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Beverly Roma May 2016
I don't want to be loved
i don't need to
i dont want people crying when i die
i dont want to be like another girl
so i write
i write because i know i can
i know i am somehow right
i had something to prove
so when i'm dead
i'll never die
i wanted someone
to read all the things i wrote
and make my life a book
i never wanted to be loved
i wanted to be remembered
when i die
because i write
Beverly Roma Mar 2015
I'm here in my lonely room
Writing a lonely poem
While listening to a lonely song
That didn't last that long
And thinking for a lonely word
That would rhyme my lonely world
Here again in my lonely place
without a smile on my lonely face
A shoe with an untied lace
while running in this poetic maze
It's funny how everybody's happy
while I write this poem sadly
I want to cry so badly
because I'm so ******* lonely
no
  Mar 2015 Beverly Roma
Sound Of Rain
First times had always been important to her.
The first time she learned how to ride a bike without the trainer wheels, the first time she got a great grade on her test.
Because these first times were special only when they happened for the first time.
Riding on the bicycle without the training wheels was no longer unusual, getting good grades wasn't new.
They just became regular habits. She never regretted having all of those first times; the only one she ever regretted was the first time you spoke to her; looking into her eyes.
Because now, even after all those years,
she still can't look away.

-A.A.
Jumbled thoughts

— The End —