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 Oct 2015 Secret Poet
Ash
And I think that if you were anyone else I would ask you to come over tonight.
And if you were anyone else you would come over tonight.
 Sep 2015 Secret Poet
ThePoet
Mentally
insane,
psychologically
distorted
I'm physically
in pain,
and I'm
emotionally
contorted

©
 Sep 2015 Secret Poet
L
Untitled
 Sep 2015 Secret Poet
L
I am remembering
But God, do I wish I could forget.
I let numbness wash over me
Again
And again
And again
Because being numb is so much better than feeling a **** thing.
#numb #nomorefeelings #pain
You're beautiful in a way that makes other people want to look like you.
You're beautiful in a way that makes men, better yet women fall in love with you.

You have that kind of beauty that makes people stop on their tracks just to make sure they have your image engraved in their minds for awhile.

Your beauty makes someone's tears dry,
Your beauty makes the sun come up in a person's life,
Your beauty waters the seed that's in people's hearts, helping it grow into a flower.


Even this, your  beauty does have it's flaws.
Your beauty is clumsy,
Your beauty is confused,
Your beauty overflows its mind with thoughts of sadness and heart with sorrow

Beyond your low self-esteem,You're beautiful in so many ways.
Be it physical or not,
You're beautiful in ways that I cannot explain,
In ways that I never knew before.
You're beautiful in ways that you, yourself don't understand.

I can assure you, that you are beautiful.
And not anyone or even you can tell me otherwise.
 Sep 2015 Secret Poet
Purple Rain
I'm locked
Surround by chains
that lock me down,
Surround by pain
that destroys my name

I'm locked
No woman nor man
could ever wish for this
I'm drowning in hopelessness
If there was a way
to release this curse
I wouldn't have to suffer by
going through the worst
I wouldn't shred a single tear,
My body wouldn't ake
And I wouldn't be taken back
by my mistakes

Im locked
Destroyed by the life that is my own,
To the devil it feels as if I'm sold,
Every day gets dimmer
my life gets darker,
To God I am just his stocker

I'm locked
If I were to be given a second chance,
only then would my vocabulary
not be filled with I can't
Only then would I not count the minutes
Or count everyday life
as the witching hour
I wouldn't cower in the corner
Or write down death dates in my calendar
Like I used too

No
I would get a new chance at life
I wouldn't die by my own hand
And wouldn't say it was just a knife
This is a poem I made about my everyday life
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