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 Mar 2016 AP Staunton
Poetria
Adj; Not affected by the passage of time or changes in fashion*.

It could mean larger than time.
It could mean out of time.
It could mean in no time whatsoever.
It could mean less time.
It could mean a place where time doesn't exist or
A feeling where time isn't concerned or
A person who doesn't obey the laws of time with how they live their life.
Metaphorically, something timeless is something that remains unchanged with time; time doesn't concern it; time means nothing regarding that 'thing'.
Logically, something timeless is something that doesn't take time. It's impossible but the word still exists (?).
Emotionally, you could say an emotion felt strongly is timeless.
All I know is that this word ****** me off.
Maybe I'm a little too logical.
Face it, people.
Her smile isn't timeless, time has destroyed her innocence.
His poetry isn't timeless, it'll be forgotten one day, just not today. It'll become outdated.
Their love isn't timeless, because when they end, it will too. And everyone feels moments of absolutely nothing, right? (Maybe just the insane)
However I believe
There is one timeless thing in this time-controlled world;
Time.
I hope you're silently cursing this.
 Mar 2016 AP Staunton
Raven
Ignis.
 Mar 2016 AP Staunton
Raven
The downside
of falling in love
with people
who make you feel
sparks
and fireworks
in your heart
comes
when they leave you
with nothing but
ashes and smoke.
all time low's "a love like war" inspired this piece idk
 Mar 2016 AP Staunton
wordvango
my bizarre trendy artful life
set my goals for February
now that it is March
my collage calendar full of
last year's appointments
now that I am
focused in, touchstones
challenging ahead
I meet tomorrow
at a glance.
 Mar 2016 AP Staunton
wordvango
at the time my dream girl;
not to be confused with
a girl in my dreams,
who gave me expressive
art therapy snoring sessions;
took my picture posted
distorted reality
my face smiling
exact ******* opposites
they were
The world had magic, once
But we drove it out
With our hate and our sorrow
And our pollution
And our new age machines
With our war and our strife
And our forgetting
Most of all, the forgetting

We forgot the hum of the earth
And the song of the wind
We forgot the language of trees
And the comfort of soil
We forgot to be kind to the world
And that drove out the magic
That kept us whole, and good

We are left now with rubble
And a grey, polluted sky
The trees do not whisper to us
Since we started cutting them down
The earth doesn't hum
With our oil swords plunged deep

We have forgotten our roots
And they, have so, forgotten us.
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