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You came back with rage again
You stupid, freaking, angry pen
I used to think that we were friends
But that seems to be coming to an end
You're an angry pen
A crazy pen
I don't like you one bit
You're a lazy pen
A stupid pen
A freaking baby nudist pen
And I Hate You
I want to write but you're too busy distracting me
With you're incorrect grammar and all your pointless babbling
I can't believe this is happening
How can a pen be mad at me?
I feel like a disciple and this pen is just a Sadducee
And I'm *******, again
But this time it's going to stay
All I wanted to do was play
But this pen led me astray
And I hate it
Every little click makes me cringe
Every little word I write makes me want more revenge
But lets face it...
What exactly would I do a pen?
Instead of taking it a part and putting it back together again
Well, it depends...
But honestly pens don't really make good friends
You rusty pen
You musty pen
You mother freaking ugly pen!
I hate you pen!
I breake you pen!
I can't wait to look down from Heaven and see your face in hell.
How heavy the days are.
There's not a fire that can warm me,
Not a sun to laugh with me,
Everything bare,
Everything cold and merciless,
And even the beloved, clear
Stars look desolately down,
Since I learned in my heart that
Love can die.
 Sep 2013 Alta Boudreau
Emily
I can hardly handle
My yearn
My want
My need
For you
You're within my reach
You're within my grasp
I want every waking moment with you
Is that too much to ask?

I can hardly handle
This love I possess
It's so strong
I feel I'm a mess
I can't get you off my mind
But I don't want to
My concentration
Is set on loving you

The disappointment I feel
When it's been just a few hours apart
Is so overwhelming
Feels like I took a dart
Straight to my heart
Thank goodness for our proximity
Without it
I'd die from insanity
I cannot stop writing about him.

© Peyton 2013
There are times

when the moon is busy elsewhere
and the candles are growing old
that your eyes catch mine
in the simplest of ways

and send me.

When our gravity overflows
and we are drawn together
for reasons only the planets know,
I cannot place my finger on it;

I would likely lose my hand.

Those times I know
that a door handle decision
will be the difference
between goodnight and good morning.

I find no romance in the air tonight.
It would seem we have breathed it all in.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the moon.
Resting against the cold glass window at night
To get a glimpse of the light on the side she laid eyes on
And wondered about the darkness she would never get to see.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the stars.
Watching them sparkle and shoot across the sky.
She shed a tear knowing these stars were long diminished
And wondered if she as well would leave such a lasting mark.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the rain.
Falling fast asleep to the quiet drops on the pavement
With colors forming through the heavy mist,
And wondered if she could ever be as beautiful as a rainbow.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the ocean.
Sinking her toes in the sand while breathing the salty air,
Noticing the fish swimming easily through the blue water
And wondered if she could glide through life the same way.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the sun.
Lying in the swaying grass, feeling a soft breeze on her cheeks
Only to be shaded by the birds flying free under the light
And she wondered if she could one day be as free.
This is about the girl who fell in love with solitude.
Curled up with the dusty pages of her favorite book
Reading of the lover’s who share their lives together,
And wondered if one day she might share her solitude.
This is about the girl who fell in love with you.
With the way your body wrapped around hers,
How you could command a room with the warmth of your smile
And she wondered if one day she could call you hers.
This is about the girl who fell in love with too many things.
Realizing none of them would ever be hers,
Knowing she had no one to share them with.
And she wondered if she would always feel so alone.
I've wondered
When God was a boy
Did He wonder
Who in forever
Would find most
Success
Anyway
He was a shoo-in
By muscle or wisdom
There was no challenge
To match His finesse
When one skates to the stars
with feet called to wait on the sunrise,
it is said their hearts are hungry
for the dreams full of love
to return again.  
The taste of this hunger
travels with them
into the darkness full of stars
and stirs every sunset
they see
in their domain.

Sometimes this makes one feel
like running away
to erase the past and all pleasures
which made them feel complete
each and every morning.
Still, they know,
love will continue as part of those dreams.
So they skate
to the stars,
to see
what a new sunset
brings.
Copyright @2013 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
 Jan 2013 Alta Boudreau
Jerry
Outer beauty is about 33% of the total package.
Unfortunately, it is the first thing people notice.
An obvious statement by me, a man.

From my perspective; maybe not so unique.
A woman's physical "perfection" may not be as desirable as one might imagine.
Physical Perfection can be intimidating, by men & women.
Physical Perfection can be resented, even though admired.
Physical Perfection can also attract some "unwanted" attention.
Physical Perfection can bring on mental frustration,
while dealing with the perverted assortment of attention.

Having said so, I am curious to know the personality of a physically perfect girl.
As, I can not get close enough to say anything more than Hi as we pass in the mall.
But, my physical self can not keep her attention, even for a minute.

The competition for her attention would be too great.
My cautious and shy personality would be left behind.
She would be whisked away from me.
Most likely by a younger more physically perfect guy.

I would prefer, the girl next door type.
She looks cute and is quite nice.
When she does her magic. She transforms into a very pretty and even **** girl.
Even with glasses and slightly crooked teeth.

Her most endearing qualities though is not physical perfection.
Rather, her beaming smile, sparkling eyes, self-confidence
outgoing personality and...
her get it done attitude.
 Jan 2013 Alta Boudreau
Tom Orr
I wasn't sure what to make
of this intergalactic space war.
With flying soldiers in old tobacco tins
and bullets made out of fingers.
I took it upon myself, I suppose
to conscript to this chaos,
upon the fluffy terrain.
Some sort of tyrannous Tyrannosaurus,
with a purple top hat
had taken over the bunk bed fort.

I'd made up my mind.
The only thing for it was a straight "Neeeeee-owwwwwwww"
into the back of the villainous lizard.

My comrade in arms however,
felt I wasn't quite suited for this rampant combat.
Although, his reason I didn't quite agree with;

"You're doing it wrong" he said, rather patronisingly.

I guess my little cousin is less of the kamikaze type and more of the tactical warfare nature.
 Jan 2013 Alta Boudreau
Tom Orr
Mosséd trees stand in respect,
a moment of silence.
Still breathing
but stillness dwells.
In amongst the green
a catharsis of orangey-red shades.
The Japanese maple poised,
chest puffed,
arms elegant.
Sight unstirred.
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