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I was so young,
I thought I knew it all.
But it wasn't long,
Before I found out I was wrong.

I did what I wanted without a doubt,
They say actions are louder than words.
And my actions were definitely loud.
I was determined to stand out in the crowd.

When I was younger I thought I ruled the land.
I wouldn't give a dime to be in those days again.
The town was small, but I lived large.
Life was my stage, and I was in charge.

I look at those days now and couldn't believe myself.
I took the yearbooks off the shelf.
Reminiscing my past friends and loves.
All the signatures in the pages.
I put them back when I had enough.

Sometimes I like to live in my past.
The great memories and the trouble I caused.
But you can't stay there,
You can't put life on pause.
Sometimes I like to live in my past.
Just sitting and remembering living young and dying fast.
listen closely my fellow
writers,
writing prose and putting in a
line break
every
so
often
is not poetry.
(c) noa harriott

guys i'm getting kinda tired of seeing poems like this let's all be more ~poetic~ k
no malice intended i love you all <3
I am becoming afraid of falling asleep
Well, not falling asleep,
but of the time in the dark immediately before
when I am haunted
by the things that aren't there.

But tonight, I had my first positive hallucination.
I saw pretty black wings
sprouting from my own back.
Soft,
like kitten fluff
of a newly fledged bird.
I wonder
I wonder

can I fly?
 Jul 2013 PoetWhoKnowIt
marina
during summer, we avoided the ocean
because it reminded us how
small we really are, and instead of singing
lullabies to drift away in waves of sleep,
we sang all night long to stay awake
for fear that if we let ourselves go, we'd have nothing
left to rise for by morning

(i never closed my eyes, but i had one
hell of a dream)
Today I stand
Today I write,
Lucky to be here today

Today I laugh
Today I cry,
Lucky to be here today

Today we ****
Today we fight,
Thinking we are unlucky

Today we suffer
Today we die,
Thinking we are unlucky

We ignore our cries
We ignore our pleads,
Thinking our luck will run out

We ignore tomorrow
We ignore the world,
Not knowing; our luck won't run out
it's hot -- really ******* hot
at nighttime, it's hard to sleep
what with my sweat-sticky skin

     but

you're gone for another
thirty seven?  thirty seven
days and nights

               so

i bury my face
in your sweatshirts
(they smell like you)
(c) noa harriott
 Jul 2013 PoetWhoKnowIt
Tori Hart
two pairs of lips quiver
millimeters apart
tasting the same air
sweat
and lost, forgotten whispers
gasps of ‘i love you’s
are planted along skins
like forget-me-nots
goosebumps germinate
under hair follicles
like freshly plotted seeds
waiting their moments
of glory to sprout
fingers lace
creating mazes of
lustful desire
and yearning for protection
comfort
and Love
sweat mixes
creating chemicals
mixing past hurt
and fears of vulnerability
gravity stops
it has done its job
because it is not the ground
that holds the scared Lovers
to Life now
it is their
Desperate, Tantalizing, Terrifying, Desiring
Love for each other
drabble (noun): a type of contemporary poem that consist of precisely 100 words, that can be about any subject
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