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  Apr 2017 ashley m
Dhaye Margaux
I am the girl in this forest but you can't see me as human
You are used to call me a different cognomen
I have been trying so hard just to make you see
But you still find a dark and scary creature in me

Those dead bodies buried six feet below the ground
I hear their souls calling,  I hear the gloomy sound
Into your cruel minds,  I was the criminal
You cleave into my name the darkest pin of betrayal

I wonder why you always see me as a dark creature
And you only look at my color as my valid nature
Look at the moon that shines brightly over me
She wants to show who I am and yet you cannot see

I am the girl in this forest, I am a human like you
It is your mind,  it is your eyes that don't see what is true
Your mind thinks all the darkness,  your eyes  see what's skin deep
You paint in me an image that will make me mourn and weep

I'm just a girl in this forest who cease myself to live as free
For no matter what I do, a scary crow is what you see.
Beauty is in the eye of beholder.
In this cruel world, the critical society is a painter.

Cognomen: any name,  especially a nickname
  Apr 2017 ashley m
Discordia Huevo
You are my ocean,
Full of life and patience,
From all the fishes in the sea,
You are the one that feeds me.

You are my mountain,
Sturdier than any craven,
From above you watched over me,
Keeping me safe from my killing spree.

You are my sky,
Your vast kindness covers the azure high,
Soaring through the air with your white wings,
Healing and nurturing every of my being.

You are my inferno,
Your voice gives me courage for the morrow,
Burning passion fills your eyes,
Chasing after your dreams for miles.

You are my friend,
Always by my side till the end,
I won't like to see you alone,
So lets bump fists our friendship do regrow.
A poem dedicated to whom I admire.
  Apr 2017 ashley m
Lunar
some things are not meant to be returned
be it a library’s borrowed book
or hands that cannot hold ours and leave us cold

because we need those things
as reminders of the people
who once borrowed or took what belongs to us

and in our story

i know why i remember you so well:
it is my warmth which you borrowed
and my heart that you took
i thought of a friend who hasnt returned my lang leav book.
and i thought of you who has neither returned my heart nor given yours in exchange, wjh
  Apr 2017 ashley m
Lunar
I loved too much
wishing I'm the key
of the happiness
that he goes out to seek

I loved too much
but I'm still too weak
to be the writer
I want him to read

I loved too much
too much of he
who didn't even know
of the love that grew inside of me

I love too much
too much to see
the reality
of impossibility
ashley m Mar 2017
midst the tender flowers
           of patient minds, of conventional
                          fragrance of youthful bloom  

a desolate soul wars oft weeps,
           ragged currents down kissing wounds

in due course shuffled off its mortal coil
           in quest of her own amour
ashley m Oct 2015
?
a mind full of questions
navigates future's direction
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