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 Jan 2015 indigo
JT-TJ
I use to think that being on the outside looking in,
was the perfect life for me.
I did not love, or care, nor even hate,
I was completely free.

It was so much easier to be,
on the outside looking in.
There wasn't anyone there to hurt me,
or keep me from sin.

As the time had slowly passed me by,
sadness entered my empty heart.
I had become so very lonely,
I realized it's been there from the start.

And in the glass I was looking through,
my reflection I did see.
A sad and lonely, broken man,
who definitely wasn't free.

The pain was visible, and all to real,
in this reflection of a man.
Now he's older, the time has passed,
this wasn't part of the plan.

Though he see's a need to change,
and he knows it must be done.
It seems so much easier,
just to turn around and run.

No matter how hard he try's,
nobody want's him there.
They blow him off, and ignore him,
very few seem to care.
 Jan 2015 indigo
Chelsey
Would You?
 Jan 2015 indigo
Chelsey
If I carved the words "I love you"
into every inch of my skin,
would you believe them?
Would you believe me?

If I painted a picture of my heart
with the very blood that it pumps,
would you cherish it?
Would you cherish me?

If I promised that there was no one else,
that there was only you,
would you accept that?
Would you accept me?
Would you accept me?
 Jan 2015 indigo
Sergi Dutronc
I never had a lover
Because I am too shy

I never had a lover
Because I never wanted one

I have never fired a gun
Because I never had the chance
 Jan 2015 indigo
Jamie King
poets?
 Jan 2015 indigo
Jamie King
The pen trembles, the paper perspires,the hand remains steady. Or is the mind weary and reality an illusion within a dream?
Infatuated with harmonising every line. Your mind is violent but your words are quite. incessantly bleeding the pen but there is no pain in your words, just anarchic serenity as you conclude with tranquil tragedies.
#poetry
 Jan 2015 indigo
Jamie King
You embellish my life, I cherish your love, trust and the time you take just to make me smile

My eyes awe at the sight of your visage. It must have taken God eight days to perfect you before his eyes.

You gave me hope when I thought I  was lost. Your voice is melody echoing the sounds of joy.

In your arms, I am in a garden of heaven basking in bliss, resting in peace but alive and indeed enjoying the aroma of elation swaying with the wind.
When they say nothing is more beautiful than love I smile and tell them that She is.
 Jan 2015 indigo
Jamie King
We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.
I've never been the one to follow structures when it comes to poetry but when I heard about the villanelle and how difficult it is to master I just got excited and inspired
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