—
not the promotion,
not the breakup,
not the years that pile on like
books you’ll never read.

It’s the small ones.

The way coffee tastes different
when you drink it alone.
The moment you realize the sound
of your own laugh feels foreign.

A dog barking two blocks down.
The scent of someone’s cologne in the wind,
and how it doesn’t belong to anyone you know.

Life collects itself in little drops,
small enough to ignore
until you’re drowning.
He said:
„Life is a coin,
  one side sorrow
  the other hope.“
Then he flipped it.
It never came down.
i think
i just felt
the last part
of my brittle heart
break
i think
i may be alone
forever
and i dont
know how to feel
about it
If you lose a poem,
Just the paper you wrote it on.
You haven't lost the poem at all.
So I found this notebook a couple months ago that I had been looking for for a few years. It had all the poems I wrote in the 6th grade. But when I opened it to read them, I was shocked to find out in time I had rewritten them all.
I woke to find
Everything packed away—
Carpets rolled up,
Bare floorboards
Revealed for the first time.

No one around,
My footsteps made
A strange
Sound

Then Gran came in.
"Your mummy and daddy
Aren't getting along."
This truth,
I learned too late,
Kept from me
Until this morning.

A day my mind
Will never forget,
A secret now
Unfolded.

We traveled to the new town,
My face
Wore
A
Frown.

The door slammed shut
Too quickly,
A bad case
Of homesickness.
What was severed
Now crystallized.

Now,
I never fail
To remember
Every
Detail.
Red
Someone forgot the pearl necklace today
I remember seeing a red and white skirt
the sound of the wind was strong
a floral set of earrings
As the camera rolled
a pause stood in the air
there wasn't a single cloud in the sky
the black blouse was transparent
the red on the mustang
reflected your sunshine face.
this poem
is like watching you
over and over again
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