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Nothing is perfect
The sun won't always shine
Not every poem will rhyme
You won't turn water into wine
But it will all make sense at the right time
Icicle heart

I can't tell if it's cold outside
Or
I'm froze inside.
Icicle heart,
melts to raise the sea levels,
Then we drown in tears,
defeated by fears,
we see Devils,
The water is clear,
but crimson cold.
Your
cool calm and collected,
so level headed,
After all this years,
It's the apathy you feel
that makes fools of us.
Now there's swimming pools of regrets,
when
Icicles melt.
A cologne of shame,
pungent in the air,
carried by breath,
to pollenate the common class,
this
Icicle heart,
can never last
at least without
changing state
as
the landscape moves like a bad mood,
but the worst has passed,
and we backtrack.

Scrap that,

Take me back to the start,
Dinosaurs,
reptilian nature,
evolutions mistake,
Are you down for me and
My icicle heart,
melts into the stream,
and down the river it seems
an estuary divides us,
as we reach the sea,
impeach beliefs,
and the buoyant
keeps
my
icicle heart,
afloat,

I hope you feel me.

and
however it may seem,
you were nothing less
than a  dream,
nothing more than a
drop in the ocean to me,
and
my
cold cold icicle heart.
Ben Howard influenced.
I will always be the slippery *****
               they warn you not to go down
         I am the clutter in your closet
                           they ask you to clean out
                Forever the reason you look
                              both ways before crossing

They say I am not right for you
         But I want to be your happiness
              The world sees me rotten
                         I wish for you to help me
                  Paint the world with color
                        So we may prove them wrong
Shared on Hello Poetry on March 7, 2016
Copywrite under Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved

Yada yada yada
 Mar 2016 The Winter Jester
m i a
lonely nights,
verbal fights,
no more flying kites,
blind to imaginary knights,
losing sight of light,
this doesnt seem right,
life is no longer a delight,
reality woke me up today telling me, "get the **** up, you're not a kid anymore." which was oh so lovely.
I'm just a rose growing from a pile of dirt
I'm still budding, you haven't seen the beautiful part of me.
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