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 Apr 2016 Beinghonest
Star Gazer
My best friend loved to write,
She wrote haikus to ****** novels,
She didn't beg nor grovel
For the words to touch the page,
But she instructed that 'life-
life is a big stage, each plot,
each character and each scene,
should all be well developed'.

So taking heed of her advice,
I wrote a simple boy meets girl
story.
It was about a boy,
Who had fallen in love with his
best friend.
I titled it 'My autobiography'.

She had also told me,
Every good novel,every good story,
Every good poem, every good anything,
Has a twist in outcomes,
A plot twist in other words.

So as I got deeper and deeper into-
The creation of 'My autobiography',
She told me ' If you can't write a plot twist,
I will write one for you'.

So she decided to flee from the shackles of Earth,
And now it's no longer a boy meets girl story,
A rather ' Boy cries at a gravestone story'.

I flooded her stone, not only with red roses
But with strained eyelids.

The real purpose of this piece is to ask you,
What story would you like to write?
~I'm writing a new story - Hopefully one that is filled with as much happiness as I am feeling right now. It's a blessing to meet such honest hearted and kind hearted people
There's many girls,
That guys don't consider
beautiful
or
****.
But that does not give guys the right,
to hurt and cheat on them.
 Mar 2016 Beinghonest
Joel M Frye
The angels that you can and cannot see
float in and out of life so gracefully;
enfold in winged embraces one by one,
celestial comforters when day is done.
Some angels take the shapes of passers-by
so you might see the Spirit in their eyes.
A smile that lifts the day from the mundane;
a kind hand up, a loving act conveyed.
The unseen angels hover in the realm
where power manifested overwhelms
our common senses. There behind the scenes
they battle fears and reinforce our dreams.
Take counsel from a humbled man, once proud;
they only enter lives when they're allowed.
 Mar 2016 Beinghonest
Star Gazer
People don't understand that being hurt
Is like contorting a wound and rubbing dirt
In place of applying bactine,
It's like fighting a disease without a vaccine,
A world where the average relies on being mean.

People don't understand that being invincible
Doesn't shield you from love the way you had hoped
And standing in the crosshairs of a ******'s scope
We come to realize that Cupid is a deadeye,
He's capable of hitting anyone without try.

Even the strong falls in the face of their emotions
And even an alchemist has no true cure or potion
For this affliction,
Known as love.

I have loved you for half a year
And although that isn't a long while
I have cried a billion tears
And I have loved you with a million hearts.
I write this last poem dedicated to you
To remind you that you are beautiful
And hope that you find the happiness
That you seek for.
 Mar 2016 Beinghonest
Star Gazer
I was once told by someone
"To stay the happy star gazer",
So I paint a smile across my face
Look upon the brighter shade of things.

You want to know how I got these scars?
Exactly that, painting smiles across my face
With razor sharp blades that craved
Craved for the taste of flesh and blood.

I AM HAPPY! I Swear, I can hear your thoughts
He's a lunatic, a ******.
You're half right and half right.
Because the half left, is my sadness.

I smile to my sadness, I hold it bright
BIG BRIGHT RED SMILE WITH A SIDE OF BLOOD
big grin with a side of severed chin.
I AM HAPPY FOR YOU ALL....

Ignore the knife, that's just a prop
IT'S JUST THERE TO SHOW YOU
I CAN BE MORE HAPPIER
AS I CARVE A SMILE INTO MY FACE.

HAHAHAHAHA
SOMEONE CLEAN THE ******* BLOOD
OFF THE ******* ******* FLOORS
PLEASE.

-Joker Signing out
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