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We
       Are
All
           But
    *Energy

            In
    A
                    Nicely
Wrapped
                     **Package
Short one for my 1000th poem in a year
He was running on air
Jumping on constellations
He's like Peter Pan
Only this Peter is tall and growing
He reached out his hand 
And asked her to dance
She wondered why she didn't decline
Strangers that could fly caught her eye

She felt his warm fingers 
Their fingers clenched 
As he held her hand tightly
They flew above the skies
She felt so alive 
Her agonies that she suffered
Gone like it was never there

He suddenly grabbed something
She wondered what it could be
He opened his gentle hands
And the brightest little star glows
Like the northern lights in the vast skies
Like fireworks exploding in a snowglobe

She touched it & she fell
Awoke and disappointed
Her dream didn't last till the end
The boy whose name was not Peter
Might be back in neverland
And the Little Star now vanished
**Only fragments of dreams
That will never cease to exist
I freaking love Peter Pan ever since I was young. I'd always wanted to be like him. I cried when I didn't get the part as Peter in a musical.hha I really wanted to be like him. Not a heartbreaker like him, but to never ever grow up and live in adrventures! So this is my interpretation of him I wrote in a poem:)
Got inspired by one of my friends here.
Orked Saerah. Gave me an idea and inspiration to write this piece.
Not my best work. But I love this one.
Hello, my name is Reggae Reggie, and this is my confession.

I am a Reggae mon. My life is Reggae.
I love being a boombastic island boy, slouchin', couchin', and enjoyin' a splif of Reggae love.
I spend most of my time in my home, listenin' to dank Reggae.
Reggae always calmed my mind, until it told me to **** her.
I never would've don it, but sometin' changed.

Reggae

Reggae told me she was a Reggae sham.
Listenin' to screamo on the down low.
That ****. What a freak.

Reggae

I was mindin' my own business, lightin' that sweet, sweet Reggae ******,
Next thing I know, my hands are around her neck.
She begs for Reggae mercy.

Reggae

Next ting I know, I'm in my Reggae basement, blood pourin' all over me.
From her lifeless Reggae body.
The smell of a dank mornin' fills my house.
I love it.

Reggae

I snap out of it.
Realize what went down, downtown.
It wasn't me. It was Reggae.

**Reggae Made Me Do It.
The confession of a true Reggae lover
Bury me softly
In this womb

As I give
This part of me to you

Holding dead flowers
Within this tomb

Down in a hole
I don't know if I can be saved

Was I born to die
Could I have been ******

Out of control
I just want to fly

But my feelings are free
So let me be

Just let me die
So I can sleep

So I can be free

OVERCOME

Life or Death
Thanksgiving's for me
Cracks in my emotional armor
Chemical imbalance of the brain
Wounds to deep to deal with
Straight jacket for Christmas

Oh ya, good food!
not behind everything is my hand
not everything even I understand
I try to craft from chaos some order
leave some unfinished some on the border.

my home though cosmos I reside within
without being choosy about skin and sin
the good and the bad I have to take along
like I take in my stride all right and wrong.

if you have faith I make some sense
to the faithless I'm just nonsense
so made I'm no grudge can harbor
satan and angel find my favor.

I feel burdened when see the mankind
finding in everything my hidden hand
not realizing if only I had a magic wand
would have made this world an unblemished land.
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