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 Jul 2013 Amanda
Sir B
Am I?
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Sir B
Am I of any importance anymore?
I know I am none to you
I know I am nothing to them
I know no-one actually notices me
Besides the fact that
I volunteer at a place

I think they respect me
I don't know
I never knew
I never will know
If I was of any importance..
Maybe after I leave?
Can't be sure..
I think I let myself become soft again.. Time to build up the wall again.. I suppose..
 Jul 2013 Amanda
PoetWhoKnowIt
I saw it in the morning
I saw it in the noon
But never did I expect to see
Those evening eye-monsoons
Quick write... Feel free to look at some of my other poems. :)
 Jul 2013 Amanda
PoetWhoKnowIt
Just one more poem.
Just one more rhyme...
come on brain!
Have you lost your mind?

Just one more limerick.
Just one more haiku...
it's always so easy!
What's wrong with you?

Just one more story.
Just one more tune...
write of winter!
Describe hot June?

Just one more lesson.
Just one more advice...
say it with jewelry!
Teach of vice?

Just one more declaration.
Just one more truth-spree...
do it on paper!
Set yourself free?

Just one more blood-let.
Just one more piece of you...
there's something to say!
What have you accrued?

"Just one more bad day.
Just one more true beauty...
to write it all down!
Isn't it a poet's duty?

Just one more Maui sunset.
Just one more lost friend...
Oh, don't worry!
'One mores 'never end..."
Feel free to critique and praise as you'd like. Look as some of my other poems! Many different ones, although many use rhyme. Thank you!
 Jul 2013 Amanda
PoetWhoKnowIt
Big~
 Jul 2013 Amanda
PoetWhoKnowIt
In the smallest town
of the smallest land-
Not so small
lived a man

Ten feet tall
and not so thin;
Great long hairs
came from his chin

He had no temper
stayed near his abode-
For he had no visitors
he was not loved

Even when only he
was tall or strong enough;
The small people
used mechanical stuff

He knew not why
height was a curse.
Or why a downfall-
was his girth

Nor where it came from
he never  knew
His father small
and his mother too


But trivial became
facts i've said.
As time went on...
black he bled

Rivers he bled-
blacker than oil;
His heart was wrenching
no longer soil

To replace the blood-
new-found power;
Anger struck
on the hour

Not just big,
but monolith.
Those small people
became a myth

Big people come
in many sizes;
It's how power
maintains disguises
Originally intended to be happy... didn't work out as such. Feel free to read some of my other poems - critique and praise freely.
 Jul 2013 Amanda
PoetWhoKnowIt
A small Gust blew
over a pond,
None too shabby
None too strong

A Leaf was pushed
detached from home,
fluttered softly,
fell alone

It landed by
a tiny Bug-
who held on tight
as it tugged

But near a Frog
that snatched at it;
though made a noise
when it's tongue flicked

A hunting Bird heard-
caught a view,
swooped on down
put its talons through

And as it struggled,
its wings galloped
until the sun exploded
and messed it up.
Feel free to read some of my other poems! Say whatever you'd like, positive or negative, I love good advice.
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Sir B
Remember the time.
When we walked home?
It was so mucho fun
We just had talks
About love
Being in the air
All the time

I sincerely miss
Talking to you
Though you ignore me
More than often
You did help me through
And many others
So when you do have hard times
Don't shy
You listened to me.
I will listen to you.

That's something
I want to do
As payment for your help.

=)
Written to a friend of mine.. Who isn't here as of right now.. Hope she does see it when she can... And yes. She is on Hellopoetry.
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Sir B
No-one (10w)
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Sir B
You know
who would like
to suffer with me?

*No-one
I have no clue why I would write this... Maybe to show the best proverb wrong??!?
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Alex Apples
Nanoseconds streak naked like
rebellious starlight in spacetime
responding to no sentient's censure
striking hot the wired constellations
strung about my fingerless grip
they slip
retreating
eternal
into
The Void.
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Asphyxiophilia
4 am
 Jul 2013 Amanda
Asphyxiophilia
At 4 am,
When you can't sleep,
I dream of being the cigarette
That you indulge in on the back
Porch, loosely holding it between
Your fingers like you once held on
To me and softly exhaling it like
You did my memory.

At 6 am,
When you can't awaken,
I yearn to be pill that you slip
Beneath your tongue and the
Tingle that resonates within
Your bones like the sensation
I once thrived upon from the
Touch of your lips.

At midnight,
When you can't think straight,
I desire to be the bottle that you
Clutch between your two hands
The way you gripped my throat
The night we made love when you
Begged me to scream that I was
All yours (and I was).
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