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 Mar 2014 Beauty36
Poetic T
Alone
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
Poetic T
Like the night I am alone, surrounded
By nothing but by much, I am
Like a star in the sky surrounded
By many but never more alone.
  
I am surrounded by everything,
Some times to close for comfort,
I wish for the peace of loneliness
For I am alone in myself.
  
Can I survive the noise that
Is the quiet myself, my thoughts
To loud I just wish for peace I
Am surrounded by much but
Never more alone.
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
Margaryta
I put light bulbs into roses
And I tried to make them grow,
But no further than my workbench
Would they ever even go.
I connected them with wires, clips –
I’ve tried it all:
Drew out diagrams on yellowed paper,
Labelled in my chicken scrawl.
Once the electrician came to look.
“What have you been doing girl?”
It was then that at my workbench
A bag of fertilizer did he hurl.
Gone then were the wires, clips;
Gone the ashes on the floor.
All that’s left were wilted roses
Piled up right by the door.
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
jeffrey robin
<    |    ~~~    |    >
•  •

And nobody came !

All the children
All animals

All of nature
(Mountains and seas!)

Crying out !

Calling your TRUE NAME!

--

But

The SUICIDE/SUFFERING GAME

is all the rage these days!

All the rage

••

All your rage

Kept for your own use and pleasure

!!!!

Sicko pseudo lovers !

****** wrists and ****** *****

All over the place!

••


Ah sweet child

You are left for death

This is what we worship !

( though of course we call it

OUR TRUE Lover'S BREAST!)
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
Poetic T
I am young at heart but my body
gives me away, where once was youth now
departed, and old age like a vine has crept
up and consumed all my parts and me.
  
You may stroll past as I walk
so slow, but im taking the world
in with each step, loving the sites
the sounds, in my youth I just didnt
see as I thought time was my
friend and would always last an eternity.
  
My skin wrinkled but like the rings
of tree you may count to see the age I be,
I have seen history that you learn in books,
to you it is but paper, to me it was life I was there
I saw what you couldnt, wouldnt some times
want to see.
  
I am old but I am not usless, I am
knowledge, have skills, I have stories to
tell if you wish to listen to me.
  
I miss those that have left never
again to see, but I am at peace that
my life has been up and downs.
But I am happy with what I have done and
seen, it has gave me many years many things
still to be seen.
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
L
Music
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
L
A lyricist can hide her heart in the metaphors of her lyrics.

A musician can hide his mind in the chords of his guitar.

A fan can find solace in the combination of both.
Just a little musing about music.
**
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
JustChloe
Life
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
JustChloe
Sitting alone
Reflecting
Thinking about my life
My fight
I fight
everyday
of my life
is it worth it?
living to fight
I just don't see the light
at the end of this long tunnel
Then I found the fun of life
I realized the greatness of it all
life isn/t just a free fall
until we hit the bottom
its more like a roller coaster
with turns
and loops and screams and laughs
I wanna live
and laugh this is the only thing I have ever had
I have found the joy of life at last
 Mar 2014 Beauty36
Edward Coles
I lost my true love
once she found my true self,
I keep thinking life is improving,
before I'm under the rubble again.

And I'll miss you,
I already do.

I realised that I loved you
and it felt like hands around my throat.
When you had already left the room,
all freedom of my heart did too.

You see, I had nothing left but you.
But you and my assorted maxims.
Now, I've been leaked to the press,
all of my scales have been shown
to the blue-light;
now, all that is left, is nothing at all.
c
This is not a sad poem about a boy who doesn’t love me or a boy who suffocates me or a boy who angers me.

This is not a poem about a boy who calls me drunk at 3am and tells me about other girls and says how everything is my fault.

This is not a poem about a beautiful boy with beautiful words who only sees me as a friend.

This is not a poem about a boy who is possessive and yells at me when I don’t give all my attention to him.

This is a poem about a boy who laughs at my bad jokes and loves how I love words. About a boy who watches bad TV shows with me and plays with my fingers while his arm is around my shoulder. About a boy who plays piano and sings and makes me geniuenly happy.
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