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I saw an old couple today holding hands

and smiled.
I loved the way they still craved one anothers touch, it made me smile
it
takes
a lot of
desperation
dissatisfaction
and
disillusion
to
write
a
few
good
poems.
it's not
for
everybody
either to
write
it
or even to
read
it.
i found what i love

and he is slowly killing me

he is the cigarette

between my lips

stealing away my

breath (and my soul)

with each hit i take

but i love the buzz

even as i dwindle

to little more

than a puff

of

smoke
the higher you climb
the greater the pressure.

those who manage to
endure
learn
that the distance
between the
top and the
bottom
is
obscenely
great.

and those who
succeed
know
this secret:
there isn't
one.
We are like roses that have never bothered to
bloom when we should have bloomed and
it is as if
the sun has become disgusted with
waiting
 Jan 2015 Alexis Danielle
-
White and icy wings
Black coal hearts
Coming down like an ash flake
Just like falling down

Fallen by angles grace
Found in by touch
I did this so I could have pain

Little angel up, up high
Time for a death lullaby
For the hour of sleep
Couldn't bare with secrets you could not keep

Little angel has fallen down
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